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#COUGH COUGH TAGS AND THEN I AM GONE FOR 3 YEARS
hershelwidget · 1 year
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this is the worst fucking thing i’ve drawn all year so far, topping even coffin in coffin form with wooden breasts
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it is funny how it is also a coffin-related drawing though
in fact it is so funny so I am going to put in just the parts of this that will not make anyone yell at me about my skills of drawing puddles of blood (which are HORRIBLE by the way)
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ignore the baby furcorn and the baby kayna i drew those beasts from memory. well actually the kayna looks ok compared to my usual standards
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nothing quite like making a funny group reaction image with yourself, yourself, and yourself
HOWEVER THE FULL VERSIONS are exactly the same but with all of the words and actually I WILL show it but. ehem
i’m gonna put this under the cut not because it contains three different versions of the same guy but because the second part of it contains a very loose interpretation of genocide and i am aware that that is a Pretty Fucking Uncomfortable Subject
so. be warned. there’s no bodies and it’s the most shitty puddle of blood you’ve ever seen in your life but still
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thE formS of D.C Coffin and W.C Coffin are very in-beta so they are subject to change from this to the next. anyways what the hell was going on in tboci
i can’t escape it so this post doubles as a I’m Going Back To It But I Am Very Angry About It announcement
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sorrowsofsilence · 3 months
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Nightmares • Sebastian
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!reader (oneshot)
Words: 2.1k
Warnings: Smut 18+ (fem!fingering, male!receiving, explicit language)
Prompt: You wake up from a nightmare, and your friend Noah finds a way to keep it off your mind.
Authors note: I know this prompt was requested a while ago, but I finally got it out hehehHEHEHE
Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician
(some tags are from older one shots, so if you want on or off the tag list pls let me know! :3)
THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3
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“I don’t want anything to do with you ever again.” He seethed through his tongue, piercing me with his harsh words.
“But-“ you whispered, barely able to make a sound as your stomach clenched with complete heartbreak.
You never should have admitted your feelings for your best friend.
Noah’s glare was grim as he pointed a finger into your chest, disgust radiating off of his tone, “I would never love someone like you.”
His words dug into your soul, breaking you from the inside out as if you were a worthless, disposable vase, shattering into unfixable pieces.
“Y/N,” he yelled, face inches from yours with a snarl evident on his face as he bore hatred into you.
“Y/N!”
“Y/N!”
Your eyes opened as you gasped, your body flying upward as you sat on the couch, chest heaving heavily.
Wet tear-stained cheeks left you gathering your bearings, before making eye contact with a concerned brunette, his auburn orbs furrowed with distress.
You coughed and choked on your saliva, breathing with intensity as you sobbed loudly, pulling the thin fuzzy blanket up to your throat in an attempt to comfort yourself.
With legs draped over Noah’s lap, the two of you were placed on the couch. Looking around the room in confusion as the blue light from the tv danced across the darkened room, you watched it illuminating Noah’s worry. The sound of the movie that you were long-gone from paying attention to, was muffled within your ears as they rang with anxiety, unable to focus on what just happened.
Right, you were watching a movie with him; but must’ve fallen asleep.
It was just a nightmare- but it felt so real.
Noah’s calloused hand reached out to you, his slender fingers delicate as he rested them on your leg, ghosting over the exposed skin from your shorts.
“Y/N,” Noah’s voice cracked with fret, “what happened?”
You sniffed as you wiped your eyes with your sleeve, shaking your head, “n-nothing, I just had a bad dream.”
Sucking in a hyperventilating breath, you sighed and Noah opened his arms, inviting you into his space.
You hesitated for a moment, something that he noticed, before he reached over to grab your shoulders and pulled you into him anyway.
You relaxed slightly once safe in his familiar arms, pressed against his chest. Your face nuzzled into his black sharingan hoodie, his cologne faint as it mixed with the smell of tide from his laundry. The fabric was soft against your s/c skin, and Noah’s fingers began cradling your head, running across your scalp and through your strands in a soothing motion.
His free hand rubbed up your back as you rocked gently, “did you want to talk about it?”
“uh, n-no.” You hiccuped.
Your heart pounded at the thought of telling him what happened in the dream. He couldn’t know it was about him rejecting you, saying he would never love you.
The two of you had only been friends for a couple of years, meeting at a record label party. You were talking to Matt about sound mixing and Noah had overheard; and you’ve been inseparable since.
You never intended to fall in love with him. Of course you’ve always found him handsome, but there wasn’t ever an initial crush. However as you got to know him, his humour and personality sucked you in, leaving you completely whipped; and lost.
It was easier to believe he would never feel the same, because you were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
Noah sucked in a breath, “are you sure? I’m pretty worried about you right now, not gonna lie.”
Shrugging, you squeezed onto his body and clung to him. Noah’s small circles on your back delved lower and lower before sliding underneath your crew neck, inviting himself to trail his nails along the bare skin of your back. He traced rhythmic patterns, leaving the skin goose-bumping and tingling.
He always did that when you were anxious.
“One second you were quietly sleeping, the next you were thrashing and crying.” He whispered, resting his cheek on your head. He was genuinely worried, and you knew he cared about you; despite the harsh words that came from the dream.
You exhaled heavily, easing into his touch, “It’s okay, it was just awful… I don’t want to talk about it.”
Noah hummed, agreeing warily. You twisted your body so you were resting your back against his chest and snuggling into his arm that wrapped around you, before turning your attention back to the movie. His hand still rested along the skin beneath the sweater, holding onto your side.
You had no clue what was going on in the movie, but the two main characters on screen were heavily kissing, and beginning to strip. You and Noah watched in silence, ignoring the awkward tension that began to build as you held each other to the sex scene unfolding ahead.
With puffy eyes you wiped your cheeks again and began focusing on breathing, worried he’d notice the way it hitched as the characters loved each other. Your mind raced as it replayed the nightmare over and over again.
Noah’s torso stiffen, his hand on your side hesitating for a moment, before circling the skin again. He ran his hand across your stomach, soothingly.
You pretended to be focused on the movie, and so did Noah, but knew his attention shifted once his fingers tailed further down, the tips treading dangerously close to the hem of your shorts.
He dipped his fingers just between the waistband, running them across your abdomen, the skin tingling at the sensation.
Sucking in a shaky breath as he pushed his hand down further, touching the top of your underwear; you felt your stomach churn in anticipation.
“What are you doing?” You asked nervously, confused at his actions. Noah’s always been touchy with you, whether it was playing with your hair, holding and hugging you, or tickling your skin; but this was something different- something blurring the line between friendship and more.
His chest vibrated as he spoke, a sultry touch added to his tone, “Maybe, if you’re comfortable,” his fingers continued to slide further down, now between your underwear, “you need a little distraction?”
Your heartbeat quickened at his words, a mix of confusion and excitement washing over you. Noah’s fingers lingered for a moment, waiting for an answer.
“What do you mean?” You whispered and felt him smile as his chin rested on the top of your head.
“I can tell you’re overthinking,” He said gently, “so, let me give you something else to focus on?”
The muscles of your thighs clenched at his words as lust washed through you. Of course, you’ve thought about Noah’s inked fingers; there have been many times you imagined your own were his during nights fated to lustful thoughts.
As the room felt smaller and smaller, your mind began to wander to dirty images of succumbing to Noah, the nightmare beginning to wash away.
Nodding slowly you questioned him, “like?”
A breath caught in your throat once his fingers dipped against your sensitive skin, pressing small circles with the pads of his middle and ring fingers.
“This,” his voice hoarse and hungry.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek as Noah’s fingers slid between your folds, the slick arousal coating his fingers as he teased your entrance.
“You’re soaked, and I’ve barely done anything,” he chuckled, and your face flushed from embarrassment. Everything about him turned you on, and now he knew.
You hummed, too nervous to make a sound as his fingers sank into you. With your head tilted back to rest it onto his shoulder, you closed your eyes, afraid to look at Noah who was peering down.
Noah’s free hand ran up underneath your shirt, passing your chest before stopping at the nape of your neck.
“You’re allowed to moan,” He chuckled, his fingers curling.
Laughing lowly, your hips beginning to rut towards his touch, “Well then, I’m going to need you to make me.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Eyes fluttered open to his, a sly smile playing on his lips.
Noah’s dark eyes flickered to his hand that pleasured you, watching how you pushed and pulled from his touch, his mouth agape, almost moaning himself. His repetitive motion left you crumbling, body close to release.
His fingers continuously curled towards your pleasure, his thumb pressed against your clit as he skillfully gave you everything he had. His free hand slid from the base of your neck, grabbing hold of your chest, squeezing.
Noah’s fingers slid up, the pads rubbing along aggressively, stimulating every desire you have ever had. At that moment a moan escaped your throat and he smiled widely, encouraging him to go even faster.
“There you go,” He groaned in contentment and you felt him harden below. Your fingers gripped his thigh, nails digging into his skin as eyelids lowered in rapture, stimulating that you were seconds away from release.
“Oh fuck,” you cried as you came, your other hand gripping Noah’s that held you from above your shirt, squeezing as your abdomen clenched. Legs began closing around his hand as Noah worked out your orgasm, refusing to stop until you pushed him away.
With heavy pants you sat up, turning to face Noah who smiled, taking his fingers into his mouth and licking your release off of them. The tension between you two grew stronger as his hand then slid to the top of his cotton shorts, palming his erection that pushed tauntingly against the fabric.
You watched hungrily, mind no longer thinking about the nightmare from minutes before; but instead wanted to see how far he’d be willing to go- just this once.
“I think I need more of a distraction,” you said delicately, adrenaline taking your racing heart. Without a second thought, you then straddled Noah on the couch, grinding into him as his fingers gripped your hips.
Your body began aching for Noah’s touch again, craving him as his auburn eyes flicked between your own and your lips. You leaned down as his hands travelled up your body, gripping your face as he broke the distance and kissed you desperately. You couldn’t help it as your stomach grew butterflies, his soft lips devouring your own in a hungry kiss, lips open as his tongues pushed against each others.
A guttural groan escaped Noah as he kissed you deeper, the beat of his heart vibrating against his chest in excitement. His hands glided down to follow every curve of your body, pushing and pulling against the skin with need. His hands landed on either side of your hips once again before gripping your ass, pushing you into his arousal, frantic for friction.
“I bet I can make you come without even touching you,” you teased and spoke into his lips, rutting back and forth along his covered length.
Noah chuckled darkly, “I guarantee you could,” his breath quickened, “but I’ve dreamed about your lips wrapped around my cock too many times to let that happen the first time.”
Pausing for a moment, you stared down at him, almost shocked at his words. His smile was radiant as he brought you into another haste kiss, feeling giddy as you two melded into one.
Dream, about you?
“Really?” You whispered, barely audible. You shoved the surprise to the back of your brain, kissing him eagerly one more time before sliding off his lap and onto the floor. Positioning yourself between his legs, you then gripped the hem of his shorts as he watched every move, analyzing each touch.
“I need you Y/N,” he replied as you pulled his shorts down, his arousal breaking free and standing hard against his stomach. You couldn’t help but let out a moan as you gripped him, beginning to stroke up and down.
Noah ardently pushed into your hand and watched with furrowed brows. You then slowly licked a strip up his length before taking him into your mouth fully.
Swirling your tongue along the tip, you then began sliding down, lapping and sucking. Listening to his moans left your knees weak, barely supporting yourself below, succumbing to his need.
Noah’s fingers tangled in your hair as he held it out of your face, admiring you worshiping him. His head fell back in pleasure as you took your free hand to stroke what was free at the base, rubbing his skin firmly but in a delicate manner.
“Jesus fucking Christ Y/N,” his groan deep and lewd, the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him leaving Noah crumbling to the touch.
You wanted to take an orgasm from him, but weren’t sure whether you wanted him coating the back of your throat, or breeding your insides.
“So,” you licked up Noah again before pulling back, stroking him with a hand as you spoke, “do you want to come in my mouth…”
You trailed off, before looking up at him devilishly through your lashes, “or inside of me?”
Noah’s slanted-slutty grin and lidded eyes told you everything, but his words reassured you completely, erasing any signs of doubt you had from the nightmare.
“I’ve always wanted to make every inch of you mine.”
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hajiimes · 8 months
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purple hydrangeas
pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, hanahaki au warnings: mentions of blood, surgery, and hospitals word count: 1.4k author's note: if this looks familiar at all that's cuz it's a repost from my previous blog (also hajiimes) from like 2-3 years ago lolol !! i revamped it and am reposting it here :D i'm sorry i was gone for so long it's been a wild time lol
masterlist
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There’s a tickle in your throat and pain in your lungs. It’s been there for quite a while, so long that you’ve already forgotten what it felt like without the petals clogging up your lungs. You look at him, so unreadable, so unreachable . No one had told you that falling in love would hurt so much. 
It’s silly, you tell yourself. Childish. Dumb. Foolish. First love, a deadly fate. 
Suna Rintarou sits to your left in school and you cast glances at him whenever you’re sure that he’s paying more attention to doodling in his notebook than you. In your observations, you learn that Suna Rintarou dog-ears the pages of his textbooks to save his spot. You learn that he chews on the eraser at the end of his pencil when he thinks, leaving small indents in it when he pulls away to write. You learn that more often than not, Suna spends class time drumming his fingers on his desk, idly staring out the window instead of paying attention to the board. 
Suna isn’t the type to forget any pens or pencils, but he always forgets to bring extra paper. You couldn’t count the number of times he’d leaned over the aisle separating the two of you to ask for a sheet of paper, to which you’d happily obliged every time—always willing to lend a helping hand. Those reluctant smiles he sent you out of gratitude always seemed to brighten your day.
Honestly, it’s no surprise that you developed Hanahaki. 
He makes small jokes under his breath about classwork, little quips he doesn’t think anyone can hear. He offers you a pen whenever you forget one, accompanied with a small note stating ‘Give it back when you’re done’ wrapped around it. You end up keeping those notes, stuffing them between spare pages of your textbooks and notebooks. 
Suna is a boy of few words, but when he speaks you find yourself hooked on every one of them. Your friends call it puppy love. They call it a little kid’s crush. They tell you that in a month you’ll forget all about it and move on to some other guy. 
You don’t tell them that you probably won’t make it another month. 
The coughing fits become more and more frequent, each one right after the other. They get worse during school, during those hours when you’re near him. Purple petals litter your desk and pile into your hands, but you just discard them into your school bag with reckless abandon. 
Your friends approach you to ask if you’re okay. An easy, practiced smile stretches across your face and you wave them off like nothing is wrong. You tell them as much, you just have bad allergies! Nobody mentions that it’s not allergy season. You think it’s either out of mercy or pity that they leave you alone after that. 
Sometimes you think you can see Suna looking at you during class when you’re trying to discretely spit petals in cupped hands, but you always brush it off as a trick of the light. You think you can feel his eyes on you when you’re talking to your friends, watching as you carefully place your hands over the stray petals you forgot to brush off the desk. You smile and wave off your friends’ concerns like you always do. 
He never speaks up, never says anything about how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.
Suna goes on with his life like nothing is wrong, pretending he doesn’t see you cough up purple petals into your hands out of the corner of his eye during third-period math. He pretends that he doesn’t see you each day in his peripherals, too preoccupied with your own impending demise to worry about the functions written out on the whiteboard. 
Even though things have changed so drastically for you, Suna stays the same.
You learn that he mumbles out the words when he’s reading something. You learns that he bounces his leg underneath the desk when you’re taking a test. You learns that he’s quiet, but that doesn’t mean he’s shy. When his friend—Miya Osamu, from the volleyball team—is around, he’s much more talkative than usual. You learn that he drops his bag on his desk loudly every day to wake himself up in the morning, the slamming of the books in the bag waking you up in turn.
It’s cruel, you think to yourself in those selfish moments you allow yourself to consider him between the last toll of the school bell and the beginning of club activities, watching as Suna packs his schoolbag and slings it carelessly over his shoulder. He spares you one single glance, his lips a flat line as he makes a beeline past his peers lingering at their desks and heads out the classroom door. You watch Suna walk away like he always does, sparing you a single merciful glance as you dump the last of the school day’s purple hydrangeas into the trash. It’s cruel that he doesn’t know the effect he has on you.
It’s getting worse. 
Your parents beg you to tell them who it is, and how they can stop it from happening. They offer to switch your school, to pull you from club activities, to move prefectures if it helps. Your mom begs you to consider surgery; she pleads that you’re too young to die like this. You don’t care—you would rather die in love than live without it. 
Each day you live with the disease is a day your body grows weaker and weaker. Your body runs cold and your head feels heavy every moment you has to hold it up. Your teachers, luckily, are merciful. They don’t say anything when you rest your head in class—they know your situation all too well. You can feel the pitying glances they send you during breaks and passing periods, their stares burning into the back of your head. 
It comes upon you suddenly, like a summer storm, during history class. Bile and flowers rest in your throat and, without a word, you excuse youself to the bathroom—just barely making it there in time.
Flowers bloom in your lungs, growing more and more until the petals fill your throat and spill out of your mouth. It hurts, you want to scream out, It hurts so much, but when you opens your mouth to speak, petals fall out in red, bloody clumps in lieu of words. You clutch at your throat and squeeze, hard, in a futile attempt to force the flowers out. 
It doesn’t work.
They find you in the second-floor school bathroom three minutes later. Petals surround you like a halo and, if it weren’t for the blood on your lips and the odd placement, one might think it’s some sort of art project. 
You remember what happened in flashes. You’re rushed to the hospital. The doctors call your parents. You’re rushed into the operating room. You fall asleep, Suna’s name on his lips. 
The flowers inside of your lungs are gone when you wakes, but a dull throbbing sits in their place. There are no flowers in the hospital room, no bouquets—something you find yourself grateful for. It’s funny somehow, the caution in which the people around you treat those silly little blossoms. It’s almost laughable, the way your family acts like you’ll break at the mere sight of a petal. Like you’re fragile.
It’s not long before you’re cleared to return to school, cleared to return to your fifth-row seat. People crowd you before class, each one asking if you’re okay, how the surgery was, and what it was like to have the disease. You wave them off with an easy smile, only saying that you’re glad to be back. 
There’s a boy who sits to your left. He holds his pencil tightly in his hand, plump pink lips wrapped around the end as he chews lightly on the eraser. His leg bounces with deep-rooted anxiety whenever you glance over at him. 
In the transition between second and third period, he passes a note with the words ‘Welcome Back’ written on it in hurried chicken scratch. You think it’s meant to be a joke. 
When you look up at the boy, you finally notice that his gray-brown eyes are watching you. You raise your eyebrows, watching as the corners of his lips turn upwards—an offering of the smallest of smiles. This classmate is familiar somehow, a creeping presence in the back of your mind. A gap in memory that should be filled, a cavity in your heart. You know that you’ve met before—it’s obvious in the way he’s looking at you. 
For some reason, you can’t remember his name.
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blackberrysummerblog · 2 months
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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)
Hey all! Thanks so much for tagging me @wellbelesbian, @aristocratic-otter, @valeffelees, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @ivelovedhimthroughworse and @iamamythologicalcreature! You’ve all correctly determined that I am procrastinating writing.
1. 🐬Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)
I actually don’t have any that are named at this point. Titles and tags are really difficult for me and I put both off to the last minute and second-guess myself into hell
2. 🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___=___”
Popular movie retelling + flying goats = Baz and Dev have A Spot of Bother
3. 🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?
Wraaaugugh, see #1 :P. I don’t know, in seriousness, I think the WIP mentioned above will end up getting a tag for sexual harassment or something like that given the nature of one necessary scene in the movie it’s based on. It’s not going to be worse than the source material, which is PG-13
4. 🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?
Oh, to have so many ideas for titles that there’s ever an alternative lying around to spare :(
5. ⚠️Which wip your most likely to finish or update next?
I’m pretty likely to finish a sequel to Field Trip of Dreams (SEE WHAT I MEAN about titles?) this week. The eighth years are off on another field trip—this time it’s a weekend training excursion with the Mage. Baz and Simon have been dating for the short time that’s passed since FToD, but they manage to get in a fight on the bus trip to Scafell Pike, and when it turns into a sort-of-tussle the Mage mistakes it for actual animosity and sends them off to a secluded cabin to bang (I mean work🙄) it out. Absolutely everybody but Davy—including the other teachers—knows exactly how much of a “punishment” this is
6. 💾 What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you've saved it as)
Practical magic au
7. 🖍️Post Any sentence from your wip
“Shut up, Gareth!” we shout as one, Snow adding a few brutish threats as Gareth pales and turns back around in his seat.
8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP
I actually can’t remember. I don’t plot my writing out very extensively so in a sense there’s hundreds of little scrapped thoughts rather than anything huge. I’m eliminating a lot of things with my crucible marriage fic, but it’s hard to say right now what’s actually gone or just being moved around. I know a major one I’ve been battling with is that prior to getting dragged off to Pitch Manor by his new husband Baz, I want Simon to have been living with Penny in a flat of their own, but for another aspect of the story I want him to have been living with the Mage in Watford (which is an au mage’s settlement in the fic) as well. There’s ways to work around it for the results I want, I just haven’t written it out yet.
9. 🤔What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?
I’m pretty sure I have at least a few lines written down for everything I want to write
10. 🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?
Oh, man…actively, probably the field trip one and my COBB. Somewhat less actively: a reverse COBB fic, a sequel to Monsters Under the Bed, a sequel to After Hours where Simon makes good on his promise to despoil Baz on his office desk, and my unending crucible marriage fic. Less active than that: a fic response to a prompt for Simon being the one kidnapped and Baz has to rescue him. There’s probably (cough*definitely*cough) some pretty messed-up OOC smut stuff lying around in my docs as well, that I add to when I’m in the mood and have zero plans to ever post
11. 🛠️Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?
I keep telling myself to just write and stop worrying about this for the moment, but I’m kind of bumming myself out worrying about whether I want to use first or third person, as well as past or present tense, for my COBB. I think the issue is that some scenes are bound to play out better one way while others would be better served differently. This is not usually a thing I struggle with.
12. ❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.
🥰
This was fun! (Once I stopped putting it off, lol). No pressure tagging (and sorry if I get anyone who’s already done it): @cutestkilla, @mooncello, @artsyunderstudy, @prettygoododds, @drowninginships, @hushed-chorus, @bookish-bogwitch, @thewholelemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @youarenevertooold, @ileadacharmedlife, @facewithoutheart, @imagineacoolusername, @ic3-que3n
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meggie-stardust · 7 months
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20 Questions for fic Writers!
Tagging myself via @lucky-bishop because I'm half bored, half a bit loopy on benadryl... And same suggestion; if anyone else wants to do this, say I tagged you <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 73?! Wow that surprised me.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 403,636
3. What fandoms do you write for? These days, mostly Teen Wolf, but I've written a lot for Merlin, Percy Jackson, BBC Sherlock, Gundam Wing, and assorted others over the years.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Acts of Man (Merlin/Arthur, Merlin): On the morning of their Annual pre-Christmas Dinner, Merlin is shocked to find out that Gwen thinks his boyfriend, Arthur, isn't good enough. But after a glimpse into Merlin's quirky flat, Gwen realizes that she might not have the whole story. 2. Nightmares (Jason/Percy, PJO): Percy feels lost and alone after returning from Tarartus. And if that's not bad enough, he can't sleep without having horrifying nightmares. Luckily for Percy, Jason is the one person not avoiding him, and the one person that has offered to help. 3. Looking for the Thing We Lost (Stiles/Peter, Teen Wolf): But the thing is that Stiles had already been forgotten by everyone. 4. Here I Am (Stuck in the Middle With You) (Jason/Percy, PJO): Percy and Jason's mission gets derailed when they find themselves trapped in a room with no way out. Luckily, they find a way to pass the time… 5. Know How A Man Becomes a Beast (Stiles/Peter, Teen Wolf): Peter took a steadying breath and stepped into room. He held up his hands and walked forward slowly, the way he would approach any wild animal. “Stiles. It’s gonna be ok.”
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, I try to, even it take a while -- at least on my newer fics. I haven't gone back to things from like 10 years ago to reply to old comments that I missed, but I try to keep up. I want people to know I appreciate the time they've taken to read and react to my fic, and you never know if you're going to connect with someone new and make a new fandom friend.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Give Me Pure Energy (Stiles/Peter): the alternative season 2 where Stiles craves some normalcy and befriends a new kid in his econ class, only to realize that maybe they both want more from each other than just a simple friendship. This is a super darkfic anyway, and has the kind of ending that's happy only if you're ok with all the awful things that Peter does during the fic... but generally, I like my angst with a happy ending so this is the best I can do.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh gosh, so many of my fics have happy endings... that's how I like em... uhhh. I'm going to go with one of my all time favorites:
Stuck Between Stations (Stiles/Peter): the one where Peter and Stiles are stuck in a time-loop inside The Wild Hunt.
8. Do you get hate on fics? I have been so lucky to not get much hate. If people are talking about my work behind my back, it's not getting back to me. And aside from an odd comment or two, I've gotten through about 20 years of fandom without having to deal with random hate.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. I've written m/m, m/f, f/f, and, I think an m/m/f once... but I'm into all sorts of things and have fun writing about it
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I have in the past; a Harry Potter/BBC Sherlock x-over that got abandoned. I've also done a few prompt challenges that lead to crossovers/fusions like SPN meets MJN Air, etc.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? god, I hope not!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, I have been so lucky to have a few of my fics translated into different languages. It's always such an honor, and I give full permission for people to translate my work as long as they connect it back to mine on AO3.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have but it's been ages. And I think there may be someone *cough*@punchedbymarkesmith*cough* that would be great to collaborate with if an opportunity presented itself...
14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Steter it would seem. I've been reading and writing it since 2016...!
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I fully intend to finish It's Only Forever, but I've used some of the ideas for it in other things, so I know it will be hard to get back into where I was going with it. I don't want to abandon it, but it's been a few years... le sigh.
16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm pretty good with dialogue, especially banter. I think I'm also great at taking a small detail from canon and using that to world build something different.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Oh, that's easy: action and mystery. I really wish I could write a good casefic or mystery plot, and I just can't. I have to distract and misdirect at the end... I have to do the same with the action, too.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't trust myself. I might confer with someone who speaks that language if it was really needed, but I would probably do something like:
"Wow, I can't believe you survived that helicopter crash," he said in Spanish.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Gundam Wing, followed my Newsies and Harry Potter.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written? I already gave a call out to Stuck Between Stations above, so I'm going to have to go with:
At This Truth We Have Arrived (Stiles/Peter): Five years after the death of Laura, Peter returns to Beacon Hills only to be confronted by the truth that the pack has moved on without him. But the fact that everything he once knew has changed isn't necessarily a bad thing; not when there is someone like Stiles who is so full of possibilities.
OR as my WIP notes for this fic say: "Peter is curious. They do something. Murder murder. Sex sex."
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➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      
Chapter 35 - Taxi Ride. Episode 3.
Robert: About 5 minutes later he joined me, drying his eyes a bit as he sat down on the two person couch, next to the big couch I was sitting on He went to take that shower, but he told me he will be with us in a few minutes. He smiled softly and sighed deeply Thank you, Andy.
Andy: I smiled softly If you want something to drink or snack on, please grab whatever you want. There's some different things to chew on, some ice tea, peach I think… some Cognac, Whiskey, Vodka… uh… Bayley's… And we have beers in the fridge… just tell me, and I can go grab one if you would prefer that?
Robert: He smiled softly and grabbed a glass, pouring some Cognac in it This will do just fine. He added a few ice cubes to the glass and sipped it slowly
Andy: How is he?
Robert: Better I think… we talked a bit. He's still a little shook up about everything, but I tried my best to calm him down.
Andy: I smiled softly and sipped my Whiskey, feeling light headed as I had already had a whole glass before Evans dad had decided to join me… I had to calm my own nerves somehow you know
Robert: Thank you, for taking such good care of my son. I can see you really love him… and he loves you too.
Andy: I smiled happily and blushed over my cheeks I know he does He's amazing really, in everything he does… you can be very proud of him…
Robert: I am… I always were he sipped his Cognac slowly again and smiled softly I get so happy when I see the love shine in your eyes. I remember when my wife and I used to be so much in love.
Andy: I frowned softly Oh? Things aren't…
Robert: Shook his head lightly No… not the past couple of years…. she hasn't even touched me the past 2 years.
Andy: I coughed a bit as I spat some of my Whiskey back into my glass
Robert: Sighed softly and smiled gently She says she's too old for needs… but I'm not. He shook his head and sipped his glass Oh, enough about that… I don't want Evan to have to worry about us, he has enough on his own*
Evan: Sighed softly It's alright dad. It goes both ways you know. If I can share my problems with you, you could also share with me… he sighed as he sunk down in the couch next to me, cuddled up under a big flannel shirt that covered his boxers… it looked almost like a dress on him… making him damn sexy! Wait… was that Congo's old work clothes? I leaned in and sniffed the shirt a bit Yup… definitely Congo's shirt, although this one was more or less clean. Didn't prevent me from catching a whiff of his intoxicating smell though. Mmmm… NO ANDY!!! Stop!!!
Robert: It's alright my boy… nothing much to tell. It just seems we have gone our separate ways, but without really leaving yet.
Evan: He frowned softly and poured himself a Vodka, curling his knees against his chest as he leaned his back against my arm, so he was hiding a bit from his dad, but still there in the room
Andy: I kissed his hair softly and smiled as he smelled like my shampoo. I knew bathing with my 'girly bath products' as he calls them, always soothes him when he feels extra crappy… I guess he loves smelling like me. I smiled brightly at the thought and kissed his hair again
Evan: He looked up at me with a soft smile, talking in a low, sleepy voice Kiss me…
Andy: I hesitated a second, but his dad? Never mind, I decided to go for it before he changed his mind, and leaned in, planting a gentle loving kiss on his lips
Evan: As I pulled away, I guess he caught a glimpse of his dad, and realised his sleepy brain had forgotten we weren't alone, as he blushed deep red and quickly sipped about half of his full glass of Vodka. But he said nothing.
Andy: For about an hour his dad and I talked about the talk show and life in general, Evan once in a while joining in with a few words. And as Evan's dad, minor tipsy started talking about calling a cab so he could get to the motel, I told him it was nonsense, and made up the first floor guest bedroom for him. So when Evan and I few minutes later snuggled up in bed, I was glad to feel his mood was a bit better. Or maybe it was the Vodka talking?
Evan: Thank you…
Andy: For what?
Evan: For offering my dad to stay.. and for making a room for him.
Andy: No problem… you really don't have to thank me.
Evan: But I want to… It was too dark to see anything in the room, so I couldn't help but gasp as I felt his lips lock around my dick, sucking it lightly. I did not see that coming!!
Andy: Evan I whispered loudly into the dark room Are you sure you want to? I mean… your dad's I moaned softly as I felt myself getting hard
Evan: I need you inside me…
Andy: This boy had definitely lost it! But man I needed to be inside him too!!
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solomontoaster · 1 year
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10 Lines Tag Game
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!
Thanks to @pianodoesterror. This made me realize how little fic I've written recently lmao.
when you smile i am undone (The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, <1k, part 1 of series)
Jaskier held his 9-month-old daughter out in front of him. “You are my greatest and strangest achievement, little Lubka.”
Luba giggled and stuck her hand in her mouth. “Ag’n,” she mumbled around her hand.
Jaskier raised and eyebrow, preparing his ‘silly scolding’ voice. “Is being thrown in the air ten times not enough for you?"
in front of a closed door (we aren't disturbing anything are we) (The Terror, Tozer & Blanky, <1k)
In retrospect, it was perhaps not a good idea to have started this conversation in front of Crozier’s office when he was in a meeting with Mx. Fitzjames, but in Solomon’s defense, he hadn’t expected the question, “Do you have any recommendations for interesting challah recipes?” to lead to an argument. 
smoke and ash (The Terror, Des Voeux & Jopson, <1k)
The smoke was thick in the air making his lungs ache and Fred found he could hardly breath without a coughing fit coming on, but there were still men in the tent. He gasped, trying to catch his breath as men brushed past him, and there was a spark of panic in his chest when he found he couldn’t. Then he was being grabbed by the back of his costume and dragged away. He tried to fight it, to stay and keep helping men, but it was hard to resist when breathing was a struggle. 
dignity in letters (The Terror, Fitzjames & Anne Ross, 2k, part 3 of series)
Anne Ross fought the urge to pull out the letter from Captain Fitzjames that she currently had tucked in her bodice as she stared out the vestibule window. It was the last letter she had received from Fitzjames before he and Francis had left to come visit herself and James. She’d read it over enough times that rereading it now would be pointless, but she was also presently agonizing over the fact that she should have replied sooner.  Much sooner. There had been plenty of time for it, only… she hadn’t been sure how to answer the question Fitzjames had posed within. 
gin and lime (The Terror, Fitzjames/Irving, <1k, part 2 of series)
John leaned against the doorway of their small kitchen, groggy from having just woken. He watched as James fussed about on the messy countertop, in the process of making something that seemed to involve an awful lot of limes. “What are you up to now?”
“Making a cordial,” was James’ reply, which explained nothing.
“Why?”
salt meat (The Terror, Fitzjames/Tozer, <1k, part 5 of a series)
“None of the salt meat on Terror and Erebus was kosher.”
Solomon looked up from the small figure he was carving. “This is just occurring to you?” 
i have been instructed to burn their letters (The Terror, Louisa Fitzjames (OC) & Fitzjames/Crozier, 1k, part 6 in series)
Recently Donated Collection of Family Papers Reveals New Information on the Lives of Famed Polar Explorers James Fitzjames and Francis Crozier
October 25, 2022 By Ginger Peterson, MA
“I have been instructed to burn their letters, but I’m afraid I cannot bear to do so,”  - Louisa Fitzjames to Elizabeth Dawson nee Doyle
Quiet and Cold (The Terror/Historical RPF/The Quiet Year, Gen, 6k)
Week one: A young boy starts digging in the ground, and discovers something unexpected. What is it?
While searching their campsite Robert Golding uncovers an old food cache. 
The James Fitzjames also sends out a hunting party to take advantage of the game in the area, the party expects to be gone for two weeks.
where past and future meet (The Terror/The Musketeers/Spotless, Grimaud/Jopson & Jopson & Silna, 7k)
Fall 2015, Buckinghamshire, England  Thomas stood in front of his desk in what had once been Sir James Clark Ross’ study. Well, Ross had rented the place, not owned it, but the Abbey at Aston Abbotts would always be Captain Ross’ home to Thomas, regardless of the fact that he—with Lucien’s help—had purchased it outright in a fit of nostalgia almost a decade ago. 
the more i love, the more i drown (The Terror, Fitzjames/Ross, 18k, ongoing)
Fitzjames was on watch atop a low ridge just north of their camp when he saw them; a group of people, trekking with a sledge in their direction. However, even with a spyglass, he was unable to make out the figures properly. His left eye was all but useless, and while his right was better, it still wasn’t much help trying to distinguish details at a distance. He thought the approaching group looked like Navy men, but he couldn’t quite tell and, in truth, rescue seemed almost too hopeful now.
And I will tag.... @whalersandsailors, @handfuloftime and anyone else who wants to do this.
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leedosbunnyboy · 3 years
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Jaehyun; Lunch Break
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Genre: Angst, Smut
Pairing: Jaehyun x M!Reader
Requested: no
Warning(s): mentions of homophobia, handjobs, fingering, degradation, rim job, eating out, cum eating, semi-public sex, mentions of exhibitionism, implied penetrative sex
Summary: On your dad's birthday, he decides to have a family dinner. Little do you know, he chose the restaurant your boyfriend works at.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hide everyone!" My oldest brother yelled as he saw our dad return from work.
All six of us hid behind couches, doors, and tables as we awaited Dad walking through the door.
Thick, heavy footsteps stopped outside the door as the knob began to turn with a small squeak.
"SURPRISE!" We all yelled as dad smiled.
"Thank you kids." He said and invited all of us into a hug.
"Don't forget me!" Mom complained as she pecked him on the cheek.
We each took our turns handing him out gifts as he took his time appreciating each one.
As we cleaned up the mess of discarded present wrappers and neglected price tags, the topic of dinner was brought up by our youngest sister.
"I'm hungry!" Whined Naeun as she plopped on the floor.
"Speaking of it, I am too." My youngest brother, Minhyeon, said.
"I could go for dinner." My oldest brother, Juyeon, chimed in.
Thus started the arguing of which restaurant to go to as your parents rolled their eyes at our pointless fighting.
"QUIET!" Bellowed our mother.
"It's your dad's birthday, so he gets to choose where we eat." She said and looked up to our dad.
We stood around as we awaited our dad's final verdict.
"Alright! I've decided." He said and stood up.
"Where are we going?" My older sister, Songyee, asked.
"That's a surprise." He said and grabbed his keys.
I knew dad would say something along those lines, considering he never gives a straight answer. We all hopped into the car and waited to see which restaurant dad chose as our destination.
Along the way I decided to text my boyfriend, Jaehyun, out of boredom.
Me:
Jae :(
Jaehyun<3:
Yes baby?
Me:
I'm bored and wanna talk
Jaehyun<3:
Why are you bored?
Me:
It's my dad's birthday, and he's taking us to some 'mystery' restaurant to celebrate.
Jaehyun<3:
Well I'd love to keep my babyboy company, but I've got to get back to work.
Me:
:,(
Jaehyun<3:
I'll be on lunch break soon, then we can talk. Okay babe?
Me:
Yeah, talk to you later. I love you.
Jaehyun<3:
I love you too<3
"We're here!" Dad yelled out as he parked the car.
We each hopped out and entered the restaurant.
It was on the fancier side with many intricate designs on the walls and decor.
We waited to be seated as the place seemed to be packed.
"I'm so sorry about the wait. How many to be seated?" Asked the lady at the counter.
"Seven." Dad answered.
The lady gathered the menus and led us to our table.
"We'll have a waiter with you shortly." She said and left shortly after.
"I see someone wanted somewhere 'high-up' for his birthday." Juyeon joked.
"This is a nice restaurant, Dad!" Cheered Naeun.
"Well I wanted somewhere nice to celebrate with my wonderful family." Dad smiled.
"Hi! I'm Jaehyun and I'll be your wai- (M/n! You didn't tell me you were gonna be here." Jaehyun said.
"(M/n), do you know him?" Mom asked me.
"Yeah, he's a friend." I lied.
I could see the smile on his face fade into one of defeat.
"Anyways, I'll be getting your drinks before I go on my lunch break." Jaehyun said and pulled out his notepad.
We each ordered our drinks and I couldn't even look Jaehyun in the eyes.
"I'll get your drinks out as soon as possible." He said before turning around.
"Wait, Jaehyun was it?" Dad called him down.
"Yes sir?" He responded.
"You said you were going on your lunch break soon. So why not join us?" Dad told Jaehyun.
"Are you sure?" Jae asked with a dumbfounded expression.
"Of course! Any friend of my kids is welcome." Dad cheered.
"Well thank you. I'll get your drinks and be right back." He said and hurriedly ran into the kitchen.
"Hey (M/n). Your friend's cute." Songyee whispered.
"Well he's off-limits." I whispered back.
She sat back and pouted and then continued to look over the menu.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jaehyun came back with our drinks and was out of his uniform in favor of a loose black shirt.
"Thank you again for welcoming me." He said as he took his seat next to me.
"Anytime Jaehyun." Mom said with a smile.
I felt Jaehyun's hand slowly attempt to intertwine our fingers underneath the table, but I swatted him away. He responded by looking at me with puppy eyes as I ignored him to straighten my posture.
"(M/n), why don't you ever invite Jaehyun over?" Mom asked me.
"I wonder the same thing." Jaehyun said under his breath.
I elbowed him in the ribs and then turned my attention back to my parents.
"He's usually busy with school or work, so there's never been a good time." I said.
My mom nodded as her attention was taken by the new waiter.
"Is everyone ready to order?" He asked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dinner was fun and lighthearted, except for me and Jaehyun.
He would try to make conversation with me, but I would simply ignore him or give simple answers.
I could tell he was getting frustrated by the way his grip on his cup was getting tighter, to the point where his knuckles were beginning to turn pale. The tip of his ears turned bright red, and for a second I thought I could see steam coming from his ears.
But somehow, he was still able to keep a smile and make conversation with my family.
I'm pretty sure they began to sense the tension as they would give us these looks of concern.
"I need to use the restroom." I said and left the table in a hurry. I knew he was following me based off the frustrated, heavy footsteps trailing behind me.
As soon as I entered the bathroom I was pinned against the wall.
"Jae! What are yo-!" I couldn't even finish my sentence before Jaehyun's lips met mine. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and tangled my hands into his hair as he forced his tongue into my mouth.
"Why have you been ignoring me (M/n)?" He asked in a deep, husky tone.
I didn't answer him and instead tried to grind into him to give friction to my aching cock.
"Answer me." He growled and gripped my hips.
"Because I don't know what my dad would do if he knew I was with a guy!" I exclaimed.
He slowly trailed his hand to toy with my cock through my jeans.
"You could've just told me that instead of ignoring me. I felt hurt (M/n)." Jaehyun said as he moved his hand up and down in a slow rhythm.
"I'm sorry Jae-!" I whined when he slipped his hand inside of my pants.
We both kept quiet as Jaehyun continued to work on giving me a handjob. His movements getting progressively louder as more pre-cum leaked from my slit.
Without warning, he turned me around and pinned me against the wall.
"Such a bad boy for ignoring me. You deserve to be punished." Jaehyun whispered which sent chills down my spine.
He gave my ass a hard slap which caused me to yelp in pain.
"Shh! We're still in a public bathroom, remember? Unless you wanna be seen getting absolutely wrecked." He smirked as he lowered my pants and boxers to my knees.
"But you'd probably love that you fucking slut." He growled and spit on my hole.
"J-jae, isn't this your l-lunchbreak?" I asked.
"Don't worry baby. I already found what I want to eat." He inserted a finger into me as he continued to give me a handjob.
"Does that feel good?" Jaehyun asked after he inserted another finger.
I nodded furiously as I whined out an incoherent answer.
"Use words whore." He demanded.
"Y-you're so fu-fucking good, Jae." I moaned as he added a third finger.
"Good boy." He complemented and pulled out his fingers.
I whined in frustration to being empty and Jaehyun smirked at this.
"Calm down sweetheart. I'll get to the main course." He immeadiatly began to lick and kiss around and on my hole.
Jaehyun then slowly began to lick and bite before savagely eating me out my hole as if he had been starved for years.
I digged my fingers into the palm of my hand due to being overwhelmed by the pure ecstasy that is Jaehyun's tongue.
All throughout this, he never stopped giving me a handjob, and I could feel myself reaching my climax.
"Jaehyun~, I'm gon-na bust!" I moaned out.
"Cum baby." He said and then continued to ravage my hole with his tongue.
After a few seconds I came all over his hand and some even managed to land on the wall.
Jaehyun brought his hand to his mouth before licking up my cum.
He smeared the leftovers on my hole before licking it up.
He grabbed a few paper towels and cleaned up his hand, my dick, and the cum that landed on the wall. He pulled up my pants before I collapsed into his arms.
"We should get back to dinner." I said, but Jaehyun instead roughly placed me on the counter.
"We're not done here yet baby. We're not leaving until I cum. So be prepared to ride this dick like a pretty slut." He whispered into my ear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"They've been gone for a while don't you think?" (M/n)'s mom commented.
Their food had arrived 30 minutes and they were prepared for dessert.
"Ju, go check on your younger brother." His dad said as Juyeon headed towards the bathroom.
He walked into the bathroom and was met with...
"Jae, faster, faster, fuck-!" (M/n) moaned.
"(M/n), you're so fucking tight! Take this cock like a good little slut!" Jaehyun growled to the boy pinned underneath him.
"Ahem!" Juyeon coughed.
Both boys looked in shock at the person standing in front of them.
"Am I interrupting something?"
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livingalifeofasimp · 3 years
Note
Hello! If it isn't too much, may I ask for a yan Zhongli x Reader, in which the Reader is the reincarnation, with bits of memories and personality, of Guizhong.. essentially Guizhong reborn.
Warning : This content contains Yandere themes, if you are sensitive please refrain yourself from reading it, arts belong to it's respective owner only the content is mine.
I am still alive (~‾▿‾)~
Tagging : @blueskywater-happiness
 🎕 Yandere Zhongli X Reader 🎕
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✥Zhongli holded Memory of dust in his hands, the stone dumbbell which contained her wisdom, and was  challenged by her to unlock it. He still remember her, years passed away but the pain and memories of her still resided in his heart. Till this day he was not able to open it no matter how hard he tries, calm, kind hearted, the person he is today was made by her.
"Guizhong look at all the people here living their life the way you wanted them to be, I hope you are happy wherever you are".
Guizhong is the late Goddness of Dust, she was Morax's ally and best friend, she lost her life during Archon war with Zhongli by her side, death of a best friend, the only one close to him caused him misery even tho he is deprived of understanding emotions better, through life goes on and you learn to live without them.
✥Zhongli slipped tea through a decorated cup while waiting for a foreigner, Childe who was going to make him meet a stranger who wanted to set up a business dinner as per Liyue custom. 
A sudden knock made Zhongli look up towards the sound "Yahooo Zhongli",  just after Childe you walked in, you looked like someone he knew, your hair, your smile, your eyes glittering and the aura you had was quite familiar to him.
"I am Y/N thank you for giving us your time" 
"Our Zhongli is such a nice sir - " Childe saw Zhongli staring at your face causing him to smirk "I know this lady is quite really pretty, I hope -" Embarrassed Zhongli intruped Childe "Let's get down with business". 
✥Even you didn't knew anything about Zhongli, you still felt like you knew him from somewhere maybe you both must have crossed your paths, at the end you said what you wanted too. 
 "I feel like I have seen you from somewhere",
Zhongli was surprised, his eyes widen it couldn't be true right? People who go away didn't come back right? His mind must be playing game, it sure has to be it. He has seen people go and new ones coming all the people he had are replaced by new ones, not replaced exactly but it do not make any difference, no one can take their places, he don't want to be caughted in such misery but the cycle repeats itself.
"Certainly I hope so",
His calm and welcoming response made you smile, you hoped too it felt warm, it made you smile.
✥Undefined force made Zhongli meet you again and again, was it all just a coincidence or a fate leading, you would always invited him for lunch, dinner or even just for a walk, no matter how much Zhongli wanted to run away from the warmth you gave off, because one day you will be gone too just like others so there was no meaning to get close to you. You looked just like her, not the same but it still felt like you were traces of her, from which he desperately wanted to run away.
✥"Sir Zhongli, are you going somewhere?", You have seen him after such a long time maybe after one or two weeks, at some point you made Zhongli want to look out and search for you, no matter how much he pushes you away, he still find himself surrounded by your presence which make him loose control and hug you, urge you to hug him back comfort him, saying you won't go. Zhongli stopped his mind which was racing from such thoughts and invited you for star gazing.
"Miss L/N if you are free let's go to star gazing I am sure you must have seen such things but-" 
"I don't mind let's go, I have been so tired of my work", you were so happy to finally make him open up to you besides its good to take breaks every now and then.
✥"Miss please take care of yourself, it would be bad if you got hurt, I hope you are taking 3 meals a day, please drink enough water and if you ever feel troubled by something don't give it any second thought just come to me I will be more than happy to help you", Zhongli looked at your shocked face, he must have lectured you enough, just when he was going to apologize for it, you burst out giggling, it felt good to have someone to worry for you, your smile made Zhongli's cheek turned red, it was so peaceful, your laughs were like her just a bit more melodic and sweet. 
✥"Yes I will take care of myself, you too take care of yourself", Zhongli fake coughed and went ahead of you so that you couldn't see his face smiling like a child that hided with his one hand. "I appreciate your concern, let's meet tonight", he walked away leaving a confused you behind.
Just like a true gentleman Zhongli waited for you, only to see you looking all very pretty and perfect, infamous smile decorated his face, you grin in response before giving your hands in his. 
✥"It's pretty isn't it", you looked towards the sky, stars hanging in them, small or big it looked like sparking dust, which was a very pleasing sight.
"It is", there is nothing new, Zhongli is almost tried of the same view yet it felt good to have someone by his side, for those moments he did not feel lonely. 
"We humans are so fragile like a dust in this universe which is so big, when I look up, it feels like things can disappear just another second",
Zhongli flinched, as he slowly turned to look at your face, a delicate face that was looking at the stars curiously, your form shining under moonlight, you, are you really Guizhong, his hands extended to touch you, or are you just a illusion, your eyes founded it's way back to Zhongli beautiful face who flinched again at your sudden movement.
"Did I say something weird don't mind me", you laughed to lighten the atmosphere.
✥After that Zhongli's attention and focus wholeheartedly shifted towards you, he couldn't help but compare Guizhong and her reincarnation, you are a bit more carefree, cheerful and not as knowledgeable as her, he didn't blame you for it, you are just as cute as a child. No matter how hard he tried to push you away, everytime you would comeback, since you so persistent, he lost. Your liveliness made him fall for you, deep and hard to the point of no return, since you embraced him, he will hold you back just as tight to know that you are there and not disappearing at least for now.
✥Zhongli looks forward to meeting you more than he did before, fusses over a small wound more than your grandmother would. You get confused when Zhongli stares at your face quite long before apologizing, you certainly notice how attentive he has became. He smiles ever so brightly when you comes in his view, but you always fail to notice how he deadly glares at all the people and things that do not even breathe when you give them more attention than you give to him. 
✥Zhongli grows to be more possessive and strict yet very loving towards you. His yandere tendency triggers when he saw you injured after coming back from the given mission, Zhongli dropped whatever he was doing and ran towards you, you got hurt his heart dropped, he didn't wanted you to disappear or get a single scratch, not when you give him such a warm and fussy feeling, he felt like a teenager in love but instead he was a obsessive God in love with you.
✥This whole incident will lead Zhongli to appeal for you to stay with him till you get well again or so you thought, he took care of everything you needed even when you don't needed them, he would feed you and do your hair, buy you everything that you desired but going out was prohibited, was it a price to pay for luxury?. 
✥His paranoia will take over his mind if you said you would like to go to your own house, he does understand how homesick you must be feeling but he would feel the same if you left and it will be terrible because if you tried to escape from him or state that you hate him, his heart will break into millions pieces and might go back to how he was like before and it will be destructive to both you and all the other people, and you might be able to accept his yandere side since you have some memories and most importantly you pity him, so after throwing traumas for a week, in his eyes he thought you were afraid of being trapped in a room, slowly you realized how lonely he has been all these years without you.
✥Zhongli immediately melts when you willing touch him and comfortable him, won't it be better to heal his heart which leaks of sadness and fear of losing you, the person who is dearly valuable to him, he would clingy to you like his life depends on it or maybe it really does.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
351 notes · View notes
buttsmasher · 3 years
Text
Caught
[Here's the photo that inspired this]
Warnings/Tags: Straight to Gay, Roommates, Face Farting, Willing Victim, Alpha Male, Name Calling
You’ve had your fair share of roommates in the past five years, but Alberto was the only one that ever had you questioning your sexuality. There was just something about him that radiated man. Like being in his presence was addicting in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve never had a friend or roommate that you just had to be around. Hell, you haven’t admitted this outloud, but you broke up with your last girlfriend because it was interfering with your time with Alberto. It’s strange.
You’ve never once thought about a man in a sexual way before, but you know deep down that if Alberto asked you’d probably get down on your knees to suck his cock. Just thinking about it is giving you a stiffy. What’s worse is that you get the urges when he’s getting back from the gym or from running around the neighborhood. His smell is intoxicating, which should gross you out, but you’re curious. You kind of want to know what it's like to lick the sweat off his hairy chest. 
You shutter as you reach a hand down to adjust your dick. 
Honestly, you have nothing wrong with gay people or anything. But you’re not gay, there’s no way. You’ve always been into chicks. Alberto on the other hand, seems to be a bit of a fag basher. He definitely has made it known that he knows he’s superior than the fags at the gym (his words). Which is definitely keeping you from trying to make a move on him. Instead you’ve taken it upon yourself to steal his sweaty boxer briefs.
Which is a weird development in all of this. You were content with taking quiet sniffs whenever he was near you, usually pretending you had a runny nose. But now, you’re getting off on his boxer briefs. And you can’t pick if you want to sniff his musky pouch or his ass sweat, which, woof. His ass was rank. 
You always assumed it probably was. You’re not going to deny that your shower routine doesn’t always include washing your ass. But it smelled like Alberto had gone a week without washing his. Somehow that made it all the more pleasurable for you. 
So there you are, sitting on the floor of the living room. Watching Netflix and sniffing on his gross boxer briefs. Alberto shouldn’t be back home for at least another two hours, he always works till 3:00 on Tuesdays. Your hand is in your sweatpants idly stroking your hard cock. Your mind is running through several different scenarios of you getting on your knees for him, or him forcing you to sniff his sweaty armpits. 
“Fucking knew it.”
Your eyes fly open as you see Alberto standing in the entrance of the living room.
“Are those my Jockey’s?” 
You pull the boxer briefs away from your face as you stare in horror. 
“I thought it was weird my undies were disappearing and then reappearing a week later. I should’ve known you were a fag.”
“Look dude, I can totally explain.” You panic.
“Nothing to explain. You just like huffing and getting off to my swamp ass.” 
“It’s not like that.” You try to defend. “I’m straight.”
Alberto laughs. “Yeah, sure you are. So, if I pull my jeans down right now, you wouldn’t crawl over to me and try to put your face in my ass.” You freeze as your mind short circuits. “Don’t put too much thought into it fag. You crave a real man, and here I am.”
“I-I” You struggle to get a thought out.
“Shh, don’t speak.” Alberto pulls his jeans down. “Instead put your face in my sweaty ass.” You can't take your eyes off his hairy ass. You bite your lip, this has to be a trap. “You’ve got ten seconds before I put it away.” Without thinking you jump over to him and plant your face in his crack. “There you go, where a good fag belongs.”
You take the opportunity to sniff up and down his crack. Like you thought, his scent is overwhelming and everything you’ve ever wanted. Which you wouldn’t have thought a year ago. But this is perfect. 
“I know what you fags want. You want a real man to take control and tell you what you want. Like how I know, you want this.”
PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTFFFPRPPRFF
The fart hits you like a freight train. It smells of rotten eggs, however you can’t seem to pull away. Instead you’re sniffing just as hard as you were before.
“See! Fags love this ass. You’re no exception.” 
PFFFFFF
A short airy fart blows across your face and you move your nose so it’s right against his hole. You take a deep whiff and moan against his ass. More of the rotten eggs, but this time a hint of something else.
“Can you tell what I had for lunch?” You shake your head no. “How about now?” He hikes his leg up slightly.
PFFFFFBBRBRBRBFFFFFBBRFFFFFFTTT
Gods it’s intoxicating being under his manly ass. There’s no way you can tell what he ate because you’re too preoccupied with getting his tainted air into your lungs. 
Alberto sighs above you. “Jeez, you fags are so dumb.” 
PFFFFFBBRRFF
“Open your fucking mouth.” You do as he says, making sure your mouth is open against his funky smelling hole.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT
The fart echoes in your mouth making Alberto laugh. It makes you cough and gag as the taste burns down your throat. You are about to pull away when Alberto moves his hand to keep you in place. 
“This is what you want, remember?” And he's right this is what you want. You stay put as he keeps loading your mouth up with farts.
PFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFTT PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT
Another two of his loud farts go down your throat.
“My ass is your god fag.” 
PFFFFFFFFFTTTT
He finally lets you go so you can pull away. You face away from him as you hunch over to cough. The farts were way too much for you and your face feels hot. 
“If you want to get close to my ass, you do as I say. Is that clear fag?” He says gruffly. You can only nod your head yes as you try catching your breath. “Go do my laundry and I’ll let you jack off while you huff on my ass.”
You get up off the ground and avoid eye contact as you walk to his room. 
“And I swear to fucking god, if a pair of my Jockeys are missing I’ll make you regret it!” 
You gulp, knowing that he means the threat. Besides you’re a good fag after all, and you’ll listen to a real man.
178 notes · View notes
five-rivers · 3 years
Text
Danger First
Chapter 3
@pocketramblr (also please let me know if you would like me to stop tagging you on these, I don't want to be annoying. :))
"WAIT!" shouted Nana abruptly, as Izuku was talking to his (weirdo) teacher. "I know who that is! Quick, get ready to turn everything off!"
"Turn what off?" asked En. "We live in a formless mental void. We don't even have electricity."
"The quirk! That's Eraserhead!"
"Oh, yeah," said Yoichi, while everyone else (sans Second and Third) scrambled to grab onto the quirk. "I remember Eight meeting him, now! So, he's a teacher, huh?"
"How do all of you forget the one person who might be capable of one-shotting All for One?" demanded Nana.
"Doesn't his quirk not work on mutations?"
"Stop daydreaming and get over here, Yoichi!"
The quirkspace began to glow faintly, ominously red, and the ghosts pulled hard on the quirk, holding it temporarily out of Izuku's reach.
Then, the red glow abated and they dropped it back into place.
"Well, that was exhausting," said Banjo. "So, we'll have to be constantly ready for that, huh?"
"As long as he's around, yeah," said Nana.
"Why did we just do that, anyway?" asked En.
"So we can continue to masquerade as a normal, non-haunted quirk?"
"We could have just let him think he didn't have a quirk, or that the anxiety-"
"Super anxiety."
"-isn't part of it."
Yoichi gasped, as if scandalized. "You'd want us to lie to Izuku?"
"Okay, seriously, what is up with you and Nine?" asked En.
Despite not having a body, Yoichi began to visibly sweat. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just... think he's neat?"
"If you're going to lie to us, can you not do it with archaeomemes?" asked Nana.
"No, no, actually, I can get behind this," said En. "Would you say Izuku has... vibes?"
Yoichi nodded solemnly.
.
"Young Midoriya!"
Izuku shrieked and jumped back from the sudden sound as All Might suddenly emerged from an otherwise innocuous bush.
Both of them froze, staring at each other.
"Are you..." said All Might, hesitantly, sounding much more like he did in his small form than usual, "alright?"
"I... think so?"
"That's good, then." All Might coughed slightly into his fist. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes."
"Of- of course!" said Izuku, immediately.
"Then allow me to lead the way!"
All Might led him through a door labeled 'staff only' and immediately deflated. "All the staff know about my condition," explained Mr. Yagi.
Izuku nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Yagi?"
"Yes, my boy?"
"Why, um, why don't you teach, um, as Mr. Yagi? Instead of as All Might? Wouldn't it save your time?"
Mr. Yagi stopped and scratched his head. "I hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But part of the reason I took this job, other than wanting to help train the next generation of heroes, of course, is that I want to get people used to the idea that I am going to retire." He tugged on one of his bangs. "Also, ah, I'm not sure if my qualifications to teach are quite up to par without my reputation."
"I'm sure it would be fine! You're the best, after all!"
Mr. Yagi chuckled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. Then he reached behind him and opened a door. "In any case: my office."
"Wow," said Izuku, quietly, stepping in. "All Might's office..." Who knew when he'd get another opportunity like this again? He kept his eyes wide to drink in the details.
The rather sparse details. The office was rather bare. Which made sense, seeing as All Might was a brand-new teacher. It was sort of... disappointing, as thrilling as it was.
Mr. Yagi sat down behind the desk and gestured for Izuku to take one of the other chairs. It had a lot of cushioning. A lot a lot. Izuku sank down into the fluff as Mr. Yagi fiddled with a drawer on his desk. He got the drawer open, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook of the same brand Izuku liked to use, actually.
"Since your experiences with One for All are so different from mine, I thought it might be a good idea to do some research into past holders and take a leaf out of your notebook, as it were." He passed the notebook over to Izuku, who took it with shaking hands and a slightly open mouth.
"I'll treasure it," he declared, voice wobbling.
"Not so much that you don't use it, I hope," said Mr. Yagi. "As it is, it's only an overview. The earlier holders, especially, don't have many records associated with them. Consider it a starting point. I haven't had much time to work on it."
"I can't believe you found the time to write this at all," said Izuku, flipping through the pages. The information was sparse, but each holder had a basic profile, all the way back to the fourth. "I mean, between being a hero, training me, and preparing to be a teacher, I'm stunned nothing fell by the wayside!"
Mr. Yagi proceeded to turn a very interesting color.
"Uh, nothing fell by the wayside, right?"
"Why don't you take a few minutes to skim through. If anything jumps out at you right away, we can talk about it. And then I'll let you go get changed and go home, and we can discuss more later, after you've had more time with it."
"Okay!" said Izuku. He'd start with just the basic profiles. Name, date of birth, date of death, quirk... wait, those ages... "They all died young," he said, softly.
"Hero work is dangerous," said Mr. Yagi, hand going to his side.
"There's something else, isn't there?"
"Not something you need to worry about. I took care of it, years ago." The hand holding his side spasmed slightly.
"... Six years ago?" asked Izuku, aware he was pushing his luck. But this sounded both important and relevant.
There was a long pause. "Yes," said All Might, finally. "A villain with a longevity quirk. He... had a history with the first user."
Izuku got the feeling that was an understatement. It also seemed unlikely that the only application of the villain's quirk was longevity, given what he'd done to All Might. But the subject was clearly making All Might uncomfortable, so he dropped it in favor of burying his nose in the notebook again.
(Social fumbles aside, this was the most secure Izuku had felt for... a while.)
"The sixth user had a smoke quirk?"
"Yes, it seems so. Although it doesn't seem to have been actual smoke, but a biological compound."
"I wonder if that has anything to do with all the steam you release when you deflate. Actually..." he flipped back through the quirk. "I wonder if you're using Float, too, subconsciously, when you jump."
"What?"
"I- I mean," said Izuku, "I noticed, when, um, when I grabbed your ankle and also in videos of you- Your hang time is kind of messed up? You're in the air for longer than you should be, but it isn't, like, consistent? Plus, you can change direction mid-air, which I thought was because you were shooting out blasts of air pressure with your quirk, but with me on your ankle, you definitely didn't do that. There was- there was a forum I was on where some people thought your quirk tapped into magnetic fields, somehow, but that doesn't make any sense, because you'd expect a lot more electronic interference and that similar locations would produce similar results, given the Earth's magnetic field, but they don't. But subconscious, low-level use of a telekinesis-based flying quirk would explain everything. If we take into account what you said about my anxiety after the entrance exam, then that's minor expressions of three out of four of the quirks listed here, not counting the base stockpile and enhancement quirk. Do you think the unknown quirks of the second and third users might have partially manifested for you as well? Have you experienced anything else that's atypical for a strength enhancement quirk?"
Mr. Yagi stared at Izuku.
Oh, no, he'd gone too far.
"Nothing immediately comes to mind, my boy," he said, faintly. "But... magnets? Really?"
"I told you it didn't make any sense."
Mr. Yagi rubbed his chin. "There might be something, but... it's too unclear to say either way. I'll keep an eye out. It's just... a lot to take in. I thought One for All was done surprising me."
"When has it surprised you before?"
"Oh, under the influence of certain mental quirks, you can wind up hallucinating the previous users."
"Hallucinating?"
"Yes. But being under the influence of a mental quirk is always the larger issue, so..."
"Mr. Yagi," said Izuku. "That's really the kind of thing you should let people know about up front."
"I- is it?"
.
The ghosts all stared at Nana.
"Hey, don't blame this on me! None of us explained that kind of stuff before passing One for All on."
"In our defense," said En, half raising a hand, "we were usually dying when we passed it on."
"More importantly," said Hikage, "do you think Ninth is right about the quirks?"
"It would make sense," mused Yoichi. "Although then we'd have to wonder why Blackwhip didn't manifest similarly."
"Is it too much for me to get someone to use my quirk? My extremely awesome quirk, that has no downsides?"
"It is powered almost exclusively by rage."
"No downsides."
"You-"
"No. Downsides."
.
Aizawa passed him an envelope labeled 'quirk counseling' along with the standard schedule and orientation packet he was handing to everyone else. It didn't look like any of his class mates had noticed, though, for which Izuku was grateful. He didn't want to be known as a weirdo who didn't know what his own quirk was.
He heavily suspected he was tapping into Danger Sense, somehow, but he didn't know how, and the fourth user of One for All had lived so long ago there weren't any records of him. Not easily and publicly available. Everything Mr. Yagi had written in his notebook (that Izuku had probably stayed up way too late reading... and texting Mr. Yagi about it... and comparing it to his notes... and texting Mr. Yagi about that... and reviewing old All Might compilations and theory threads... and having Mr. Yagi threaten to call his mom if he didn't go to sleep...) about the fourth user had been retrieved from the journals Mr. Yagi's mentor had passed down, according to one of the source notes in the margin.
(Mr. Yagi had really neat, small handwriting, which Izuku wouldn't have ever expected from his large, dramatic signatures as All Might, and his notes were meticulous and carefully cited. If Izuku didn't know better, he would have thought it belonged to a secretary.)
But despite Izuku's suspicions, he didn't actually know. He didn't know it's range, what it defined as danger, whether or not it 'ranked' dangers, how to distinguish it from normal anxiety, or- Well. Anything, really. And he would really like to.
He opened the envelope quietly. Inside was a handwritten note instructing him to pick one of three schedules for quirk counseling and return it to Aizawa by the end of the day. The other pages were printed, with times and possible locations. Options for both before and after the school day.
Izuku felt his eyes tearing up. This was easily the nicest thing a teacher had ever done for him... Although he was nervous about being alone with Aizawa. Some of his other teachers, when they asked him to stay after class it was... not good.
Nothing bad happened, not like in movies or TV shows or the awareness videos the school had shown sometimes. The teachers didn't hurt him, really, didn't do anything to him, other than talk or yell, mostly, but it still wasn't good.
Maybe he could ask Mr. Yagi or Recovery Girl to sit in... But he already felt bad, taking up so much of their time.
He picked one of the after school schedules. He was already staying late on the other days to work with Mr. Yagi, and if something did go wrong, he wanted to have the night to recover before he had to face Aizawa again in class.
He put it to the side, so he'd remember to give it to Aizawa before he left, then looked over the class schedule. Homeroom, Math, Hero Art History, History, and English in the morning. At least this morning. The history classes alternated with something called Heroics-Applied Science and Hero Law and Ethics. Afternoons, meanwhile, were entirely occupied by Hero Basic Training.
And every class would be taught by a pro hero. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for their autographs...
.
Shouta grunted as Hizashi flopped down onto the couch next to him on the couch in the staff breakroom. "What a morning! I just love seeing all those bright little faces at the beginning of the year. Anyone have a favorite first year yet?"
Shouta kicked Hizashi through his sleeping bag. Sadly, this had no effect on the man.
"I think mine might be the little green guy. He's the only one who was actually paying attention, and you know how rare that is, when everyone is anticipating their first heroics lesson. The rest of us just pale in comparison."
Shouta attempted to kick Hizashi again, this time for an entirely different reason. Midoriya was already All Might's favorite (probably)- he did not need more pull with the staff.
"I know who my least favorite is," said Kan. "Kid's certainly dedicated and competitive, but I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened his middle school teachers into giving him those glowing reviews. His personality needs a lot of work. How did you get Nezu to saddle me with Bakugo, anyway, Eraser?"
"I had nothing to do with it."
"Don't give me that, I was going to have Monoma. At least he's a team player."
"You're being illogical," said Shouta, zipping his sleeping bag closed over his face.
"How about you, Nemuri?" asked Hizashi, cutting off Vlad King vs Eraserhead round five hundred.
"It's hard to choose! They're all so cute and eager! Full of the passion of youth! I think they're all my favorite."
"You always say that..."
The door opened and closed.
"All Might! What about you? Any favorites yet?"
Yagi coughed. "I've only had the one class of third years so far. Don't you think that's rather... premature?"
What an incredible nonanswer.
"How did that first class of yours go, anyway? They didn't sour you to the whole idea of teaching, did they?"
"Not at all! The students were wonderful. The third years are very advanced, aren't they? For some of them, I wouldn't be shocked to see that skill level on an active sidekick."
"What can I say? We start them off right," crowed Hizashi.
"They did seem a little surprised by the scenario, however."
"So was I, t'be honest," said Snipe, who was in charge of the third years.
"Ah, was it no good...?"
"It was fine. Lesson plan was a bit rough around the edges, but you and Nezu'll be goin' over that later. But... quirk traffickin' doesn't quite seem like your thing."
"Ah, well, set-pieces," he said, using the slightly derisive underground slang for large-scale spotlight hero battles, "may be what I'm known for, but before my injury, the majority of my battles and investigations weren't publicized."
"Shield laws?" asked Nemuri.
"Generally, yes, but some of the investigations were tied to others, so we were using the organized crime secrecy laws to keep those under wraps. Simply put, my popularity isn't the only reason I keep the number one spot despite Endeavor having more completed cases than me on paper."
Shouta had known there was more to All Might than 'punchy, over-the-top, eyestrain-causing, bombastic muscle guy,' but part of his stupid, illogical brain was annoyed at Yagi for pummeling that image into imaginary dust, anyway. It seemed like the man's only two flaws were horrible interpersonal skills when not using his public persona, and his vast suite of health issues, the latter of which all heroes who operated long enough picked up.
Oh, and a possible inclination towards bribery.
Made it hard to dislike him, which Shouta wanted to do, because he was loud, flashy, and gave him headaches, literal and metaphorical. He ignored the fact that Hizashi was the same way, and had forcibly become Shouta's best friend. Clearly, there was no connection here.
"By the way, why is young Aizawa completely zipped in like that?"
"Nap time," said Hizashi, solemnly.
.
"Sir?" said Iida, raising his hand.
"Yes, young man?" boomed All Might.
"There are nineteen of us. How are we handling the odd person out?"
"Excellent question! In other exercises, we may handle it differently, but for today, one of you will be working alone! Occasionally, a hero may find themselves isolated when they originally expected help. However, for better balance, I have also arranged it so the odd hero out will be taking part in the last battle, so you'll have more time to strategize!"
But the other team would also have more time to strategize, Izuku noted. He really hoped it wouldn't be him... not that he wanted to force it on any if his classmates! He just didn't want yet another handicap on the first day of training.
All Might walked around with the box of ballots, pausing for each student to take one. He reached Izuku and held the box out to him with a wink. Izuku smiled back, reached in, and grabbed one.
A chill ran up his back and he froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the little ball. Something told him this was definitely the cursed, single-person ballot. Could he let it go? Would it be considered cheating if he picked a new one?
But All Might was already walking away. Every part of his body tense, Izuku turned his hand over and forced his fingers apart.
J.
The tenth character of the Latin alphabet. For the tenth, last, team.
He watched as everyone else started to pair up, and All Might looked at him apologetically.
Izuku approximated a smile. Plus ultra, right?
143 notes · View notes
sugakoni · 3 years
Text
single mom!reader (leon x f!reader)
PART 1 |
(a/n) sorry for the delay in this part. i have been really busy and super bleh because of my antidepressants, but tonight i finally feel like writing. this is part 2 of 5, and next part uhhh... might get a little spicy. don't say i didn't warn you lmao. - zee
word count: 1656
contains: angst to an extent
warnings: light swearing, fighting, panic attacks
paring: leon kennedy x fem!reader (single mother)
(feel free to leave requests!) (leon kennedy playlist)
story under the cut
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Staggered breaths were heard inside the house, followed by a loud cough. The area of Spain you were in was surprisingly cold, and the cabin you were in wasn’t helping any, considering how run down it was. Your gun was in your hand, following behind Leon as you kept watch on anything that could happen behind the man.
Leon turned the corner, and you did the same. Seeing a man who was currently filling his fireplace with wood, poking and prodding at it in the mean time.You raised an eyebrow, keeping your gun in your hand as Leon cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, sir, I am Leon Kennedy. I was wondering if you have seen this girl.”
The man turned back at him, speaking in Spanish in a very angry manner. You pursed your lips together, Leon giving you a shrug.
“Leon! Look out!” You yelled, firing your gun at the man who rose an axe towards your partner. You shot at his head multiple times, before he finally fell to the ground. Noises were heard outside, and Leon took it upon himself to look out through the window. You let out a breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding, before looking out the window with Leon and seeing a lot more people.
“Shit,” Leon muttered, making sure his gun was loaded before pushing you to go towards the stairs.
“I know what I’m doing, Kennedy,” you sassed, going up the stairs quickly with him following behind. He let out a huff, grabbing a few things of ammo that he found in drawers and handing it to you. You put them into your bag, shaking your head as you found some herbs. The sound of a door breaking down was heard downstairs, which caused your eyes to widen.
“There!” You called out, pointing at the window.
“Good eye,” Leon replied, going to jump out. You bit at your lip, hearing the villagers walking around downstairs before you eventually jumped down yourself, being caught by Leon. You let out a cough, Leon having a shit eating grin on his face before you pulled your gun out and shot 3 villagers behind him.
The blonde placed you back down on the ground, starting to run farther away from the village people. You sighed quietly to yourself, following behind as per usual. You knew something was up here, not normal, and just like Raccoon City.
You put Raccoon City in the back of your mind as Hunnigan called Leon, and you stood to the side listening through your ear piece. You kicked at some rocks, thinking about your son and what he could be doing at home. A huff left Leon’s mouth, ending the call with Hunnigan.
“Ashley is around here somewhere,” Leon spoke out, putting an end to your thoughts. You looked over at him, giving him a nod.
“No shit.”
“Hey, I know you have something going on, but that attitude of your’s needs to leave,” Leon snapped, running a hand through his hair. You raised an eyebrow.
“MY attitude? I am so sorry that I had to leave my nine year old son behind to go on a mission to find the President’s dumbass daughter!” You exclaimed, to which he rolled his eyes. The stress the two of you had from your recent encounters was prominent in this conversation, and you put your hands up slightly.
“You know what. You’re right. Sorry for making you upset, Kennedy,” You spoke sarcastically, walking away from the other. Leon’s jaw clenched, following behind you and grabbing your wrist, turning you to face him.
“Stop being a brat.”
“You’re being the brat,” You seethed, shaking his grip off of you as you head towards another cabin. Leon sighed, knowing he messed up by snapping at you. The two of you trekked to the cabin ahead, opening the door and looking around.
“Here,” you spoke, going to move something out of the way of a doorway. Leon gave a nod, going into a room and hearing commotion in the wardrobe in the corner. You followed after grabbing things in the other room, seeing Leon opening the wardrobe door.
All of a sudden, you felt immense pressure in your head and the whole world went black.
-----------
The smell of rotting walls is what awoke you. Pain shot through your head, wrists bound behind you. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing two men in front of you. The one Leon was tied up to was unfamiliar, but he must’ve been in that wardrobe Leon opened up.
“Leon?” You called out. He seemed to have been in the middle of a conversation with the man he was tied up to, showing him the picture of Ashley.
“Y/n, are you alright?” Leon asked, to which you gave a slight nod. Luis looked over to you.
“Ah, senorita, they must’ve hit you hard,” he spoke out, giving a sympathetic smile. You gave a nod again, not feeling up to talking as the pain in your head was searing. Leon sighed to himself, putting the photo of Ashley back into his pocket. You must’ve missed a bit of their conversation.
Loud footsteps were heard outside, which caused you to snap your head up. You saw a giant man walk in. Your eyes felt a bit heavy, desperately trying to keep them open before you slipped off into another slumber.
Snapping awake, you felt something warm pressed against your right arm. Your eyes were wide, sweat sticking to your skin as you looked up at the person who held you. Leon.
You still felt angry at him, but you decided to put that in the back of your head. He looked down at you, hearing your ragged breathing.
“Hey, sleepy head. I have been carrying you around for what feels like ages,” he murmured, placing you back down again. You sighed, rubbing the back of your head.
“I’m sorry… I just feel so sick,” you muttered, before tears started to stain your cheeks. You were tired, and you didn’t know why. And you felt out of touch with reality. Leon’s concern grew for you.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing your back. You shook as you cried, falling to your knees.
Panic rose in you, thinking about how you woke up some when you were held captive and something being put into your neck. You immediately looked up at Leon.
“They put something in me,” you expressed, starting to feel yourself become sick.
“Y/n, I am sure you’re fine-”
“Fine?! How can I be fine?! What if I turn into one of them?!” You screamed at him, covering your face afterwards. You thought about Adrian, and how he would potentially have to grow up without his mommy. He was already growing up without a father figure, you couldn’t imagine having him lose you now. You looked down, opening your locket as your breathing was labored. You couldn’t stop the panic, but you could calm down your tears. The adrenaline was already pumping hard through your veins, as you shakily touched the face of your son, and glanced towards the face of your late boyfriend.
“Who is that?” Leon asked, looking down at the locket. You glanced up, his face had softened.
“My late boyfriend… he… he turned into one of those monsters in Raccoon City… right in front of me and Adrian,” you mumbled, closing it. Leon frowned, helping you up from the ground. You composed yourself quickly, starting to go the way you assumed you were to go.
-------------
The plane you were in was whirring loudly, about to take off. You were currently sitting in front of Ashley Graham and the President, with Leon right beside you. Your mission was a success, but the trauma that both you and Leon had experienced on the way was enough to make you never want to work for the government again. But, this is all you had.
The President got up from his seat, walking towards the front of the plane. You looked at Ashley, who was currently looking at Leon in a loving way. A pit formed in your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was jealousy. You looked out the window, seeing the ocean, and clouds… and more ocean.
Unbeknownst to you, but known to Ashley, Leon was looking at you the same way Ashley was looking at him. He didn’t know why, but he felt even more attracted to you after the events you two had endured. You knew that it would be a few days until you could see your son, since you have to give information to your agency and other government officials, but at the end of the day, your son was now your number one priority again.
“Why her?” Ashley spoke out, her eyes going wide as both you and Leon looked at her. Her face flushed to a bright red color, before she excused herself, going to wherever her father was.
“What was that for?” You mumbled, playing with your hands. You looked over at Leon, smiling a bit as you felt your heart swell up.
“I don’t know… but at least she is gone, her staring was getting annoying,” Leon chuckled, which caused you to giggle. You bit at your lip, seeing his hand on the armrest. You moved your smaller one to lay on top of it, your fingers intertwining.
“Thank you,” You whispered, “for getting me back safe.”
“I made a promise, didn’t I? How about we celebrate tonight, everything on me,” Leon said smugly, which caused you to blush.
“Yeah, yeah lover-boy… I’ll give you a chance,” You said with a grin, looking back out the window and taking your hand away from his. You missed the warmth, but you didn’t want to deal with Ashley’s whining.
Maybe staying away from home for a few more days wouldn’t be so bad...
tag list:
@cicatraize
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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walkerismychoice · 3 years
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Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36
Book: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia
Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened
Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.
A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish.  My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.
Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14
Word Count: 2861
Queen of My Heart Chapter Index
“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.
"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.
Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."
"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.
Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."
 "How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."
Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"
"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."
"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."
Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"
"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."
Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."
"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."
Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."
Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."
-----
“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.
“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.
Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”
"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."
"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.
Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."
Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.
Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"
Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.
But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.
Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.
Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"
"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."
"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"
"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.
"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."
"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.
"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."
Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."
Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.
Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."
Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.
Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.
She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.
Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.
Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."
"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.
"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."
Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.
As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”
Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”
Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”
Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”
“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.
 “I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.
“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”
Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.
“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.
“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.
Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”
Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”
-----
Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.
Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”
“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”
Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.
Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.
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paper-n-ashes · 3 years
Text
The Late Shift
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Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader
Words: 2k
Warnings/Tags: There’s actually none (I hope). I know. I’m surprised too.
Authors Note: This is so dumb. I’m aware. Look, I’ve been dealing with a horrendous writers block and shattered confidence and I made Paul Sevier gifs to ease my pain. It turned into this. I just wanted to try something a little cute and fluffy to get back into the swing of things. So... here it is.
*
It was going to be a long night.
Stuck on the Wednesday evening shift for the third time this month, you mindlessly fiddled with the pen in your hand. Twirling it between your fingers, your mind drifted away from the present moment, wondering why your boss seemed to dislike you so much to keep you here past 6pm in the middle of the week. He’d always been adamant this was prime selling time for this boutique suit store, with corporate clients needing to do their shopping outside of normal business hours.
You, however, knew keeping this place open was senseless, barely seeing more than a few unenthusiastic customers in these agonizingly slow stretches. Working on commission also made you all the more bitter about being paid minimum wage to stand behind a counter and doodle sketches of imaginary clients dressed in the outfits you personally tailored. This isn’t where you thought a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design would take you, that’s for sure.
“H-hello,” you heard a deep voice quietly greet you, startling you into focus. “Are you busy? I… think I need a little help.”
Eyes flickering up from the notepad, you were sure your pupils blew wide at the sight of the man in front of you. Standing at an imposingly large height, his hair a severely murky shade of black, with honeyed irises shining brightly behind delicate spectacles.
A human personification of tall, dark and handsome. Well, except for the clothes.
The stranger wore the layered combination of a grey tweed jacket and argyle patterned sweater, arranged over a particularly heinous, mustard-coloured button up. While the ensemble made you internally cringe, it gave him an air of intelligence, like the kind that hangs around stuffy, old college professors who have more academic accolades than you have fingers and toes.
“Me?” you coughed out, knowing full well you were the only other person in this tiny little shop. “Uh, yeah. I mean- No, no I’m not busy. What is it you need help with?” Even when you stood, the man towered above you, making you silently begin to calculate the high-numbered measurements you’d need to fit him in something.
“I have an important meeting scheduled for Friday. You know, the type you need to wear a suit to?” Evidently the thought of it made him nervous, as you noticed his cheek twitch slightly, his eyes scanning momentarily at the garments filling the space. “I’m… uh… not so great with clothes.”
Clearly, you chuckled inside your head, holding the word from your tongue. “You want me to pick out something for you?”
He took a defeated breath, his mouth twisting into an awkward yet wonderfully endearing smile. “Would you mind? Only if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble!” you burst, maybe a little too excitedly. “It’s my job!” Bounding out from behind the counter you’d been imprisoned by, you moved directly to the section of classic navy business suits. Slim line. Something to accentuate his well-built frame, rather than hide it away. You had to pause, swivelling back around to the dumbfounded man. “Is price an issue… uh…?”
“Paul,” he answered for you, slowly moving to where you stood. “And… I suppose not. Probably should spend the money on something that will last. If you think it’s a good idea.”
Oh thank god, you mused without showing the relief on your face. He’s not some rich asshole trying to flash his cash. “A good suit can last you five years, if you treat it right.” Your hand reached over to graze one of the deepened blue sleeves of a jacket at your left. “And a classic colour will never go out of style.”
Paul let out an embarrassed chuckle. “I think you’ve already noticed how lacking in style I am…” He glanced to your nametag, murmuring your name with a goofy smirk curling his lips. You’d never seen a grown man, especially not one of this stature, appear so adorable. It was horribly distracting.
“I’m sure you have expertise in other areas,” you stumbled, realizing only when the words came out how offensive they might seem. Yet Paul conceded to your comment, his rumbling laugh making your chest feel tight.
“Debatable,” he shrugged. “I’m just glad I found some qualified personnel to help me in this instance.”
Oh boy. Humble and charming? You were in so much trouble. Surely someone as sweet as this had another waiting for them at home. “I’m sure your partner could help you pick out something nice too.”
“Not an option in my case.”
Shit. Single too. You were truly fucked.
You turned, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat by focusing on finding an outfit that would contain his longer limbs. Plucking out a matching jacket and trouser set, with an ivory, collared button-up, you offered them to Paul, his features having melted into a sweetened look of intrigue. “Go and try these on. There’s a changeroom just behind the counter. See how they feel, and we can go from there.”
He nodded, taking the pieces with both of his large hands and shuffling away to where you’d pointed to. No sooner than the latch had locked were you dashing to where your phone was sitting at the register, flitting out a rushed text message to your favourite co-worker.
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There was rustling you heard emanating from the changeroom stall, doing your best to ignore the urge of picturing Paul, a man you’d met only minutes ago, gradually slipping off his clothes to reveal the toned muscles underneath. You grimaced at yourself, shaking your head to banish the imaginations. God this was unprofessional.
Finally, a response lit up on your phone screen.
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You laughed softly through your nose, about to type a reply when you heard the lock click open again. The breath in your lungs was stuck as Paul made his way out, the expensive textiles draping over his burly frame in a way that made your whole body tense.
He rustled a hand through his hair, looking up to you while fidgeting with the starchy material stretched over his chest. “Does it look okay?”
After all these years working this job, the enticing novelty of attractive men in well-fitted suits had slowly worn off, especially when most of them treated you with about as much respect as the used gum they spit out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, all those preconceived notions were gone. On Paul, this ensemble instantly became the most captivating thing in the entire universe.
The inside of your mouth flooded with saliva, having to swallow hard before speaking again. “Great… it looks… great.” You did your best to conceal a settling exhale. “What do you think? How does it feel?”
Paul shifted to look at his reflection in the mirror, pupils trailing up and down, flexing his limbs in an attempt to get a proper impression of the new apparel. “It feels really good. Makes me look… sophisticated.” He turned to you, his expression unsure. “Right?”
Your smile was sparkling, nodding to his question. There was a small amount of work to do, noting how in your effort to make sure everything complemented his physique, you’d oversized him. The waistline of the jacket needed to be taken in, the shoulder lines sitting slightly off, and the trouser length needing to be taken up slightly. “A couple of adjustments and it’ll be perfect.”
“You mean taking it to be tailored?”
“No need.” You pulled out the wheel of berry pins from your pocket, kneeling down on the floor next to Paul’s feet. “All our tailoring is included in the price. Done completely in house.” You began to fold the bottom edge of his pants, pinning it to an adequate length. “I can have it ready for you tomorrow, all ready for your Friday meeting.”
“You do all the tailoring yourself?” Paul asked as you slinked another pin through the fabric.
“Sure do,” you chirped, moving onto the other leg. “3 years at a design school taught me a few things about cutting and sewing.” With the hemlines in place, you straightened in front of him, plucking out a roll of measuring tape from your other pocket. “I just… need to take a few measurements to properly alter the jacket.”
His cheek twitched, the line of his jaw seeming somewhat strained. “Sure. F-fine. Do what you gotta do."
You went with determining his arm length first, feeling out the boney point of his shoulder and striping the lined tape all the way down to his wrist. Then, after taking a deep inhale, you curled your arms around his hips, focusing hard on the little black numbers to ignore the fact Paul’s breath had started to skate over your skin with this close proximity. It was when you were lining up the thickened stripes indicating his chest circumference that you made the mistake of peering up, finding his alluring stare fully concentrated on you.
There was a moment. A spark to waiting kindling. Where impulse could have led you to do a dangerous thing. You’d never been the hasty type, never acted without considerable thought. Usually so shy and composed, never making the first move. Although right now, you could scarcely hold yourself back, desperate to know the sensation of Paul’s lips, how they’d move over yours, what they tasted like.
No. This was so inappropriate.
The compulsion was about to wither away when you felt a hand skim up your waist, the lightened touch shooting a thrill over your skin.
“Excuse me,” a gruff voice called from your side. “How much are these dress socks?”
You immediately stepped back, smacked into reality again. “$12.99. Exactly what it says on the box.”
The older gentlemen scrutinized the packaging, lids narrowed until he finally saw the numbers plastered at the border. “Oh, right. Eh, a little expensive for my taste. Thanks anyway.”
Flustered, you began to coil the measuring tape into its resting spiral, forcefully glaring at the floor. “I’m all done. You can get dressed into your own clothes now.”
In your periphery you saw Paul regarding you with a gentle nod, walking back into the changeroom without another word. Every part of you wanted to sink beneath the wooden floorboards, so horrendously embarrassed you could feel a smoldering heat prickle at your cheeks. Only to relieve some of the nervous energy, you ran to your phone.
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Again, Paul was exiting out of the stall just as you were going to submit your reply, placing the neatly arranged garments over the counter. It was difficult to look directly at him, having to summon all remaining shards of your courage to drift your eyes up to his face. “Was there anything else you needed?”
His mouth parted, only to quickly snap shut, scratching at his hairline in the seconds it took for him to give you a response. “No. Nothing else. Unless there’s something more you think I need.”
You shook your head, wishing you could give another answer just to keep him here. “You’re all set.” The full price of his items flashed on the monitor in front of you, spouting it to him as your fingers flicked across the keyboard to finalize the purchase, with a personal discount that wouldn’t show on the receipt.
“When should I come by to pick it up?” he queried, passing you his credit card. “Oh, but there’s no pressure. Whenever you have the time is just fine.”
An idea flared. “If you give me your number, I can text you when it’s ready.”
“That works for me.”
Erasing all evidence of the conversation you’d been having, you brought up the number pad, handing your phone over. Paul swiftly typed in his details before placing it back in your palm. ‘Paul the Suit Guy’ the contact read, unable to stifle your laugh.  
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His eager expression made your heart quiver through a beat.
“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll see you then.”
Paul waved his hand in an awkward flourish to signal his goodbye, eventually moving far enough from your vision for you to finally take a full, relaxed breath. In a dazed hurry, you keyed in your returning message to your co-worker.
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It was the precise moment your thumb had pressed into the ‘Send’ button that you realised your recipient wasn’t the one you’d intended.
You’d sent this message straight to Paul.
Fuck. Oh fuck. This was bad.
While you were scrambling to formulate a believable excuse, a new message popped up onto the screen.
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Tags for my lovelies who might tolerate this nonsense: @tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @blackberries45 @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynzandtonic @beskarbabs​
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nouvelis · 2 years
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GET TO KNOW MEME 
— BAEK KYUNGSOO / MAIN VERSE
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APPEARANCE
I AM 5'7" OR TALLER
i wear glasses ( only when he reads manhwa? usually he’s wearing contacts! )
I HAVE AT LEAST ONE TATTOO
I HAVE AT LEAST ONE PIERCING
i have blonde hair
I HAVE BROWN EYES
I HAVE SHORT HAIR
MY ABS ARE AT LEAST SOMEWHAT DEFINED ( very... heh )
i have or have had braces
PERSONALITY
I LOVE MEETING NEW PEOPLE
PEOPLE TELL ME THAT I’M FUNNY
helping others with their problems is a big priority for me
I ENJOY PHYSICAL CHALLENGES
i enjoy mental challenges
I’M “PLAYFULLY” RUDE WITH PEOPLE I KNOW WELL
I STARTED SAYING SOMETHING IRONICALLY NOW I CAN’T STOP SAYING IT
THERE IS SOMETHING I WOULD CHANGE ABOUT MY PERSONALITY
ABILITY
I CAN SING WELL
i can play an instrument
I CAN DO OVER 30 PUSH-UPS WITHOUT STOPPING
I’M A FAST RUNNER
i can draw well
I HAVE A GOOD MEMORY
I’M GOOD AT DOING MATH IN MY HEAD
I CAN HOLD MY BREATH UNDERWATER FOR OVER A MINUTE
I HAVE BEATEN AT LEAST 2 PEOPLE IN ARM WRESTLING
i know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch
I KNOW HOW TO THROW A PROPER PUNCH
HOBBIES
I ENJOY PLAYING SPORTS
I WAS ON A SPORTS TEAM AT MY SCHOOL OR SOMEWHERE ELSE
i’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else
i have learned a new song in the past week
I WORK OUT AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK
i’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months
I HAVE DRAWN SOMETHING IN THE PAST MONTH
i enjoy writing
fandoms are my #1 passion
I DO OR HAVE DONE MARTIAL ARTS
EXPERIENCES
I HAVE HAD MY FIRST KISS
I HAVE HAD ALCOHOL
I HAVE SCORED THE WINNING GOAL IN A SPORTS GAME
I HAVE WATCHED AN ENTIRE SEASON OF A TV SHOW IN ONE SITTING
I HAVE BEEN AT AN OVERNIGHT EVENT
I HAVE BEEN IN A TAXI
I HAVE BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL OR ER IN THE PAST YEAR ( coughs )
i have beaten a video game in one day
I HAVE VISITED ANOTHER COUNTRY
I HAVE BEEN TO ONE OF MY FAVOURITE BAND’S CONCERTS
RELATIONSHIPS
I’M IN A RELATIONSHIP
i have a crush on a celebrity
i have a crush on someone i know
I HAVE BEEN IN AT LEAST 3 RELATIONSHIPS
i have never been in a relationship
I HAVE ASKED SOMEONE OUT OR ADMITTED MY FEELINGS TO THEM
i get crushes easily ( ... he used to when he’s younger, i think! )
I HAVE HAD A CRUSH ON SOMEONE FOR OVER A YEAR
I HAVE BEEN IN A RELATIONSHIP FOR AT LEAST A YEAR
I HAVE HAD FEELINGS FOR A FRIEND
MY LIFE
I HAVE AT LEAST ONE PERSON I CONSIDER A “BEST FRIEND”
i live close to my school
my parents are still together
i have at least one sibling
i live in the united states
there is snow right now where i live
I HAVE HUNG OUT WITH A FRIEND IN THE PAST MONTH
I HAVE A SMARTPHONE
i have at least 15 cd’s
i share my room with someone
RANDOM SHIT
i have breakdanced
I KNOW A PERSON NAMED JAMIE
I HAVE HAD A TEACHER WITH A LAST NAME THAT’S HARD TO PRONOUNCE
I HAVE DYED MY HAIR
i’m listening to one song on repeat right now
I HAVE PUNCHED SOMEONE IN THE PAST WEEK
I KNOW SOMEONE WHO HAS GONE TO JAIL
I HAVE BROKEN A BONE
i have eaten a waffle today
i know what i want to do with my life
I SPEAK AT LEAST 2 LANGUAGES
I HAVE MADE A NEW FRIEND IN THE PAST YEAR
tagged by: @f8less / @mythvoiced ( thank you friends! )
tagging: @protcsts / @solisocasum / @cvvalier / @fatewoven​ / @itsacriime​
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morosemagick · 3 years
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On Your Lips, Like a Prayer | Sihtric x Reader One Shot
Warning: References to Suicide, Minor Character Death
Words: 4449
Tagged:
@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @obipoelover @thebohemianpenguin @ivarinleatherpants
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You remember falling.
Through the sky. Into a river. Drowning. They could’ve been dreams or your imagination or may you’re hell because when you wake up you don’t recognize the place you’ve found yourself in. The first thing you try to do when you wake is reach for your phone... until you remember you didn’t have it. What you had done, you had done with nothing on you. You didn’t want to be found or recognized. The plan was to scrub yourself from the pages of history. Yet from what you are told by the man and his daughter; who found you in the river half dead, it seems you did the far opposite.
Instead of erasing yourself from history, you’ve fallen through it.
And that was six months ago.
They believe you to have amnesia from the accident, but you remember every detail of what happened. It’s the ninth century from what you gathered. From what you remember from taking history in school, King Alfred the Great is the King of Wessex, but you are in Mercia. Who is ruled by Lord Ceowolf? You’re unsure. Everything you’ve known is gone or rather has yet to be. You have no idea how you’ve gotten here and you want out. So in a moment of foolishness, you try to redo what you did to send yourself back but instead you wind up stuck in their beds again for a month with a broken leg. It’s hard to run after you do that, and now you know without a doubt in your mind that you’re stuck. You cry about it for weeks, and the family who found you doesn’t understand why. You can’t tell anyone, because you’re certain they’ll set you on fire if you tell them.
Because you… you are from the future.
————————————<3—————————————
You’ve been here for a year now. Osmund and his daughter, Mildryd, are kind and loving people. They treat you like family, with love and respect. This place becomes your home and they teach you all the skills you’d need to survive these times. You learned about farming, rank etiquette, and all other manners you would need to blend into your surroundings. Soon enough, you embraced this world as your own. Not that you had a choice because every day it became more clear that this was not a dream and you were indeed stuck here.
Also, you had no desire to repeat what you did to get here in the first place… again.
“Lynne? Lynne, where are you?” You can hear Osmund call out to you. Lynne was what they called you here. It meant waterfall, from what you understood.
Which made sense, because that’s where they found you... At the bottom of a waterfall.
You come out from the stables, where you’ve just finished brushing the horses with a smile on your face, “Right here, Osmund. Everything alright?”
“I sent Mildryd into town to get grain but I didn’t realize she didn’t bring water in for the goats,” He tells you as he wipes the sweat from his face with a rag, “I hate to pass on her chores, but you know my daughter-”
“She’ll be flirting with the trader for a while,” You chuckle. Mildryd fancied the boy a lot and hopes he’d ask her father for her hand in marriage soon. She was young and full of life, the opposite of you if you were honest with yourself. You envied her spirit, “I’ll go to the river.”
“Thank you, Lynne,” The older man smiled, “You’re an angel.”
You only smile as a response. They show you so much love and part of you feels like you don't deserve it. Still, you grab your bucks and head down to the river, which is quite a walk away, to fetch some water as requested. It's beautiful here, and perhaps taking a moment to stand there and admire its beauty will be one of the moments you will grow to regret for the rest of your life because by the time you turn back to return to the farm you can see smoke.
You drop both buckets to the ground and run as fast as your post-broken leg body can take you, but you're too late.
A sob breaks from your lips as you walk through the ruins of Osmund's home. His body lays blood and lifeless on the floor, the sword he carries still in its sheath. You take the weapon from him, belt and all, and tie it around your waist. Leaving the house, you head into the rest of the small village you call yours in search of the man's daughter.
The rest of the village is no better than Osmund's home. Everyone is dead, from what you can tell, and your expectations for finding Mildryd are lowering by the second.
When you find her, she's holding on to her final breath, and her body covered by the trader she loved so much.
"Mildryd," You call to her with tears in her eyes, "Mildryd… who did this to you?"
"It… it was the Danes," She coughs and blood comes up, tears flowing down her cheeks, "Is.. my father-"
She dies before she can finish the sentence, and you sob over her dead body.
The time you get to mourn is cut short by a voice calling out from behind you, “Lord! A survivor!”
From the accent in his voice, you can tell he must be a Dane, and you ready yourself to face with your hand on the hilt of your sword. It’s heavy, and you haven’t had much practice but the one thing you have plenty of right now is rage. Rising to your feet, you pull out your sword and swing it without care as you turn around but the Dane behind you is quicker. He bobs and weaves his upper half to avoid your aimless swings and pulls out a blade of his own.
It does not take him long to disarm you, your sword dropping to the ground with a clang.
“Just kill me already,” You tell him as you lower your eyes to the ground, trying not to cry in front of him, “Please! Get on with it-”
“I don’t desire to kill you, Lady,” The Dane tells you, his voice softer than anticipated, and you open your eyes to see him put his sword away. He picks up your sword, and then lends out a hand to help you to your feet, “I am sorry to have startled you.”
You are hesitant to take his hand, but you do so anyway.
It’s his eyes; one blue and the other brown, they are mesmerizing and all but command you to trust him.
“Sihtric?” Another man calls out to him, this one also dressed like a Dane but something about him looks Saxon… like the others you’ve grown to know, “Who is this?”
The one you trust, Sihtric, turns to face you and they stare for a moment as they await your name, “I am-” You almost use your real name, but you stop yourself and continue again. Hoping they don’t notice, “I am Lynne, Lord.”
“This is your village?” He asks you.
“Was,” You replied looking back at Mildryd’s dead body behind you, “They killed my family…”
“Did you see the raiders who attacked this place?” The man asked and you shook your head no.
“My… my sister, she told me it was the Danes,” You glance between the two men, watching for their reactions, “That was all she said before she died.”
“Lord?” Another voice calls out, this one with an Irish accent, and from the side, another man appears followed by one much taller than he is, “There is no one else. If they had survivors, they must have taken them.”
The Lord sighs, and puts away his weapon, “Do you have somewhere to go, Lynne? Family somewhere else in Mercia, perhaps?”
You look between the men who surround you and shake your head no, “This was my only family, Lord. I have no one.”
“We can take her with us to Coccham, Uhtred,” The Irishman starts to say, but you are quick to jump in.
“I am not a slave!” You snap as you reach for your sword, forgetting you no longer have it.
“Nor do we wish you to be, Lady,” The one named Uhtred replies, “You will be safe in Coccham, should you choose to follow us. I am the Ealdorman there, we shall find someone to take you in.”
You nod okay, knowing you don’t have any other choice, “Thank you.”
Uhtred and his men start to walk away, and when you step to follow them your bad leg gives in and you start to fall. Luckily, Sihtric is there to catch you.
“Are you hurt, Lady?” He asks you as you wince.
He helps you straighten yourself upright, and you take a deep breath, “I broke it, six months ago,” You explain to Sihtric as he tries to help you walk, “It still feels weak some days. Just… give me a moment.”
“Should I carry you?” He asks and you blush as you furiously shake your head no.
“No, no,” You chuckle shyly as you attempt to walk again, “I can walk. I just need to go slow.”
Sihtric smiles lightly, and it brings you peace, “We’ll go your speed then.”
You nod okay, and together you walk slowly out of the village that was once your home.
————————————<3—————————————
Lord Uhtred finds you work as a stable hand in Coccham. The owners of the stable is an older couple whose children have moved away with their own families, and they are more than pleased to let you stay with them. After a few months of being in Coccham, you find yourself growing to like the place. It’s a booming town, and the people who live here all seem to be grateful for their half Dane half Saxon Lord for keeping them safe and prospering. About six months into living here, Lord Uhtred puts you personally in charge of his horse, as well as the horses of the rest of his men. The old couple tells you it’s a privilege for the Ealdorman to hold you in such regard.
You wonder why they seem to like you so much.
When you aren’t working you find yourself in the company of Lord Uthred’s men. There is Finan, his cheeky, Irish right-hand man. He’s a flirt and a tease, but you find him harmless and kind. Then their Clapa, the large bear-like Dane. He’s quiet but courteous. Last, but certainly not least, there is Sihtric. You never expected to like him as much as you do, but he makes you laugh and smile and feel like maybe you survived that fall for a reason. He visits you frequently at the stables and he tells you it’s to make sure you aren’t overworking your leg.
Part of you wonders if there is an ulterior motive for his visits.
Not that he needs one to visit you. You enjoy Sihtric’s visits probably much more than he did. So part of you finds it ironic when those around you weren’t fond of you spending so much time with a Dane. Their Lord was a Dane, too, after all.
“That Dane boy,” The stable owner, Cedric, started to say one day, “Does he bother you?”
You glance his way as you brush Lord Uhtred’s horse, readying all his warriors’ horses for their departure, “Not at all,” You tell Cedric, “Sihtric is kind.”
“You are of marriage age, Lynne,” Cedric tells you as he brings over a saddle for the horse, “Perhaps we should help find you a husband. I know some young eligible men. Hard workers,” he starts to say, and you know what’s about to come out of his mouth next before he can even say it, “Good Christians.”
“I’m not looking for a husband,” You tell him with frustration as you take the saddle from his hands and place it on top of Uhtred’s horse.
“My wife and I are only getting older, Lynne,” The old man tells you, and you keep your eyes away to prevent yourself from making a face, “It is not good for a Lady of your age to be unwed. This is your prime. You should be having children, starting a family.”
Part of you is ready to tell the old man off, but before you can say anything a familiar voice interrupts the conversation, “Cedric, Lynne! How are our horses?”
“Lord Uhtred,” Cedric smiles, and you can’t help but hate how hypocritical he is, “They are almost ready, Lynne ready the other saddles please.”
You nod at the two men and make yourself scarce as you go to prep the other horse. Your first stop is to Finan’s horse; because you know the mare can be fickle some days, and as you reach down to pick her saddle, you don’t see Finan and Sihtric sneak up behind you.
“Lynne!” Finan all but shouts, giving you a fright and making you drop the saddle to the floor.
“I swear to God, Finan, one would think you are the heathen and not Sihtric,” You scold with your hand over your heart as the two men laugh.
“We are only teasing, Lynne, I swear,” Finan tells you as he picks up the saddle you’ve dropped.
Sihtric leans up against a post and nudges you with his elbow, “Cedric does not push you too much, does he?”
“No, he does not,” You tell Sihtric as you go to ready his horse, but he stops you, carefully taking the saddle from your hands, “I do not need your help, Sihtric.”
“I want to help,” He tells you with a smile, and you can’t help but smile wider.
“She says she doesn’t need your help, Sihtric,” Finan teases from close by, and you both blush, momentarily forgetting he was there, “Hate to ruin the moment, but we need to get goin’.”
“Where are you riding for?” You ask them as you stand back and let the men finish readying their own horses.
“Mercia,” Sihtric tells you and a small part of you feels anxious, “Dane’s have taken Lundene."
“And King Alfred has decided he does need Uhtred, after all,” Finan chuckles and Sihtric smirks, but both of their calm demeanors don’t make you feel any better, “Don’t you worry, Lynne, we’ll be home before you know it.”
Finan passes by, rubbing your shoulder as he goes, and then leaves you alone with Sihtric. You sigh, folding your arms over your chest, “Be careful out there, okay?”
Sihtric chuckles as he takes a step closer to you, “Will you pray to your God for my return?”
“You know I don’t pray,” You lie with a smirk. You pray every single time Uhtred and his warriors leave, and you do so every night till they return. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a thin gold cross on a blue, beaded string. It’s the only thing you own, from before, and you hand it to Sihtric with a weak smile on your face, “But just in case.”
He takes it from your hand so slow, the feeling of his fingertips lingering even after they are gone, “I will take good care of it.” Sihtric pulls you closer by the back of your head and kisses your temple as he moves around you.
Your cheeks stay a rosy color even long after he is gone.
————————————<3—————————————
They are back sooner than expected.
Or at least, that is what you hear when the crowd gathers to greet their returning warriors. You overhear the Lady of Coccham, Uhtred’s wife Gisela, make mention of returning too quickly for men holding a city under siege. Lord Uhtred is the first to walk through Coccham’s gates, looking surprisingly clean for a man coming from war, then Finan comes in close behind him… and then-
Wait.
You feel your heart pick up its pace when you realize Sihtric is not with them and for a moment you find it hard to breathe. As the crowd lets its lord through, and Uhtred and his men reach the stables, you rush over as fast as your legs can take you to meet them. You feel your bad leg ready to give up as you reach the stables, but this time Finan is there to catch you.
“Slow down, Lynne, you nearly killed yourself,” Finan tells you as he holds you steady with one hand.
“Where...,” You start speaking but you can't, instead you’re huffing and puffing trying to catch your breath, “Where is Sihtric?”
Finan sighs, wiping at his mouth with his free hand, “You’re not gonna be happy, Lynne.”
You try really hard not to cry as he explains to you what has happened at Lundene and how the King’s daughter has been possibly taken as prisoner. In fact, you do relatively well at holding it all in and keeping yourself together for most of his explanation. That is… until he gets to the part where Lord Uhtred has sent Sihtric and another warrior named Rypere to Beamfleot to spy, and you suddenly forget how to breathe again. You go to reach for your cross in your pocket until you remember you’ve given it to Sihtric for good luck and almost immediately you begin to cry.
“Lynne,” Finan puts his hand on your shoulder as you sob, covering your face with your hands, “Lynne, he’s coming home… okay? Sihtric is good at what he does. The best spy we have, and I know he’s got a good reason to come home in one piece.”
You shake your head okay, and furiously wipe away all your tears away the best you can, “How long do you think he’ll be gone?”
“I cannot say for certain,” Finan shrugs, “But he is coming home, I promise.”
Finan’s words only give you some reassurance and you spend the next few days feeling absolutely miserable. You continue on with your workdays with the best fake smile you can muster, and at night you find yourself at Church. Usually, you pray in your room, partially because you feel like you aren’t really doing it right and you feel too embarrassed to pray in public. You weren’t a very religious person before, but now that you are here in this church, you pray to every God you can think of that Sihtric comes home safely.
“Lady?” A voice from behind you calls, and you jump to your feet in a moment of fear. You weren’t expecting anyone else to come to the Church that night, coming late enough in the night to certainly be alone for as long as you wish, “I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you.”
His words remind you of the first time you met Sihtric, and you can't help but smile.
“It’s okay, I’ve just been… jumpy, lately.” You tell him as you sit back down on the bench, “I haven’t lived in Coccham for long, but I know I don’t recognize your face.”
“Ah, yes,” His smile is kind as he joins you at the bench, “I am Osferth, Lady. May I join you?”
“Of course, Osferth,” You smile back the best you can, but you’re tired and it’s late so it’s hard to put on your usual fake face.
Osferth takes his seat next to you, making sure not to get too close, and keeps his eyes on the altar ahead of you, “What are we praying for?” He asks, glancing your way.
“My-” You paused, not knowing what to call him. Your friend didn’t sound like a good enough way to explain what he meant to you, and you definitely didn’t think of him as a brother. So you go with this, “My family. Someone very important to me has been sent away on a dangerous mission for Lord Uhtred.”
"If he is a warrior for Lord Uhtred, he must be very brave," he tells you, reassuringly
"Only a special kind of warrior is lucky enough to serve a Lord like Uhtred," You agree with him, "And I have been told Sihtric is good at what he does, but I can't help but worry."
"Has prayer helped?" Osferth asks you and you look his way with a chuckle.
"Not at all," You tell him, and you both laugh.
"Sometimes it is hard to have faith in something we don't see," Osferth tells you as he looks forward again, "I try to put my faith in people. Lord Uhtred is a good warrior. So are his men. Having Faith in them… it's much easier."
So that's what you. You put your Faith in Uhtred and all of his men that will do whatever it takes to bring each other home.
————————————<3—————————————
More time has passed.
Rypere eventually returned to Coccham, and with his arrival, Uhtred and his men rode for Winchester to bring his findings to the King. You hear that men are sent to Beamfleot to bargain for the Princesses return. They are gone for a long time, longer than you anticipated. The days that pass make you increasingly more anxious.
You don't want to say your faith in Uhtred and his warriors is wavering but… it hasn't been as strong as you hoped it to be.
Cedric and his wife have been pushing the marriage thing. They aren't your parents so they can't just sell you off, luckily for you, but it's gotten annoying just how many single men they've tried to introduce you to in the last month.
None of them are Sihtric, so you do not care.
You're in the Church again one night, and you've been there longer than you wanted due to your bad leg. It's been aching something fierce in the past few days, and you think maybe you have been overwhelming yourself. You can't help but smile at the idea of Sihtric yelling at you to take it easy, and just as quickly as the memory comes to you so do the tears that start to cloud your eyes.
"You lied to me, Lynne," That familiar voice you've been hearing in your head speaks out loud, and you gasp when you turn around to find Sihtric standing behind you, "You said you do not pray for me."
You chuckle as the tears fall from your face and your lips curl up into a smile, "You're all I pray for." It stings to stand, but you push through the pain anyway and rush to greet him.
Sihtric catches you as you jump into his arms, and the two of you stumble back until he falls to the floor with you in his arms, "You need to be more careful," He smirks as he moves a hand to your cheek, "What would the people say if they see us in the church like this?"
"To hell with people," You laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Sihtrics' free hand pulls your body closer as you sit there on the floor of the church, all but devouring each other with each kiss.
"Let me carry you home," Sihtric tells you when he breaks the kiss, and you nod okay. He moves to stand, taking you in his arms as he rises. Making sure to be careful with your bed leg.
Being like this makes you feel so safe. So loved.
You giggle and kiss his neck as he carries you back to his house, and whispers things in your ear that send shivers down your spine all the way back to his house. Your sure people saw him carry you, and they are more than likely to gossip about you but you don't care.
You've never felt more alive than you do right now.
Sihtric lays you carefully in his bed, his lips reconnecting with yours as he hovers above you. He tastes sweet and your heart is racing in anticipation of what is going to happen next.
That is until you hear him moan out that name.
"Lynne," He starts to say as he breaks the kiss, "Lynne, I-"
"Wait!" You cut Sihtric off with a finger to his lips, "Before you say it, there is something else I've been lying about," Sihtric raises a brow and you take a deep breath, "My name is not Lynne."
You expect a poor reaction, but instead, Sihtric smirks, "That doesn't surprise me."
"Really?"
"Yes," He tells you as he places a kiss on your lips, "The day we met, you stuttered when you told Uhtred your name." You chuckle at the fact that he remembers that, and his smile is soft, "So tell me, what is the real name of the woman who has stolen my heart?"
Your smile is wide when you get to finally speak your real name out loud for the first time in almost two years, "My name is Y/N."
Sihtric smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, "Well, Y/N," another kiss, and then another, "It is nice to truly meet you," one more kiss, and then he leans up a bit and you can see the smirk on his face, "Is it too soon to say that I love you?"
You shake your head no as the tears come back to you, "Not at all."
"Good," Sihtric replies as he leans his forehead against yours, "I love you, Y/N."
Sihtric whispers those words for what feels like a hundred times that night. He whispers it as he strips you out of your clothes and as you remove his. It comes out as a moan when he slips himself inside of you, and it sounds like a prayer on his lips as he chants it in your ear as you reach your climax with your back arched and his lips on your neck. And it's the last thing you hear when Sihtric reminds you one more time before bed.
A few months later on the two year anniversary of you finding yourself here, on this page of history, Sihtric tells you he loves you again when the two of you return to the place where Osmund and Mildryd found you, and you tell him all about what brought you to this world. You can't help but feel this is where you were meant to be when Sihtric tells you he prayed for you, too.
For someone who could love him, more than he could himself.
It seems… you were exactly what the other was looking for.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
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