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plutoswritingplanet · 3 months

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

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napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 2 months

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So, I saw that you had no propaganda for the Iron Duke himself and thought that should be corrected, because I cannot let this man go unloved.

He is the ultimate sexyman. I don't really get that title or the requirements but I do know this man and he is the ultimate in Regency-era sexiness.

Field Marshal Sir Arthur Wellesley, First Duke of Wellington, whose full list of titles merits its own Wikipedia page, he had so many (including Prince of Waterloo of the Kingdom of the Netherlands), was so well known for his debonairness that he was often called "the Beau" or Beau Wellesley.

Our dear Duke with his eyes of "a brilliant light blue," is quite the underdog made good. The fourth son of an Anglo-Irish aristocratic family, he was a bit of a loner as a child, whose star was eclipsed by the academic success of his older and younger brothers. Yet he had a remarkable talent for the violin, which as we know from Mrs. Jefferson is quite a good quality for a man to have. As a young man he was considered extremely good humored and drew "much attention" from female society. The Napiers of Celbridge thought he was a "saucy stripling" and he was also considered quite mischievous. Yet he also had a rich inner life, reading and contemplating the great philosophers of the day.

Yes, we know about his military victories in the Peninsula (the position of Field Marshal of the British Army and the accompanying baton were created for him) and his success at Waterloo, but he was also both romantic and a ladies' man. (I could go on about the military success but that's not really what this is about, is it?)

Want the romantic side? He fell in love with Kitty Pakenham while a lowly aide-de-camp in Dublin but, with no real position or prospects, was laughed away by her brother when he sought to marry her. In a fit of pique he destroyed his violin and turned firmly toward progressing his career. Over a decade later, after he had made something of himself in India, he learned she hadn't married, supposedly because she was still pining for him. Reader, he married her, despite thinking she'd grown ugly, and got two children from her in less than two years. I'm not kidding, this man was virile. They married in April of 1806, their first son was born in February, 1807, and their second son was born in January 1808. Although he wasn't sexual faithful to her, Wellington wore an amulet she gave him for over twenty years, and was still wearing it when he sat with her on her deathbed. When she was surprised he still wore it, he told her if she'd just bothered to check in the last twenty years, she'd have found it. Despite surviving her by twenty years, the Duke never remarried.

Now, please don't think badly of him for the lack of sexual fidelity. It was the Georgian era. Sexual fidelity was not a part of marriage in high society. Men didn't sleep only with their wives and some wives could be quite happy with that (for one, it's much easier not to have one pregnancy after another when your husband is sleeping with someone else). Not that women weren't also sleeping around. Which brings me to one of Wellington's more... interesting conquests: Lady Caroline Lamb, wife of William Lamb (the future Second Viscount Melbourne and Prime Minister). Why do I know that name, you ask? The OG pixie manic dream girl, Caro's much more notably known for her affair with Lord Byron. After that particular bit of nonsense, she was in Brussels with the rest of the English aristocracy during the 100 Days/post Waterloo. She and the Duke supposedly slept together and she took his cloak away as a souvenir.

Who else did the Duke liaise with? Well, there were the usual flings with actresses and singers, such as La Grassini. As previously noted in another post on this tumblr, he was noted as a stronger, better lover than Napoleon by another of their mutual lovers. Wellington also was a client of Harriette Wilson. He visited her when she was in Paris after the Duke of Beaufort bought her off, though this was before Beaufort stopped paying her, prompting her to publish her memoirs. She canvassed her old lovers, including Wellington, to see if they'd pay her not to be in them. Wellington send her a note in return saying "Publish and be Damned." Something about his succinct dismissal of her is just so hot.

Oh, want a bit more of Wellington being a bad boy? In 1829, while Prime Minister, he got into a duel that still is commemorated almost two hundred years later. King's College, London, was set up while Wellington was also advocating for Catholic Emancipation and this led to Lord Winchilsea publicly insulting Wellington's honor to the point that the Duke (who'd never dueled before or supported dueling generally) called him out. They went to Battersea Fields and settled the matter with pistols. Wellington won and Winchelsea apologized. King's College celebrates "Duel Day" every March.

Even better, want to read about Elizabeth Bennet and the Duke being witty and falling in love? Complete with scenes of the Duke showing he knows what to do with his cannon? Then let me recommend the third variation of An Ever Fixed Mark, A Dalliance with the Duke. I dare you not to vote for him for all eternity with that portrayal in your head.

#extensive wellington propaganda

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dearly-dreaming · 2 years

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•𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒•

Title: As the soul dreams.

Paring: Dream of the Endless x reader.

Word count: 1,771.

Warnings: Patriarchal society (sexism, men having more power than women, mentions of women being “objects”) Arranged marriages.

Summary: Most had given up on finding their soulmates, allowing themselves to love but to always long for something more. Your family was the same and you knew that by the end of the night’s party you would be engaged to a man who wasn’t yours. It’s good thing the Endless have been invited, and among them, your soulmate.

Author’s Note: This is my first time posting on Tumblr and of course it’s a dream fic (He’s so beautiful, I had to) I hope you all enjoy :) And the gif isn’t mine, credits to whoever made it!

Part two here

•𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒•

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.

Soulmates.

Such a strange concept.

Knowing, that out there somewhere someone was the other half of your soul, someone the stars knew would be yours. But also knowing that the chance of meeting them was almost impossible. You would wait your entire life for them until death, when someone may finally take pity on you and give you the person you've been searching for.

Almost impossible

Therefore, most had given up. They hide the words marked on their skin, their soulmate's first words to them. They allow themselves to be married off, loving their partners, but always longing for something more.

Your family was the same: siblings married off to whoever would be most beneficial for your family name - or, more to the point, your father.

Oh, your father was one of the fourteenth century's greatest warlocks. Magic sparked in his veins, he knew of things the ordinary person would never believe and yet he still said that soulmates were entirely ridiculous.

Not you, though.

Yes, you knew you'd probably never meet whoever your soul called for. Yes, you were perfectly aware of the man your father had already agreed for you to marry. Yes, you knew you were being foolishly hopeful.

You sighed, the gentle wisping of the wind passing by with soft words as you sat in the gardens, hidden deep within the maze of overgrown trees and bushes, contemplating.

You clutched your arm closer to your body, and you felt it hum softly. The words written there wanting nothing more than to be paired with your first words, imprinted on your soulmate.

Your lips quirked up for a moment, contented fingers pulling up the sleeve of your dress, allowing you to gaze upon the most beautiful set of words you had ever seen.

"I have waited for you for so very long."

Heart warmed at the sight, skin shivering, soul fluttering, your fingers glided across the tender words of your soulmate.

And suddenly sadness crashed down upon you like a tidal wave. Soon, you'd be married to a man who wasn't yours, and your heart cracked.

"My Lady! We need to get you ready for tonight's party!" An old voice, called out, one you knew all too well.

Dread filled your stomach, your father claimed it was merely an event for him to learn more about the supernatural and further his influence and it was. But it was also an engagement party, your engagement party, where you couldn't say no to the man asking for your hand.

You shook your head.

"Mary!" You called and the woman who had been by your side your entire life appeared, her hair was greying, wrinkles sinking into her skin but her eyes were more alive than anyone's you'd ever seen.

You supposed that came with meeting your soulmate.

Mary was one of the lucky two.

Two people in your entire town, the population quickly nearing two thousand and yet she and her husband were the only soulmates. That certainly put things into perspective.

Her gaze slipped down to your arm, words peeking out from behind your sleeve, a pitying smile escaping her lips, "I'm sorry, dear."

You could already feel it, building in your soul, aching at your heart, before the night was over your tears would spill.

"Yes," You swallowed harshly but she had already caught the quiver in your voice, "So am I."

"I do not why you are so infatuated with this, sister."

And truly Dream did not.

His sister had come into his realm of the dreaming with a large smile and gleaming eyes. Immediately, he knew that she would try to drag him into something.

He was right, of course.

After courteous greetings, his dear sister pulled out a white scroll, stark against her dark skin, with a grin. It was an invitation, she had told him, to a mortal's party and she wanted him to join her.

Naturally, he shook his head and refused.

That, of course, led to their current conversation where they both knew she would pester him until he eventually agreed. They both knew he would agree but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and make it difficult.

He gripped his arm softly, calming himself.

Her brown eyes glimmered, "Because I think it'd help you understand humans if you interacted with them."

He rose a brow, "In case you have forgotten, dear sister, there is a man you made immortal by the name of Hog whom I meet once every century."

His sister huffed, nudging his shoulder with hers, golden neckless glinting, "Oh, please! Once every century! And even then, you two only talk for a few hours, and that's pushing it!"

She had a point.

He shook his head, he refused to give in just yet, "Why don't you ask Desire? They're much better suited for this. Besides, I am occupied with running my realm."

Death narrowed her eyes, "I think they can handle you being away for one night, Dream," Then, she tilted her head, gaze fixated on the hold he had on his arm, "And who knows, maybe your soulmate will be dancing among the crowds."

Dream froze.

He was aeons old, older, and he had long since given up on his soulmate. That's what he tried to believe. Whoever they were, they were most likely dead and buried, a bloodline of their own passing through the ages. His heart ached at the thought, soul whining because it knew how very wrong that was to think.

Saints, he had even taken lovers and yet...no matter what, his gaze always ended up on the words written on his arm.

Such peculiar and wonderous words.

"I am so sorry-- and you're...very beautiful."

He sighed.

His sister smiled victoriously.

They both knew she had won.

"Don't you look stunning!" Mary gasped from behind you.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, noting how Mary had taken extra care to make you look presentable. Can't have your future husband having second thoughts, can you?

Oh god.

Through your open window, you could hear the guests arriving. Witches and exorcists and sorcerers and fairies and so many others. You knew that somewhere in the lively crowd, he was there, Alexander Knight.

Naturally, he had come from a long line of knights and was one of the most sought-after men in the country. He was attractive, skilled, courteous and completely and utterly horrible.

You heard the way he talked about women like they were objects of desire and it made you sick. So very sick.

You found your hands gripping the wooden table, lip quivering, eyes watering. In an instant, Mary's hands were on your shoulders, head resting upon yours as she stared at you through the mirror, sadness glittering in her eyes.

"You look just like a dream," She whispered, "That man would be mad to not treat you like one. And if he is mad enough, he'll have to deal with me."

A gentle laugh escaped your lips, despite the fact you both knew Mary could do nothing against him. You lived in a world dominated by men, but gods, you prayed the fates were readying to change it.

"Let's get this over with," You sighed, hands wiping your tearing eyes, silently begging that none slipped from them, tainting the ground, revealing you and your storm of emotions.

Mary squeezed your hand, "Yes, my Lady."

Within moments you desperately wished to run back to the confines of your room, tear off your cream-coloured dress and cry the night away under the comforting stars.

It seemed that you were not the only one aware of what the truth behind this party was. Men and women grinned at you, the men with especially devilish grins.

You felt sick.

"Daughter," Your father called, stern voice ringing sharply over the crowd. Swallowing, you walked up to him, waiting for his next words, "Alexander wished for you to be in his company for tonight and I have agreed, I will be busy with the two of the Endless."

Saints, two of the Endless had actually responded to his invite.

The Endless, the beings that would stretch across eternity, all-powerful and mysterious. they walked above humans and all other creatures, their embodiments flowing through all that lived.

Two of the seven Endless were here, but who?

You did not have much time to dwell, your father's hand pushing you forward, toward the boisterous laughter of men, tiring of your presence already.

Through his slightly drunken eyes, Alexander's gaze caught yours and something you didn't like flashed deep within it as he motioned you over.

And you had intended to go over, you really had.

But the words on your arm prickled, soul screaming at you that this was wrong, to get away and go in search of your other half.

Your breathing picked up, hands trembling as you saw his face shift into something of confusion and then into blatant annoyance. He beckoned you toward him once more, or rather, commanded.

You took a step.

And suddenly you were running.

A breath of cold, night air welcomed you as you burst out of the house, feet hammering against the stone path. Behind you, the chatter and music quietened but you did not dare stop, not even when the hush of night was all to be heard, not when your lungs begged for air and your heart screamed.

In fact, you didn't stop until you collided with something.

Someone.

You froze.

And then you scrambled to apologise.

"I am so sorry--" You finally looked up at him, your breath hitched, and the word came spilling out of your mouth, "And you're...very beautiful."

And gods, he was.

He was beautiful.

His midnight hair was unruly as a raven's feathers, and his alabaster skin almost seemed to glow under the moonlight, making him look all too more ethereal. Sharp features, highlighted and regal made him look like a king, a god, greater than a god. Lean and mysterious was his figure, shrouded by a cloak wrapped around his shoulders, fine and confident. His hands were long and nimble, callous by the art of sculpting, the art of creating.

And his eyes.

Oh, his eyes.

So blue they were almost silver, the stars themselves glinted within his eyes, thousands of stories shimmering, so piercing it was hard to breathe.

He was so beautiful not even the gods could have crafted him.

When your words reached his ears, he went rigid. Eyes growing wide, pupils dilating. Breath halting entirely. His gaze was fixated on you, he was staring at you like you were impossible, like not even his wildest dreams could have created you.

It made your breath catch.

And then, the most beautiful words escaped his lips, voice as smooth as the skies, as deep as the seas.

"I have waited for you for so very long"

Your heart hammered, soul laughing with elation for it had finally found its home.

Words could not be formed as you stared at the god of a man, he was your soulmate. The person who would complete you perfectly, he would fit your every crevice and curve just as you would his.

You found yourself smiling.

And for the first time in a long time, so did Morpheus.

Somewhere, the fates grinned in triumph, and in suspense, for tonight was supposed to be your engagement party, where Alexander would ask for your hand and you would have to accept.

But for now, they'd let you forget about that and bask in the presence of the soulmate.

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explicitred · 2 years

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Hi, may I request first harbinger male yn accidentally saying that someone in the fatui is his favorite how will the harbingers react to that? Also sorry for any bad English this is my first time to request something

Fatui Harbingers reacting to Y/N’s “Favorite Person” - (Male Reader)

Oct 18 (2)

Tumblr Posting Marathon: https://at.tumblr.com/explicitred/tumblr-posting-marathon-oct-17-cyno-headcanons/8sy6ewfg7r6k

Includes: (Dottore?,) Signora, Childe, and Scaramouche

It all started in a Fatui meeting, the Tsaritsa grouped multiple harbingers into teams to discuss and contemplate future plans.

In one corner of the room, Signora, Childe, Scaramouche and Y/N were talking (arguing lol).

Childe bickered with Signora about trivial matters, while Scaramouche yelled at them with anger. Y/N stood silently with a sweat drop, watching them.

“Actually, who is your favorite person?” Childe suddenly turned to you, and all three harbingers had their attention on you.

“Someone.”

“Who?” He pouted as he childishly kept repeating.

Signora scoffed at Childe, “The adults should be talking”.

Childe ignored her with a displeased look, focusing on you once more with a grin again.

“Aww comrade, tell me who!”

“Someone.” You deadpanned, not wanting to reveal the answer.

Scaramouche crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

A couple hours later, it was officially the next day. Most people by now had gone to sleep or were working.

You were one of the few people who were working.

You glanced up at the door after hearing two knocks. You sighed and left the paperwork.

“Greetings, Y/N. I’m surprised your still up so late.” The blue haired masked man said. Personally, you had never talked with Dottore before. You didn’t know anything about him, except that he was a mad scientist. You didn’t know his mannerisms. If he was doing anything that was out of character, you wouldn’t know. Though you were the first harbinger, you were alert. You never know what could go wrong. (This is me not knowing Dottore and how he is like lol) (probably ooc)

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Dottore. What do you need?”

“Some information is all.” The Doctor (Dottore’s alias) smirked under his mask. “Shall we discuss somewhere else?”

A couple minutes later... (In the Meeting Room)

“And your favorite person is...?” Ah. There it is. That same question again and again. Hadn’t Dottore asked that multiple times already? Although, you suppose you could not deny that you didn’t answer. You just dodged the question and moved onto another topic.

He was quite determined to find out the answer, wasn’t he? If you answered truthfully, would he stop pestering you with questions? No, it wouldn’t be worth it-

“It’s someone in the Fatui.” Oh, oops.

“Oh? Who exactly?” Dottore inquired, as his tone shifted to something colder.

“You don’t need to know.”

Coincidentally, Signora, Childe, and Scaramouche heard the conversation.

Signora:

scoffs

Someone in the Fatui is your favorite person?

Who????

Signora knows that she could be your favorite person, however, the chances that she was not your favorite was still high. There were plenty of people in the Fatui.

So, who is it? Is it perhaps one of the harbingers? Arlecchino, Capitano, Dottore, or maybe Childe?

Either way, if it’s not her, they will feel the fury and wrath of Signora.

The Fair Lady (Signora’s alias) would send informants to find out more about who your favorite person was.

Would also seem grumpier and moodier

Would try to talk with you more and becomes more dignified around you.

Scaramouche:

Scaramouche is way more angry after hearing that you had a favorite.

His mood really shows, and no one dares to tell him about it.

The Balladeer’s (Scaramouche’s alias) underlings are terrified of him more than ever.

Would not talk to you, and if he does, he would use a harsher tone.

He’d feel a little bad with how he talked with you

His thoughts would be filled with you every moment

It’s not him, is it? He thinks. It’s someone else, isn’t it? He thinks.

Nevertheless, he still tries to make you his beloved.

Childe:

He would randomly show up at your office, in front of your door, with dozens of gifts.

Childe doesn’t like the idea that someone other than him could be your favorite. But if it were true, then he wouldn’t mind competing if it was for your love.

Whenever Childe has free time, he immediately comes to you and hangs out with you.

Whatever you do, Childe won’t leave you and will hug you with a bright grin plastered on his face.

Over time, gifts will increase in huge amounts.

He follows you like a puppy while you sweat drop.

A/N: Sorry this took so long 🥲

I originally was going to start this post with the sentence, “Rumors can spread fast. Especially if it was about the first and strongest Fatui Harbinger, Y/N.”

But I couldn't think of how to start or write this so I procrastinated lol

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raindrop-on-a-spiderweb · 10 months

Text

A Message To My Readers

I don't tend to use this tumblr as a personal blog, but I feel obliged to be honest to my readers this time.

On August 11, I shot myself in the head with a .22 caliber revolver.

The bullet entered through my right cheek, fracturing my orbital and mandibular, and exited through the side of my nostril, embedding shrapnel inside my face. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt very much. All I felt was a burning pressure tunneling through my face, and warm blood fountaining onto the collar of my dress. The rest of that night I do not remember–save that in the ambulance, blood clots the size of caterpillars were dropping out of my nose.

I spent the next few days in the hospital, the side of my face swelling up so much I couldn't see out of my right eye. I was in the hospital under observation for three days. Nurse aids--new hires I was supposing– kept looking at me with that faint gaze of horror and slight fascination, at the bloody mess on my face swelling up into a bloodier mess, like rubbernecking at a car accident. Otherwise my stay was uneventful–I watched the Discovery Channel and reread The Master and Margarita several times while we waited for the swelling to go down and for my flesh to knit itself together enough so I could be discharged.. My left nostril leaked so much blood it covered the pillow. Scabs formed to close the bullet wounds on both sides of my face.

I was then transferred to a psychiatric ward. The experiences I had there and the people I met I will remember for a lifetime. It was a fascinating cross-section of humanity. There was an 18-year-old redneck father-of-two (!) who, during a group therapy session where we were asked to find coping methods to deal with depression, yelled out "GO TO A SHOOTIN' RANGE!". The head nurse on the ward constantly quoted One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. There was a woman who believed she was "powerful reincarnation of an ancient druidess". Another man had been a highly successful local restauranteur before meth addiction and mental illness took away his life. A slight, blonde former nurse who after a failed relationship, stabbed herself in the liver and trachea.

The library was meager, but I read John Muir's First Summer in the Sierra and lost myself in snowy mountain peaks and the spray of waterfalls. I made myself popular by giving out palm readings in the day room and was correct approximately 80% of the time. I described one man's temperament as "fiery", which he correctly understood to mean he was an asshole. The ancient druidess asked for a reading but spent most of the time telling me about her myriad other reincarnations (respectively, killed in the Holocaust, killed in the Victorian era, killed in the medieval era). An old former nurse–not the blonde lady– came for a reading and it was so accurate she got teary-eyed; we soon became fast friends. She was elderly but sharp as a tack and had worked her whole life in the profession; through the 70s and 80s. She had never married, although she wished she'd had children. She had been a sci-fi writer as well and had a wealth of advice for me, one being that you should never become a nurse. Nursing had ruined her body and left her wheelchair bound.

My roommate was a quiet woman who barely said two words to me the first day and spent most of her time staring at the wall and sleeping. The therapists could not crack her in the least. By the second day we fell into a card game with each other, and little by little she lit up and started smiling. When she laughed it was infectious. She, I and the elderly nurse spent long hours in the day room, playing cards and watching television and laughing with each other. The night before we were discharged, we were up late, and she confessed her terrible circumstances, her life in foster care, her husband who had molested her children, her trafficking, and her upcoming court hearing so she could claw back custody of her children. A flash of contemplation passed her face, and she said to us, "I have talked more with you than I ever have with any of my therapists." I still have her and the nurse's numbers.

The therapy I was given and the connections I made were overall wonderful and affecting experiences. I left the ward looking forward to meeting the world headon, but when I got out, things grew worse. My mother withheld my medications and electronics and blamed me for everything; wanted me to go to a halfway house (thankfully my father let me stay with him permanently). I was on the verge of filing a police report before she gave them back. And then I realized I was being kicked out of the house. To walk into your room and realize it is not your own anymore, to see your belongings packed up and ready to be stored away or sent back with you, is a jarring experience; to have your eyes go to a familiar place and have it be so alien.

Then she said those words that made my heart drop to my stomach: That I was writing awful, dark things for an audience and that she was completely ashamed of me, and that she thought that it contributed to my decision to end my life. (and also that I was "posting sarcastic comments online for ego strokes"--wtf?) She had gone through everything private of mine, everything I strived to keep separate from my real life identity for this very reason, and told God knows how many people. All for nothing now.

Few things can compare to the horror of having a loved one finding out the deepest, rawest, most honest parts of yourself and reacting with disgust. To have them point a finger at your most delicate personal works and say, "This is responsible for your attempted suicide," when writing had brought me nothing but delight, happiness and friends at some of the darkest times of my life. Part of the reason I love writing was the lack of restraint and escapism, and the idea of being someone else. How could I possibly return to writing knowing that someone was constantly judging me and looking over my shoulder? How could I write honestly, without constantly second-guessing myself?

Anyway, my mother wanted nothing to do with me and threw me out with my father once I got my belongings. The last thing I said to her was "Next time, I won't miss." C'est la vie and that's the end. I'm officially disowned now and cutting off contact. No clue where I stand will-wise, but I don't care anymore.

We got in the car and went home. As my mood sank, I was tempted to do the unthinkable and I gave some serious thought to deleting my account and works. The thought of my mother (and potentially other family members too) reading these stories of mine in all their graphicness was a crippling prospect. It also occurred to me that she had started packing my room up when I was still in the hospital, and that finally made me cry. I wondered whether she was the same person who loved me and hugged me and protected me as a child, or she was the same person all along and I just never noticed.

When we got home to my dad's farm I was shaky and unfocused and my mind was in a dark fugue. But it was a bright and sunny August day. As soon as I got out of the car my cats poured out of the fields and out of the barn to surround me, meowing and excited after a week of not seeing me, Spot and Zorro and Aldous and Erik and Gidget. We're glad you're back. We're glad you're here. Beings that didn't judge me, that I didn't have to explain anything to or justify myself to, that just were happy that I existed.

As I felt the sunlight on my shoulders I started to cry again, but they were tears of relief. How could I have tried to kill myself when a moment so beautiful existed? Things will look up. They always do.

I love writing and I will never, and can never, stop.

#personal #writing

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rosze-v · 2 years

Text

paper bag

pairing: single dad! Aizawa Shouta x Reader, daughter! Eri x Reader, daughter! Eri x single dad! Aizawa Shouta

synopsis: you realized your neighbor have been coming home everyday

tw: fluff, single dad! Aizawa, daughter! Eri, comfort, reader lowkey don't have any sense of danger, mentions of crazy ex, Aizawa is a normal school teacher, normal world AU, mentions of adoption, adorable Eri, tired Aizawa

w.c : 2.7k

a/n: Halu! I'm back after so long!! Well I have been having some writer's block, and so I was trying to get into my groove, then I found out about collabs!! I'm new to Tumblr so that was new to me, and after like reading so many collabs, I decided to join myself!! If you guys noticed, I have been reblogging a lot of collabs cause yeah, I don't really have any self control. BUT! I have a lot of ideas for the collabs! If anything, this collab I'm joining is about to close soon, so I had fun chasing the deadline. Anyway!! I hope you guys have fun reading this, and sorry for the lengthy a/n, thank you @nuclevi for such an amazing collab, and allowing me to join! Also thank you to everyone who have been reading my fics, and following me! I really appreciate it :D I'm sorry if this one not really that good, but I truly hope I conveyed the story properly!

COLLAB : DADDY'S DAY OUT

You have always wonder who, or what kind of person live next to you. Despite already living in that apartment for 6 months, you have never heard, or even met them. Not to mention that your mysterious neighbor is barely home; you know because your neighbor tends to close their door with a bang, albeit not too loud. To begin with, you weren’t really a curious being in the first place, just that only recently, you have started to notice that your neighbor is home every day, and you can occasionally hear the sound of a child crying. You were worried of course, who’s the child, why so suddenly, are you going to be featured in a documentary soon?

But your curiosity was finally answered when you came back home from work, and there they, or rather he, the neighbor who you always wonder about. He was tall, lanky even, his dark circles were dark enough for you to understand the unshaven stubbles. You then saw the little child beside him, holding onto his black shirt. She was wearing the cutest pink dress, and you can’t help but coo at how cute she looks. Awkwardly, you walk slowly to your door, trying not to startle your neighbor.

He was fumbling his key holes whilst holding onto two bags of groceries. You could hear him grunting in frustration as he jams the key inside, finally, and with a quick sigh of relief, he opens the door. Truly, it seems like lady luck is frowning upon your neighbor when the paper bag ripped, and his groceries were rolling all over the floor. Seeing that, you quickly jump to action by picking up the rolling groceries, and then quickly went to the man to give him it.

The long-haired man eyes bore into yours as he mutters a thanks. You give him a curt nod as you were turning around to go back to your apartment, you saw the state of his apartment, and gasps. Like a huge, embarrassing¸ gasp, and that alerted the man. Your eyes fumble around at the clothes strewn all over, the toys here and there, and there was a distinct smell. You frowned at the condition of his home, and the thought of him housing a child there makes the frown deeper. You know what those condition means; he has his hands full on everything.

“Are you okay?”. You blurted out the question before your mind could think. The man stare into you as his eyes were filled with contemplation. He sighed, looking down while shrugging as he answers.

“Just… parenthood’s kinda tough.” You see, Aizawa is not one to just air out his personal problems, but ever since he found out he actually have a kid with his ex, and his crazy ex put the child for adoption, his life has been in constant hurry. You nodded in understanding as you ask again.

“Do you need any help? I can help you out, no biggie.” You utter with a warm smile, as you flash the little child a smile to. She adorably, hid behind her father while holding onto his shirt. Aizawa contemplates whether he should take up the offer, but he truly, he doesn’t really have much option. Trying to juggle his demanding work, and the appearance of his new child has put a huge toll on him physically and mentally.

And so Aizawa nodded, his head fall, feeling sudden embarrassment from the situation. He then saw a hand popping out, and as he looks back up, he saw your bright smile.

“The name’s (Y/n)! It’s very nice to meet you neighbor”. He blinked at you, as a smirk grows on his face. He extends his hand out, clasping yours for a hand shake.

“Aizawa Shouta. The little kid is Eri.” You grin, and crouch down, leveling with Eri.

“Hi Eri, can I be your friend?”. You said, extending your hand to hers. Eri looked at you with curiosity in her mind, then she looks up to Aizawa. Aizawa rubs her head, and nodded. Eri then look back at you, and with the cutest smile you have ever seen, she clasps your hand, and whispers a yes.

After the brief introduction, you told Aizawa that you’re going to place your things back at home before going to his, which he understands. You quickly went back to your apartment, and put down your things. As you were running out, you decided to change into a comfy pair of pants so it’ll be easier for you to move around. You then knock Aizawa’s door, and was greeted by Aizawa himself, as he welcomes you in.

“Sorry the house is a bit messy.” You chuckle, and pat his back two times. “That’s why I'm here Aizawa.” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You rolled up your sleeves, as you scan your surroundings, making mental notes on what to do, and where to start. You then ask Aizawa where the cleaning products are, in which he shows, and help you out by taking the products, and items you needed.

“So, what can I do to help-”. You put out a finger in front of him, shushing him. You place your hands on his shoulders, and turn him around, pushing him to his child.

“You and Eri should both take a bath, I’ll handle everything.”

“But-”

“No buts Mr. Aizawa, go and relax for once, okay?”. You give him a huge grin but Aizawa hesitated on letting you do all the work. You give him a stare down, and after a while of your little staring contest, he sighed in defeat, and went over to Eri to ask her if she wants to take a bath together. Eri who has been watching the bickering, thought that her father needs some time of his own, and she is already a big girl. She rejected her father, and told her that she’ll take her own shower. Aizawa sigh in defeat again, as he nodded and went over to his own room.

“Eri, do you want me to give you a bath instead?”. Eri glance at you, twiddling them hem of her dress. You smiled, and crouched down closer to Eri as you whisper.

“How about you clean up the toys in your room, and then after I finish cleaning up around the house, I’ll help you with a bath, how’s that sound?”. Eri give you a big smile as she rushes to her room. You smile softly, as you stood up. The first thing you start with was to look into the fridge to figure out what to cook. You then saw some ground meat, and place them in a big bowl with water, so it can dethaw. You then begin to pick up the clothes scatter around the house, and then chuck them into the washer machine. After that, you pick up everything else that was on the floor, which was mainly Eri’s toys, and start sweeping, and mopping the apartment.

You then spray some anti-bacteria everywhere, and spray some scented freshener afterwards. Once you were done with the living room, you quickly went back to the kitchen. You wash all the dishes, and wipe down the counter tops, and the dining table. After that, you were going to begin your cooking when you hear tiny footsteps coming towards you.

“I finished cleaning my room!”. Eri announced excitedly, as you pat her head.

“Thank you Eri! I’m gonna start with dinner real quick, and then I’ll help you with your bath okay?”. Eri nodded vigorously as she stood beside you, asking if there’s anything she can help you with. You were going to refuse but the eager look on her face made you melt. You then asked her to help you with setting up the table which she quickly obliges.

You start with washing the rice, and cooking it in the rice cooker. After that you begin chopping up all the needed ingredients for you to make the hamburger steak. You heard kids love eating it, and so after scanning through the recipe, you quickly start with your cooking. Thankfully, everything went smoothly, and you managed to finish cooking in under 20 minutes.

As you were serving the food at the dining table, Aizawa came out of his room with wet hair, white long sleeve, and black pants. He glances at the clock on the wall, and realized so much time has passed. He didn’t mean to take so long, but he finally could tidy up his own room, and take a long bath. He then approaches you, looking at you tinkering around the kitchen, and thought, how comfortable this feels. You upon seeing the approaching man, smile at Aizawa as he nodded, and then glance at her daughter, who haven’t shower.

“Eri, I thought you were going to take a shower?”. Aizawa ask as he close the distance between him, and his daughter.

“Ah sorry Aizawa, I asked her if she wants me to give her a bath, and she agrees, soooo…”. Aizawa frowned at the idea but Eri quickly held onto his shirt, giving him her best puppy eyes. It seems like Aizawa is losing to everyone today as he sighs again, for so many times already.

“Well since dinner is done, might as well eat first, and then you can take a bath, okay?” Eri nodded happily, as she went to her seat on the dining table.

“Aizawa, it will be alright if I join the both of you for dinner, right?”. You ask with a sheepish grin.

“Of course, you have help out, if anything, I should be the one cooking.” You told him that its okay, and they should start dinner.

“This taste amazing!!”. Eri exclaimed as Aizawa agrees. His heart swell at how nice you are, to help a complete stranger. It almost made him wary, but he cast away those doubts when he saw how gentle you are with Eri.

“So where do you work Aizawa?”. You ask after some minutes eating in silence.

“I’m a teacher at U.A actually.

“Woah! that’s amazing Aizawa. That was my dream school but, hehe, I didn’t pass the examination.” Aizawa nodded in understanding as he asks you.

“How about you? Where do you work?”.

“I actually work as a human resource manager in one of these hotels.” The both of you then went on with your conversations, asking each other about the most random things, serious stuff here and there.

For a while, Aizawa realize that he has actually been craving this, surprisingly. Aizawa have always been an introvert, but he always has Hizashi to talk too, but ever since he has Eri, he has been keeping it a secret, and avoiding Hizashi. It’s surprising to Aizawa that he wanted to relax like this, have someone to talk to. Not only that, it’s so easy to talk to you, and your presence feels so warm to him.

“I’ll do the dishes, don’t worry. You promised Eri right?”. You nodded with a smile, as you picked up Eri, giggling with her all the way to her room. Aizawa could only shakes his head at your antics, as he cleans up the dishes. He admits, he finally could have a little breather. The house look, feel, and smell clean. The dinner you made were so good, and he is truly grateful that he, and Eri could finally have some home cooking after a while.

After finishing up, he then went to Eri’s bedroom, hearing laughter from the bathroom, and saw you washing her head, making weird shapes with Eri’s hair. He then observes the both of you quietly, leaning his body on the door frame, as you told her to close her eyes, and hold her breath, as you wash away the shampoo in her head.

“Good job Eri! You’re so amazing!”. Eri grins at you, as she saw her father.

“Papa!”. Eri shouted, as Aizawa went over, and held onto her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Did you have fun princess?”. She nodded, as you went over to take a towel, to help her out of the tub.

Aizawa then went out of the bathroom, to give the two of you space. He was sitting down on one of the dining table chairs, waiting for the both of you, when only you came out.

“Where’s Eri?”.

“She said, she’s sleepy, so she’s going to sleep first”. Suddenly the both of you were quiet, and you break the silence first.

“I think I should go-”.

“Sit down first please, I want to talk with you.” He said, as you nodded and sit down in front of him. It was silence again, Aizawa was looking down at his fingers, and then back at you.

“Thank you… thank you so much for all of this.” Aizawa gestures around the apartment, and places his hand back on top of the table. He contemplates again whether it will be alright to talk to you about his condition, but you beat him to it.

“Did something happen?”. Aizawa gave you a questioning look, as you stare into his eyes, and continue.

“Well, you know how paper thin the walls can be right? So, I realized that you have been coming home a lot, and then I heard the sound of your child crying so I have been worried actually…”. You admit, as Aizawa slowly nod.

“Well, everything happened. I broke up with my ex-wife a long time ago, and I found out that I actually have a child with her” Aizawa sighs, rubbing his face as he continues. “Turns out that crazy bitch put my child up for adoption because she wants to fucking party, and fuck around”.

You hissed at his words, and frowned. How could someone just left such a beautiful child all alone. Your heart bleeds for Eri, and Aizawa who just found out.

“So, I brought her back, and turns out Eri have a lot of traumas… The first few months she always wakes up screaming from her nightmares. Sometimes she’s scared of me, but I have been trying to build her trust on me. But you guess it, it was not easy”. You were observing Aizawa as he speaks, and you notice his weak shoulders caving in, and the tired look before came again. You felt bad for him, it’s such a turn of events for him. You slowly place your hand on his trembling ones, lightly squeezing it.

Aizawa slowly looks up, noticing your worried look, and reluctantly, he squeezes your hand back. Then it was silence again, as the both of you savor each other’s presence. You were the one to break the silence again, as you say.

“Well, Aizawa, I don’t mind coming over to help you once in a while. Besides I really like Eri, she’s an adorable kid.”

“I could never ask for such things again (y/n). What you have done today was more than enough.” Aizawa said, his face twisting in discomfort.

You shake your head, smiling, and squeezing his hand again. “Please, I don’t really mind. If anything, it’s such a delight for me to talk to Eri, and well, you.” You said, a light blush spreads through your cheek.

Aizawa smirks at your remark as he chuckles. “Well then (y/n), I can’t possibly say no now”. You look up immediately in glee, as you give him the biggest grin.

“I think I should go now Aizawa, it’s pretty late already.” He nodded, walking you to the door. As you were outside, you turn around facing Aizawa again. He was smiling down at you, as you took one of his hands, and squeezes it again.

“Take care Aizawa. See you later”. You whisper, giving him a soft smile, as Aizawa nod, giving your hand a slight rub before you went off to your own place. Aizawa was smiling like an idiot, he felt stupid for smiling over some whispers, and hand squeezes. As Aizawa turn around after closing the door, he saw Eri standing there with a grin on her face.

“Papa likes (y/n)”. She exclaimed as Aizawa chuckles, and nodded. He pulls up Eri into her arms, bringing her back to her room.

“Yeah, papa thinks so.”

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berenwrites · 6 months

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Dreams in the Night - Stranger Things - Steddie, Chapter 1 of 9

Dreams in the Night: But Vampires Aren't an Upside Down Thing!

Summary: Steve has been having nightmares, seeing through the eyes of a vampire like creature in Hawkins as it hunts. He puts the dreams down to past trauma and too many horror movies at Family video. He’s checked and no one’s been hurt, so even Robin agrees. However, his world is about to be turned upside down yet again as the nightmares become far too real.

Tumblr Master Chapter Listing | Also on AO3

For: @lady-lostmind (lady_lostmind on AO3)

Relationships: steddie, platonic stobin

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: ~18600

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: vampire!Eddie, Kas!Eddie, hurt/comfort, bisexual!Steve, bisexual!Eddie, platonic stobin, steddie

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

Chapter 1: Dreams & Portents

Robin gave him a look the moment she climbed into the car and Steve knew exactly what she was going to say.

“How much sleep did you get this time?”

“A couple of hours,” he admitted.

He had been hoping he looked better than he thought he did, but apparently not.

“The dreams again?” she asked.

He nodded, waiting for her to buckle up around her thick winter coat. It was threatening to snow, and the air was crisp and cold.

“I take it you checked?” she added.

He nodded again.

“It was one of Dustin’s neighbours,” he replied, pulling away from the curb. “Went by there this morning. They were fine, cleaning the ice off their car to go to work.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he tried to push back the headache that was threatening. The final battle with Vecna had come and gone months ago. They had gone back into the Upside Down like an army unit in August. El had taken the bastard down while the rest of them hit him and his creatures with everything they had. There had been injuries, but nothing fatal, and Max was even talking about getting back on her skateboard now. It was just under three weeks to Christmas, and yet his stupid brain had decided to throw nightmares into his path even though it was all over.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t tell the others?” Robin suggested gently.

“Tell them what?” he replied. “They’re just nightmares, Robs. I don’t want to worry them over nothing.”

“Nightmares that are getting clearer and clearer,” she countered.

“That’s just my subconscious being a dick,” he said, pulling onto the main road. “The gates are closed. The Upside Down is back where it belongs. El would have told us if anything was happening. She made Owens swear to it before she would help him when they reopened the lab to monitor everything. It’s just winter blues getting to me. All the darkness.”

“But you’ve been having them randomly for nearly two months,” Robin said.

“And I had nightmares for months after Starcourt as well,” he replied. “You did too.”

“But this isn’t …”

“Robs, please,” he interrupted her, “they’re just dreams. Vampires aren’t even an Upside Down thing. I probably saw too many vampire movies on the run up to Halloween, my dumb brain latched onto them, and it mixed it up with everything that happened this year. Every person I recognised I checked on and they were perfectly fine.”

He glanced over and Robin was giving him one of her contemplative looks.

“Okay,” she agreed after he looked back at the road, “but tell me all about this one so I can be sure.”

Steve sighed, pinching his nose again. He didn’t really want to talk about it, but Robin deserved answers.

“It was the same as all the others,” was how he decided to start. “I’m seeing through the eyes of someone else. I know it’s not me, but it’s like I’m an observer. All I can do is watch. He…”

“You’re sure they’re a he?” Robin asked. “You haven’t been sure before.”

He considered that, because it hadn’t occurred to him.

“Yeah, definitely a he,” he replied.

“How do you know?” Robin asked.

This was what she was good at, digging out the details he hadn’t thought of. Although he wanted to dismiss the nightmares as just that, he appreciated how Robin was willing to help him talk it out.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just feel it, I guess.”

“So still no details about whose eyes you’re seeing through?” she said.

He shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “I don’t really see anything about him. I think maybe because he’s the completely made-up part he’s not distinct.”

“Okay,” Robin said ticking something off on an imaginary clipboard, “proceed.”

He managed a small smile at her attempt to lighten the tone.

“This time it started where he was hiding in the bushes of someone’s backyard,” he explained. “I recognised it from Dustin’s birthday party, where we could see into the neighbours’ gardens. It was the grumpy guy’s on the left, with the awful carving on the back step.”

“Ugh, still don’t know if that was supposed to be a bear or a beaver,” Robin commented.

They hadn’t had much reason for celebrations between spring break and when Vecna had finally been finished off, but they had tried to make sure the kids got at least parts of a normal life, even if Hawkins has still been split apart at the time.

“Yeah, well clearly I have not forgiven him for yelling at the kids,” Steve went on, “because he came out to smoke. Guess his wife doesn’t let him smoke inside.”

“Good for her,” Robin said.

“And we moved forward, stalking him,” Steve said, shivering slightly at the memory. “He was standing in the middle of his yard, wrapped in a dressing gown and a coat and we crept up behind him. We tapped him on the shoulder. He spun round and we laughed, even as he froze. I could see the fear in his eyes, before it kind of drained away until he looked like he was sleepwalking. The cigarette fell from his lips, like it does when people are shocked in the movies.”

He paused as the crystal-clear memory moved through his thoughts. Dreams didn’t usually stay with him long, but nightmares were a different matter, especially these ones.

“It was like I could sense the vampire’s hunger then,” he said, using the traffic on the road to distract him from the recollections. “He could smell the man’s blood. He was desperate, like he hadn’t eaten in days. We moved in and he bit him on the neck.”

He had to pause again.

“You okay, Steve?” Robin asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It was so intense. I could taste the blood this time, like I was actually drinking it. It tasted good, which is weird, because I’ve tasted blood and it’s not good, but it was like the vampire perceived it differently. It was euphoric, he felt euphoric, and that’s what woke me up.”

“And you’re sure this guy didn’t have any marks on him this morning?” Robin checked.

“Well, he was wearing a scarf, but I’m pretty sure if you woke up with two holes in your neck, you’d be heading for the doctor’s office not cheerfully cleaning off your car,” he replied.

“Point,” Robin agreed. “And none of the others you tracked down had marks,” she added.

“Exactly,” he said. “They’re just dreams.”

“Hmmm,” she said, nodding when he glanced over. “You have a twisted subconscious. If it wasn’t giving you sleepless nights, I’d approve.”

“Thanks, I think,” he replied. “’Don’t get on my bad side or I’ll send my dream vampire after you’ doesn’t sound particularly threatening.”

“Might make a good movie,” Robin decided and pulled out her mascara.

“I’d rather my deep dark secrets not be plastered across the big screen, thank you very much,” he replied to that.

He just hoped it would be a quiet day at Family Video so he could nurse his headache in peace. Shifts were much easier now that he had Robin there most of the time. She was considering her options and working to make up extra money for college, so they were mostly a pair for their shifts at the job now. He’d barely heard from his parents since the “earthquake” in the Spring, but they were still paying the bills for the house, so he wasn’t about to complain. Robin had her own room there these days which she used most weekends, that was unless they fell asleep on the couch together without even making it upstairs. Saturday nights were platonic soulmate nights, and they were sacred. Friday nights the kids usually descended for a movie evening of some kind. As far as he was concerned, Friday and Saturday were the best nights of the week. He’d kind of given up on dating since Vecna. Maybe he’d make a New Year’s resolution to jump back in, but it seemed like so much effort for little return now. It wasn’t as if he could risk a date staying over at the moment anyway, not with the nightmares.

End of Chapter 1

On to Chapter 2

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #platonic stobin #vampires #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #eddie lives #fanfic #fanfiction #dreams in the night - steddie #steddie holiday exchange

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siineko · 2 years

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Side OC - Mika

Just a trial run with a new side OC I made on a whim, Mika! Note: Mika is nonbinary and uses They/She pronouns. Mika mainly works at a.....club.. that offers fairly lewd services. idk what their world wants to call it specifically, but I’ll workshop it perhaps.

NOTE: This story is very NSFW, and contains multiple instances of borderline s//exual content. (Of course emeto as well, but with a slight moment of implied scat-but only implied, as I refuse to actually show any of that off- doesn’t do it for me, but its story relevant) Note 2- IMPORTANT: Also like every character in this story is like,, midway through figuring out their relationships with gender/sexuality, so if any mention of that contemplation/sliight dysphoria (About one sentence of Mika being slightly uncomfortable w/ their breasts), then this perhaps isn’t the story for you

---

For this particular story, Mika tries their best to work their shift, when she begins to feel very unwell, though they deny it for as long as they can, seeing as they certainly need the money.

Pictures will be posted to my Google Drive again, seeing as some of their club activities are openly included in the pictures, and I doubt Tumblr would let that slide. (They could, but I won’t risk it again after the whole “marked as sensitive” ordeal) Picture Link: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1sfwlD7XZFXb8DV24Rac6m3uQDpzc717s?usp=sharing

Anyway! Here we go-

----

For Mika, the plan was to go to work as normal. They’d serve some food occasionally, chat to guests, and sometimes tend to guests in a different way, if that’s what the dear guest desired. They’d of course have their limits on what she’d do, but overall, many things weren’t a problem. Man? Woman? Neither? Mika didn’t particularly care (as long as the guest was attractive, anyway).

However, tonight was different. They felt a bit off. They were tired, and their stomach felt heavy and bloated. “Hmm, not necessarily a problem”, she thought “some customers like someone with a little more weight to them”.

They continued their job, and all was mostly well, until their stomach began to feel upset, and would occasionally gurgle ominously.

They powered on, however- They really needed the money, and they sure as hell weren’t gonna let a stomachache send them home, after all.

They decided to distract herself with a client- A young person seemed interesting, and kinda cute, in a shy way. They were average height, had blue hair, and was wearing a short skirt.

“Hey, gorgeous, wanna have a bit of fun?” they flirted as they approached the individual. They jumped in surprise “O-oh hello! I- ummm, maybe? th-this is my first time, and I ummmm I don’t know what to do...” Mika smiled “Oh? First time, huh? Don’t worry- We take good care of all of our customers here”! She then proceeded to explain about the club’s services, as the guest blushed more and more. “And, oh I forgot to ask- If you feel comfortable telling me, may I know your name and what pronouns you’d prefer?” Their eyes widened in shock, were they not expecting to be asked? M-My name is Sai and I.... I ummm..” they faltered cautiously before continuing “I’d like if you used... used ummm... She! She and uh, they- both are fine” she fidgeted nervously as she spoke, seemingly judging Mika’s response, if they were to take a guess.

“Well, Sai- you are certainly stunning young lady,” Sai lit up at the mention, “Oh, you can call me Mika, and I prefer they and she as well!” Mika stepped closer to Sai, and crossed their arms under their chest to make it stand out more. They didn’t always like their breasts, and occasionally wore a binder outside of work, but they served their purpose here, and hiding them with this uniform wasn’t really an option. “Now, to get down to business- Would you like me to... tend to you?”

Sai blushed and nodded timidly “I- I’d like that, if you’d be ok with it... I-I’ll pay what I need to”

With that matter settled, Mika went to work. They placed one hand around her waist, and gently placed another on her breast- causing Sai to gasp and blush in surprise. They continued by lifting her skirt, and began to stroke her thigh, while staring at her to judge her reaction. Sai continued to blush furiously, and tilted her hips towards them, giving them the go ahead to go a little further.

They slipped their upper hand into Sai’s shirt, and rubbed at her chest, while her lower hand continued past her thigh, and towards her crotch, where a bulge began to show through her underwear.

Mika chuckled, and rubbed at it the best she could, causing Sai to moan in pleasure.

Mika continued to tease and pleasure Sai for a while, before Sai had enough for the moment, and cut it off, which Mika understood.

Mika finished up dealing with their end of that, and felt their stomach gurgle again. They had honestly almost forgotten about her stomach, and figured that since they already had a break, they would go sit down in the back for a bit.

They found a nice spot, and sat down, leaning back so that their stomach could have room to settle. They were really bloated now, and they were beginning to feel a bit queasy. Perhaps their activity with Sai just jostled them a little too hard, and they hoped that sitting here, and rubbing their upset stomach would help- and burped a few times in an attempt to relieve the pressure, if only a little.

It wasn’t working, and the feeling was getting worse. They felt like they were going to shit themselves, or hurl, and they weren’t sure which, so they moved to the bathroom just in case, while occasional burps made them move their hand to her mouth, as she was constantly afraid that the next one wouldn’t be air.

They reached the stall, and positioned herself, while clutching her stomach in pain- before proceeding to absolutely shit her brains out. The pain didn’t go away, however, and a wave of sudden nausea made her loose their balance, and they caught themselves on the floor, before burping up a small string of vomit, which tasted heavily of the alcohol that they had consumed while entertaining guests (not enough for intoxication, mind you- just enough for the guests to feel like Mika was included in the fun, and not just watching them drink).

“Ouuugh- *hurp* not like this- I can’t be sick now, I...I have to get back to work...” Mika protested their predicament, and clasped their hand firmly over her mouth, stifling back a multitude of gags, and swallowing down any of their stomach contents that dared to try rebelling.

After composing themselves to the point where she didn’t think they were going to puke, they cleaned themselves up and went back out to work- as their break was definitely ending by this point.

This brought her to their next customer, a feminine individual wearing... a very revealing outfit. They had long brown hair, short shorts, and... and a top that was so short that it looked in danger of revealing their breasts if it was even bumped too hard. However, they looked surprisingly timid, especially for how they dressed. Maybe they were still getting used to dressing like that? Mika could understand if that was the case, as they took a bit to get used to their own outfit for work.

Mika knew they had to be professional, and not get attached, but even their appearance was beginning to turn them on a little.

“Good evening, beautiful- Are you here for pleasure tonight?” Mika asked, trying their best to be as charming as possible. It was already their job, but they really wanted the opportunity to play with those- *ahem* They were getting ahead of themselves.

“Ah- Y-yes, I am.. I’m here for p-pleasure.” They blushed, and seemed shy, but determined. Mika was thoroughly aroused. If they were being perfectly honest, they quite liked when timid bottoms asked for it from them.

They asked their usual questions- If this was their first time, name and pronouns, etc.

“My name is.. Sena. I prefer they and she, and umm.. this may be my first time here but, umm..” Sena blushed “...I don’t mind how you start... I wanna be touched...”

Mika thought this was a dream come true- Same pronoun choice? Unexperienced? A bottom who desperately wants their touch? If it weren’t for the fact that they still felt hot, sweaty, and queasy, this would be the perfect night. But- they REFUSED to let their stomach ruin this for them, and focused at what was at hand.

After some flirting, Mika couldn’t take the slow pace anymore- They began to fondle Sena’s (quite large and attractive) breasts, and slipped their other hand between their thighs and to their crotch.

Sena blushed and moaned “Please... more... I beg you...”

Mika felt themselves going crazy from arousal, and leaned in closer. They lifted Sena’s shirt just a little and continued to fondle their breast, as they leaned in to lick Sena’s now exposed, and quite hard, nipple.

Sena moaned again and leaned forward a little, which only pressed those gorgeous breasts closer. Mika took note, and went back and forth between licking and sucking at their nipple.

They slipped their other hand deeper into Sena’s crotch, and could now feel that they were getting wet- And honestly, if Mika was being honest, they were starting to get wet themselves.

Unlike Sai, who had her fun after a bit of groping, Sena begged for more “P-please! Harder! I- I think I HNNG--” they cut off as they moaned and climaxed from Mika’s touch.

With this bit of work finished, they both caught their breath while talking, and to Mika’s surprise, Sena offered their number. Normally they would be more apprehensive, especially with a client, but whether it was due to their genuine attraction to them, or what may be the beginnings of a fever clouding their judgement, they accepted, and gave their own in return, and Sena left on their way after a little while, leaving Mika alone, resting on the couch that she and Sena had been using.

Now without the distraction of work, Mika could clearly feel her bloated stomach pressing firmly against their skirt, and another gurgle rippled through it. They lifted a hand to it, trying again to rub away their discomfort, but they were really feeling sick now.

It was fine for a little while, but they had really overexerted herself while tending to Sena, and now they sat there, leaned back on this couch, while the room felt hotter than ever.

They burped a few times to relieve the pressure, but not only did it not work, but each burp felt wetter, until the last one ended in a gag. “Oh gods.. I feel.. I think I’m gonna be sick!” They pulled themselves off the couch, desperate to make it back to the bathroom, and their stomach contents swirled with their movement.

A wave of nausea overtook her, and she clutched her stomach as well as her mouth as it filled with thick saliva. “Ughh my stomach... so nauseous... gotta get to a toilet... gonna puke...” They thought one last time before heaving sharply, with such force that it caused them to double over and use their hand to brace themselves, leaving their mouth uncovered.

Without warning, they suddenly couldn’t hold it anymore, and multiple thick waves of sick poured from their mouth, and splattered onto the floor, barely giving them a moment to even breathe.

With a moment in-between, they could spare a glance around them, and saw as the remaining people were now staring.

“Nonononooo not *urp* not here... Not with people watching... gotta get out... so hot... bathroom... I’m gonna-”

She wanted to move, but she was getting dizzy, making their stomach swirl more than before, and she braced their hands on their legs, afraid that they’d fall over if this continued- as vomit shot up their mouth, into their cheeks, and unable to gather the strength to fight back, puked up a few more waves of watery vomit.

Once the waves of vomit stopped for the time being, she stumbled back and collapsed into the couch, and lacked the strength to walk to the bathroom. They were unbearably hot, dizzy, their stomach churned, and the nausea didn’t seem to go away.

Perhaps they had caught something, and to make things worse, their gut gurgled wetly, and they needed the bathroom again... This was still going to be a long night...

Note about characters: - Mika (AFAB) is nonbinary, uses They/She, and though this job wasn’t their first choice, circumstances were what they were- They aren’t fond of their work outfit, and aren’t always comfortable with how “On Display” their breasts are in it, but they deal with it for work, and wears a binder while in their personal clothing - Saihe “Sai” (AMAB), goes by She/They, and is still trying to figure out her relationship with gender, as she only realized she was a girl recently, and is trying things out - Sena (AFAB) is Nonbinary, uses They/She, and is experimenting with their sexual/gender identity as well as trying to see if they are actually ok with having boobs or not, though they often bind

//Please Don’t Reblog to Non-Kink Blogs//

#Siin's OCs #emetophilia

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m-to-the-6th-power · 1 year

Text

Gonna start doing WIP Wednesday, I'll either share snippets I've written that ive got planned for later in the fic. Based on an idea from this tumblr post that put the plot bunny up for adoption.

Gideon stared down at the paper for a long tense moment. A commission, not only that but an officer's commission. 1st lieutenant in the cohort. Sponsored by Aiglaminaie and marked with the seal of the Ninth. Signed by both the Revenant, no Reverend Mother and Father. She looked up at her teacher. "Why?" She asked plainly and openly, sensing a deeper current just waiting to pull her under.

"You need freedom. The house needs from you. I convinced our lady to let you go with this commission if you swear by The Tomb and The Rock that you will keep your tongue in your head, return after your commission is up for at least five years, and if you will keep an ear to the ground for any who have no love for their house," Aiglaminaie gave a stern look to Gideon. "Any new blood would be a blessing. And I'm sure if anyone can draw a crowd, it will be you Nav."

Gideon felt a surge in her chest at that, not quite pride but close. "And what? Convince them to come and live here? I hate it here, how will they feel?"

Aiglaminaie looked at Gideon for a long moment, peeling her layers away slowly. "There are many who tire of war, of fighting. There are chances for silent contemplation and art here. It is mysterious, and it is holy. Those will be your selling points."

Gideon nodded, "Freaks and geeks, got it," Gideon said, holding up a hand to forestall Aiglaminaie, "I'll try to get anyone i can, maybe I'll even find a nice older swordsperson for you. To take over training of course. Any preference?"

Aiglaminaie stared at Gideon for a long moment before her mouth quirked up into what for anyone else would be a smile. "As long as they are sufficiently deft with a blade, theirs or others, I'm sure they'll do just fine."

Gideon gave an honest smile and a hug to the only person who had ever loved her on the Ninth. "When do I leave?"

"The shuttle arrives in 2 hours. Pack your bags and be ready. Lady Harrowhark wants to see you before you leave, she'll probably just run over everything I've already covered. But until you're on that shuttle you're still a member of this house first, don't make her regret sending you."

Gideon grasped Aiglaminaie by the shoulders. "I will make you proud," She said before turning and starting to gather items around her cell.

Aiglaminaie gave a soft, "You already have Nav," before leaving the cell.

------

Gideon arrived at cohort headquarters five hours later, her shades firmly in place and head spinning with the press of humanity all around her. It should've only taken 4 from the time Aiglaminaie had first given her the commission, but as usual Harrowhark Nonagesimus had to waylay Gideon for an hour being spooky and all around weird. The first item in her itinerary was to get her picture taken, then the physical testing, and finally getting her room assignment and new wardrobe.

As Gideon waited in line, the person behind her tapped her shoulder. When Gideon looked, she saw a girl about her age, tan with a necromantic build, with brown hair the color of Drearburh dirt and eyes the color of ink. "Yes?" Gideon asked, attempting politeness.

The girl blushed immediately, looking down at her hands now clasped in front of her. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I think your hair is gorgeous, and I really like your glasses."

Gideon felt her mouth drop open, shocked at the compliment. "Thanks," Gideon said, feeling her chest puff slightly as she felt the warmth spreading up from her stomach. "I really like your eyes. It's like looking into space."

The girl thrust out a hand, "Eleanor Chatur. Necromancer of the Fourth House. Commissioned Second Lieutenant. Available."

Gideon felt shock roll through her at the forwardness and took the hand carefully, she didn't want to get in trouble before her picture was even taken for breaking another soldiers hand. "Gideon Nav. Two hander swordswoman of the Ninth. Commissioned First Lieutenant. Also available for a late lunch after all this."

"It's a date," Eleanor said, grinning. "But just a warning ninth, don't forget. The Fourth is all about fidelity." She said, imbuing the last word with such import that Gideon felt a shiver go down her spine.

Gideon was searching for an appropriate quip as a head popped out of the door next to her, "Next picture."

Gideon turned to Eleanor, "They'll have to lock me up to keep me away," Gideon said before turning back to the man standing at the door looking peeved. "Let's meet in the cafeteria around 3."

As Gideon sat for her picture, lenses tucked safely in her pocket and appropriately solemn look on her face, she felt her head spinning. The first day of the rest of her life was starting off well. She was joining the cohort, away from Nonagesimus, and she had a date. Nothing was going to bring her down today.

That is right up until the terminal began to beep incessantly and everyone in the room trained their weapons on her. "Place your weapon on the ground and place your hands on your head. Slowly."

Gideon did as instructed, staring down the barrel of the gun pointed at her face, the interior like the yawning void of space. "What's this about?" She asked, feeling cold bands begin to wrap around her ribs.

"Your picture triggered quite a few warnings in our system," One of the men inside said, reading off the terminal. "What's your mother's name?"

"What's yours asshole?" Gideon responded before her verbal filter could fully catch up. "I don't know, okay?" Gideon said plainly after only a moment. "She landed on the Ninth in a haz suit with me, I survived, she didn't. Couldn't get anything from her but my name."

The man nodded slowly. "Fine, fine. You'll be held in the brig pending communications with the first house," The man gestured to the one standing closest to Gideon, "I'm sure we'll get this all figured out with no issue lieutenant, and you'll be able to get back to your duty in no time."

As Gideon was lead away the bands tightened around her chest. 'I'm not making it to that lunch date am I?'

-----

The first day was the hardest. She was free of the Ninth house. She was at the cohort to become a soldier, and she was already back in a cell. The cuff on her ankle was disturbingly familiar in a way that made her skin crawl and the spot between her shoulders itch. She didn't even have her sword.

The floor felt odd against her hands. It was slightly soft and had give. It made her pushups harder to do, but star jumps and sit ups felt better overall. She felt herself slipping, like her recent height had been built on a dune made of Drearburh silt and it was starting to slip away faster and faster, skeletons from Nonagesimus forming from the silt to strike her down for her hubris of believing she could escape a cell.

After her training and a meal, a double helping of spiced ground beef covered with a vibrant yellow cheese that did not look safe and strips of potato with the skin still on in parts covered with salt, she felt better. She stopped and thought about her options as she lay down to sleep. They had said once everything was cleared up she could return to duty. She would find Eleanor and explain that they actually had locked her up and hopefully get that date. She would take the field, first on the ground, hopefully in a battalion with Eleanor as her Necromancer. As she began to imagine what it would be like in the field, Eleanor and her in the officers berth together, sitting together and chatting after a long difficult battle. Eleanor removing Gideon's leathers, running her delicate hands over her shoulders from behind her, reverential like she was something precious and holy. Eleanor resting her head between Gideon's shoulder blades just beneath the knob of her spine and saying, "That was truly exceptional. Your skill with a sword is unparalleled." The hands run down her sides, nails dragging softly along her ribs and abdominal muscles, coming to rest at the hem of her cohort undershirt, skin just barely brushing skin. "Color me impressed Griddle," Was the last she imagined before sleep took her under.

When Gideon first awoke the next day, she had a moment of extreme disorientation. Had everything, being freed from the ninth, coming to the cohort, meeting Eleanor, been a dream? Grief welled up in her chest, cold as a night spent outside in a Drearburh winter. She began to spiral downwards faster and faster like a shuttle caught in the gravitational well of Dominicus until finally she looked down at herself and noticed the stark white of the cohort undershirt and briefs she wore. The image of those instead of loose, flowing, black, Ninth house sleeping gowns immediately snapped her back to reality and released gravity.

Gideon took a long moment to appreciate that at least one part of her freedom was still fully intact before levering herself up in the bed, tucking one foot under her thigh, the other ankle under her calf and deciding on a next course of action. She was going to fall behind in her physical fitness and classes sitting in here, the first could be mitigated by training, the second she would have to try to train herself in that area too. With that acknowledgement, Gideon stood and went to the door of her cell, three hard knocks bringing a cohort sergeant to the other side.

"Chow is still an hour out Nav," The sergeant said with the faintest familiar accent and a glance at his watch. "I've known a few fresh Niners, was one myself 20 years ago. All of us were one step away from scurvy when we first showed up. I think I put on as much weight in my first two weeks from proper nutrition as I did the training."

At the mention of food Gideon realized that she was ravenous. "That's great Sergeant but not what I was gonna ask about," Gideon said shortly, "Can I get books in here? Something to pass the time and all that?"

The sergeant nodded, "Oh yeah, you can get textbooks, comics, fiction and nonfiction from the library, just about anything they put on flimsy except skin mags. You can get skin mags from the store. Get them from the PX too, older issues are cheaper but they're fully digitized. Got stuff going back almost to the resurrection itself," He stopped and studied Gideon's face slowly, "Don't worry too much, most soldiers throughout their career will spend at least a few days in the brig, normally it doesn't result in a loss of station or anything, just a slap on the wrist really."

Gideon gave the man a grin, his reassurance surprisingly effective with that sight Niner lilt to his voice. "Thanks sergeant... I never caught your name," Gideon realized with a sheepish grin.

"Anastas Nav," The man replied easily, spreading his hands. "I guess that almost makes us family huh?"

Gideon blinked, remembering the question from yesterday. She'd never had a family. The feeling was... nice was a good word for it, if a bit vague. It'd give Ortus conniptions to hear her be so lazy in descriptions. "I'll take any family I can get here," Gideon responded. "Any chance you could get me some books on tactics, strategy, anything that might be useful for a commissioned officer? And, if I promise to get you back for the cost, a skin mag?"

Anastas laughed, "The learning style books, sure, sure. No problems there. Unfortunately the skin mags are technically contraband, sorry cousin," He shrugged with a rueful look as if to say 'My hands are tied,' "It's a real pain when you're in here a week for a simple pub brawl and you got a copy of Fidelity of the Fourth and Naughty Nuns of the Ninth that you've barely creased waiting in your berth."

Gideon's mind ground to a screeching halt at that. She felt her ears warming as she blushed, remembering Eleanor's comment and something fuzzy from her dreams the night before. "I'm sorry, what were those titles?"

"Oh, I forgot you're fresh from the Ninth. You don't get those all the way out there. You've only got Mithraeum and Playadept right?" He asked as a bell began to ring, sounding the time. "And that's the chow bell. I'll see about getting you an extra helping of food like last night, and after my relief shows up, I'll see about getting you some light reading material."

Gideon's stomach took that moment to growl, low and sustained. "Thanks, if there's anything I can do for you once I'm out, just let me know."

Anastas nodded thoughtfully. "My old sergeant, man by the name of Ajax, always said the better the officer the sooner they end up in the brig," As he started walking away he called back, "When you're running this place, just remember your dear cousin Anastas."

Gideon found herself grinning when she started her workout, even in a cell with no clue of when she would be released, even with her fate fully uncertain, she had family. Someone with her name, someone who would claim her. She got entirely through her sit ups and push ups, standard and clapping, before the scrape of metal on plex sounded, a tray of food slid into the room. Just behind it was two truly massive cups of a black liquid with small wisps of steam coming off of them, with a bowl of white powder and a red and white carton following soon after.

"Took me a while to get there," Anastas said from the other side of the door. "They were getting ready to clear down to begin lunch prep, so I got as much as I could grab. I need to take the sugar bowl, that's the white stuff, back PDQ, so go ahead and make up your bari how you like it and slide that back on through so I don't get busted down to cleaning the pissers, again."

Gideon moved the tray, watching it bow slightly in the middle as she lifted it and sat it to the side. She took 3 heaping spoonfuls of the sugar for each cup and slid the bowl back through. She opened the white and red carton, taking the hint and adding a small pour to each cup, suddenly entranced by the way the color shifted to tan as it spread through the drink. When she took her first sip, she found it sweet and smooth, feeling energy flow into her. When she turned to her tray she found a tray so loaded with food a necromancer would have been hard pressed to lift it. Slices of bread piled 5 high on one side, a pile of crusty looking almost bread on the other covered with a light glaze of some brown liquid, between them a massive pile of something a much milder yellow with chunks of the dangerous yellow in it with three different kinds of meat, a patty that looked similar to her meal last night, something more tubular, and almost flat strips of meat dark red and white, all of this overtop of finely shredded potatoes, somehow clumped together and deep fried.

Gideon Nav ate, no Gideon Nav feasted. She took a bite of everything before digging in with wild abandon. For the first time in nineteen years, she was sated, she was full. She found herself with a half piece of bread, pensively sopping up the last remnants of grease from the tray and thinking. While she ate Anastas had dropped off her books and she had started leafing through them. The books on tactics was fairly dense, and supremely dry, but Gideon had lived within hearing range of Ortus Neigenard for years. She could soldier, or well prisoner, through this.

Through the day, Gideon studied, Gideon ate, Anastas dropped by after his shift had ended and chatted with her for a while. It was a bit strange when she stopped to think about it. She was in prison, back in a cell, but her needs were being met more strongly now than ever before. At least she wasn't in the dark any longer.

After a few hours of reading Gideon felt an itch begin to crawl up her spine like she imagined a necromancer drawing her fingers slowly up her back would feel, barely there and ghostly. It made her squirm as she imagined Nonagesimus drawing those bony fingers along each knob of her spine. The feeling made her want, no need, to move. She did star jumps and push ups until the feelings abated. When she felt like herself again, Gideon settled back on her bed and studied more. The fingers came back faster the next time. Gideon forced herself to buckle down and focus solely on studying even with the distractions. She didn't notice how fast time was moving until the clatter of metal on plex sounded, a tray of food being pushed through the door towards her. She ate less ravenously this time, slowly working her way through the tray of food, still studying between bites.

When sleep finally came for Gideon Nav, she fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of all the tactics she had absorbed through the day. She dreamed of working next to a necromancer that she never got a good look at who despite the action still found time to take hold of Gideon's hand at the end of the fighting, turning her palm inwards and pressing her lips softly to her palm, leaving a smudge of alabaster and charcoal paint behind.

It was 2 weeks later when Gideon awoke to the sound of a tray sliding through the door. When she saw Anastas standing on the far side, a grin split her face. Anastas had been a great friend so far, even though he'd come from the Ninth, he might be willing to return. As she took the tray she leaned against the door. "You came from the Ninth, right?" Gideon asked, trying to figure out how to broach the topic. "How'd you like it back then?"

Anastas shrugged, "It was okay. I still have my prayer bones, and I still sometimes send off letters. The only one to consistently reply has been Orty," Here Gideon gave a mighty snort, "but that's not too surprising. Most Niner kids don't need to learn their letters, and he adds replies for most everyone still kicking. I know that almost all the other Nav kids died in that bad vent flu that went around. I'm glad at least one of us survived. How... How many others made it?"

Gideon felt a hot flush of shame as she thought back to the Ninth. "I'm not a true Nav kid, Anastas," Gideon admitted in a small voice, suddenly finding her fingernails incredibly interesting. "My mom crashed down the drill shaft in a haz suit with me in a bio container. She wouldn't give the necromancers anything when they pulled her spirit back, just my name, Gideon. They named me after what she said and gave me the last name Nav. I don't have any family, not really."

Anastas laughed, causing Gideon's head to snap up to meet his eyes so fast her neck gave a frightening pop. "My dad was like that," Anastas said by way of explanation. "Most of the Nav kids, you just have to go back 1 or 2 generations and you'll find the beginning of the line. You just don't have any tracing to do. But you're a Nav all the same. You're one of us Gideon Nav. Gideon of the Ninth; cousin."

Gideon felt warmth pooling in her chest at his words. They didn't need blood, they didn't need a traceable link, they were family. "Thanks Anastas, that means, well, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." Gideon said, finally meeting his eyes. "As for the flu, only I survived. Nonagesimus wasn't quite born yet, and everyone else got taken," Gideon said.

Anastas had the look of a man doing numbers in his head before opening his mouth. "Wait a minute, when you say Nonagesimus, do you mean Harrowhark Nonagesimus? The Reverend Daughter, future leader of the Ninth?" Anastas asked, the shock doing strange things to his voice. "That's the girl you left behind that you've been dreaming about?"

Gideon felt her face flushing in rage at the implication, anger causing her jaw to drop just before a call from the guard post interrupted. "Nav, Gideon, you have a visitor, prepare yourself."

Gideon jumped at the voice, shoving her tray out of the way of the door and running her fingers through her hair quickly, trying to make herself presentable before pulling her aviators over her eyes. After another long moment, Anastas opened the door to a truly massive man with dark red hair cropped short. His biceps put Gideon's to shame, and his green eyes looked out of place on his face. "Um, hi?" Gideon ventured, "Can I help you?"

He looked her up and down once, focusing on her hair. "My name is Gideon Pyrrha, I'm the Third Saint to serve the King Undying, one of his Fists and Gestures, an Immortal, and your father," Gideon Nav felt bands tightening around her chest at his name, growing tighter with every word spoken, the last word knocking her back against her cot with shock. "I'm here to take you home."

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #wip wednesday #i don't know if i got the tone quite right with her voice #this is chapter 1 #I've started on chapter 2 #prince gideon au

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roman-is-writing · 10 months

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Veil of Dreams - The Lady of Tales | 1

Summary: The Lady of Tales, also known as Isolde Storyborne, was a librarian in her former life who would tell countless stories to anyone who could listen. This led her to be drawn into the dream realm by a mysterious force. Dream was intrigued by her unique ability to traverse and shape dreams and asked her to be a part of his realm, where her presence could create a delicate balance, influencing and manifesting stories and dreams. This eventually blossomed into a deeper connection. (Dream x Reader)

Characters & Pairing: Dream X Female OC, other The Sandman Characters.

Note: This is my first time ever writing fanfiction on Tumblr, despite reading fanfic since the age of 11. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1: The Librarian's Lullaby

In the quiet town of Eldermoore, nestled between rolling hills and whispering forests, there lived a woman named Isolde Storyborne. As the head librarian of a quiet town's library, she has always been a keeper of stories and would spend her days surrounded by dusty tomes and the hushed whispers of pages turning.

Tucked away on the corner of Elm Street, the library held a special place in the hearts of the townsfolk, and at its centre stood Isolde, a woman with kind eyes that seemed to hold the glimmer of worlds unseen. To the townsfolk, she possessed an innate gift—the ability to breathe life into words, to make stories dance off the pages and into the minds of listeners. Transporting them to daydreams, far-off lands and magical realms.

On cool afternoons, when the sun's golden rays painted patterns on the library floor, Isolde would gather children and adults alike around her. Seated in a circle, they would listen with bated breath as she wove tapestries of adventure, of dragons and daring quests, of love and loss. Her voice, like a soothing lullaby, transported them to realms where anything was possible.

In the quiet corners of the library, the shelves were lined with her favourites as weathered tomes and beautifully illustrated volumes stood side by side, bearing the weight of countless tales. Isolde knew each book intimately, like an old friend with whom she had shared secrets and dreams.

However, it wasn't just the books that held the stories. Isolde herself was a living story, her laughter a melody that echoed through the stacks, her wisdom a beacon that guided those lost in the pages. Her connection to stories was more than a profession; it was a way of life. As she turned the pages of history, she felt as though she had walked through the ages, glimpsing the past through the eyes of those who had lived it.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars blinked into existence, Isolde would often find herself lingering in the library. The quiet solitude was her refuge, a space where she could lose herself in tales both written and whispered by the wind. In those moments, it was as if the library walls expanded, embracing her in a cocoon of stories.

On the other hand, in the realm of the dreamers, where the boundaries between imagination and reality blurred, Dream of the Endless stirred from his contemplation. His eyes, pools of starlight, were drawn to a delicate thread that shimmered with an enchanting resonance—a line that connected him to a new dreamer, one whose connection with stories was unlike any he had encountered before. As Isolde's voice reached its crescendo in the library, her words brushed against the tendrils of dreams that spiralled through the cosmos. Each word was a brushstroke, each sentence a melody that resonated with the essence of creation, so the boundaries of the library seemed to soften, and a bridge formed between the world of stories and the ethereal realm of dreams.

Thus, on a particular evening, Isolde sat by a small window, the soft light of a lamp illuminating the pages of an ancient tome that she was particularly engrossed in. The pages crinkled softly beneath her fingertips as she read a tale of ancient gods and mythical creatures. Her voice, a gentle current in the sea of silence, carried the words of a forgotten legend to her ears and beyond.

Unbeknownst to Isolde, her storytelling had attracted more than just the ears of the few patrons who remained in the library as it had a way of reaching far beyond the library's walls. The presence of Morpheus, ancient and ephemeral, lingered in the shadows. Drawn by the lilting notes of her voice, he liked to observe her from a distance, a silent witness to the magic that unfolded within those hallowed halls.

However, on this faithful night, as Isolde's voice wove its tapestry, a delicate breeze stirred the pages of the book and caressed her cheek, the words coming alive in a way that transcended the ink. Isolde's surroundings seemed blurred, reality giving way and replaced by a dreamscape that defied logic and reason. She felt weightless, suspended between reality and something else entirely as colours shifted like watercolour strokes on canvas, and the very air hummed with the energy of stories untold.

She blinked. Before her stood a figure, tall and enigmatic, his eyes a celestial mosaic reflecting the galaxies of dreams. Isolde recognized him instantly from one of her books — a being of dreams, Dream the Endless himself.

"Welcome, Isolde Storyborne," his voice resonated like the gentle ebb and flow of tides, soothing yet profound.

She stared, her voice momentarily stolen by awe. "Dream? You're… you're Dream?"

"In the realm of dreams, I am known as Morpheus," he acknowledged with a faint smile as Isolde's heart raced, a symphony of emotions swirling within her. "I don't understand. How did I get here?"

"Your words, your stories—they somehow managed to reach beyond the mundane and beckoned you to the realm of dreams," Morpheus explained. "Your connection with stories is unparalleled, a thread that weaves through time and imagination."

Isolde glanced around the dream realm, absorbing its surreal beauty. "So, I'm really here? This isn't just a dream?"

"In a manner of speaking, you are here," Morpheus confirmed. "Your presence has become vital to the delicate balance of the dream realm." At this, Isolde's brows furrowed with curiosity. "What do you mean? What's my role here?"

Morpheus gestured to the ever-shifting landscape. "Your stories, your dreams—they have a profound impact here. Your unique connection has started to influence the very fabric of this realm, shaping dreams and tales alike."

A realization blossomed within Isolde's mind. "I'm a part of the stories?"

"In a sense," Morpheus agreed. "Your role here is both creation and curator, a keeper of tales that shape the dreamscape."

Isolde's heart swelled with wonder and a touch of trepidation. "Why me? Why was I chosen for this?"

Morpheus regarded her with his starlit eyes. "Chosen is a complex word. Your affinity for stories created a bond between your world and this one. By time, your presence became integral to the balance."

Isolde hesitated, her gaze locking onto Morpheus's. "What do you want from me?"

Morpheus extended a hand toward her, an invitation laden with promise. "Stay. Embrace your role as the Lady of Tales and let your connection with stories bring harmony to the Dreaming."

As Isolde met his gaze, the threads of fate seemed to intertwine, binding her past to this ethereal present. The promise of stories untold and dreams uncharted beckoned her, and with a mix of trepidation and exhilaration, she placed her hand in his. A spark of connection passed between them, a bridge between worlds, setting the stage for an extraordinary journey that would bind them in ways neither could have foreseen.

#morpheus #dream of the endless #the sandman #fanfic #fandom #oc #original character #lady of tales

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napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 10 days

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Arthur Wellesley

"So, I saw that you had no propaganda for the Iron Duke himself and thought that should be corrected, because I cannot let this man go unloved.

He is the ultimate sexyman. I don't really get that title or the requirements but I do know this man and he is the ultimate in Regency-era sexiness.

Now, please don't think badly of him for the lack of sexual fidelity. It was the Georgian era. Sexual fidelity was not a part of marriage in high society. Men didn't sleep only with their wives and some wives could be quite happy with that (for one, it's much easier not to have one pregnancy after another when your husband is sleeping with someone else). Not that women weren't also sleeping around. Which brings me to one of Wellington's more… interesting conquests: Lady Caroline Lamb, wife of William Lamb (the future Second Viscount Melbourne and Prime Minister). Why do I know that name, you ask? The OG pixie manic dream girl, Caro's much more notably known for her affair with Lord Byron. After that particular bit of nonsense, she was in Brussels with the rest of the English aristocracy during the 100 Days/post Waterloo. She and the Duke supposedly slept together and she took his cloak away as a souvenir.

Nicolas Charles Oudinot

a. “COLANDERS ARE SEXY THEY HAVE SO MANY HOLES”

#napoleonic sexyman tournament

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Wanda Maximoff/Reader - The One Where You Punch Tony Stark - Part II

Part 1 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Read on AO3 (Complete Work)

Thanks to @gingerbreadcookieforlife for letting me know i did not upload the entire work here.

Summary: When the rumors that you punched Tony Stark in the face spread around your school, some interesting events unfolded. Or enemies to Lovers in high School.

Warnings: 18+; Enemies to Lovers; Angry Sex; Underage Sex; High School AU; Violence; Fights; Inappropriate language; Fluff and Smut; minor mentions of Reader x Carol and Reader x Jessica Jones.

Notes: This work was already finished on AO3, but i forgot to continue this on Tumblr. I hope everyone who thought that was a one shot, enjoy the rest of it.

//-//

Sometimes is just a kiss

The news that Steve Rogers and Tony Stark kissed behind the bleachers spread quickly through the school. And it was only 10 o'clock on a Monday morning.

You had no idea who had spread the rumor around the campus, but knowing your luck, you were just waiting for the bomb to drop in your lap.

Besides, you hadn't spoken to Wanda since you gave her an orgasm against the walls of a locker room. You saw her briefly in the hallway between history and biology class, but she looked away quickly, and you rolled your eyes without patience.

It had been good sex, and you repeated that it was just that. Sex. That it shouldn't have happened, mainly because you were incompatible, and there were too many social barriers between you.

You should have known that Wanda would not break the expectations they had of her, to stay as someone as broken as you.

Closing the locker with more force than necessary, you walked out toward the history room.

Taking your place in the last chair by the window, you sit down as you wait for the class to begin. You have about five minutes of peace before an angry Tony Stark enters the room and walks toward you pointing his finger in your face in a threatening manner.

- I told you to mind your own business.

- What have I done to deserve this, Lord. - You grumble without patience, ignoring Stark completely. He lets out an angry exclamation and punches the table, making you jump with surprise.

- You'll pay for this, bitch. I'm going to-

You cut off his speech by pulling his hair and forcing his head against the table in a blow that makes a loud noise. He staggers back, shocked that he has been hit again. The room erupts in a hubbub and someone holds Tony back to stop him from jumping on you.

You stand up, gathering your notebooks, seeing that the history teacher was already signaling for you to talk to the counselor.

- You never learn, Stark. - You sneer, taking one last look at the boy's bloody nose before you leave the room, most of your classmates laughing.

- I'm so angry with you right now. - said your mother as soon as you both left the school. You didn't respond, walking with your hands in your pockets to the car. She started mumbling to herself, and only when you had been in the car a few minutes did she speak to you again.

- And the worst of it is that you hit my boss's son!

You let out a wry laugh as you looked out the car window at the view.

- I doubt very much that Howard Stark knows any of his employees, Mother.

- It doesn't matter. - she retorted, turning the wheel. You watched the landscape change as you turned the corner.

- At least I didn't get expelled. - You commented, your mother let out a wry laugh.

- Suspension is not a good thing! - she replies in an irritated tone. - And I even had to miss my shift to come get you. I honestly didn't raise you for that.

- That's the point, isn't it? - You retorted angrily, finally turning to face your mother. - Did you ever raise me? Last time I checked, I've been raising myself for a long time.

Your mother assumes a disapproving expression, denying it with her head. You throw yourself back on the seat with your arms crossed.

- You've always been so unfair, you know. - She begins. - Who's picking you up from school now, huh? And who puts a roof over your head? Food on your plate? You raised yourself, that's a joke.

She grumbles again, but you just ignore it, shutting yourself off from your surroundings.

You barely register when the car pulls up in front of your house, startled when your mother slams the car door as you get out. You take off your seat belt, and step out.

- You are grounded, three months. - she says, and you just nod. It's not as if she was present enough to know where you were going anyway. - And you are going to help your aunt in the store while you are suspended.

You let out a protesting grunt.

- Really, there's nothing worse for me to do? - You ask, throwing yourself on the sofa in the living room, your mother giggles.

- Weren't you the one who was thinking that suspension is better than expulsion? Well, you're not going to be sitting around this week. - She said as she left her purse on the kitchen table, and walked towards the small office table in the corner of the room. - Now go to your room, I'm working from home today.

You roll your eyes, getting up. Dragging your feet to your room, you slam the door as you enter, throwing yourself against your bed.

You hope Tony Stark's nose is hurting.

You are very surprised to see Natasha Romanoff enter your aunt's mercenary, shortly after school hours. She smiles at you with amusement, walking over to the counter.

- Wow, interesting look. - She jokes, commenting on the blue uniform combined with a sailor's hat that your aunt makes her three employees wear. You laugh at Nat.

- How can I help you, ma'am? - You asked in an amused tone, she leaned her arms on the counter.

- I'm looking for a fighting dog. Do you sell these here?

You laugh at the insinuation. And then a customer enters the store, Nat moves aside for you to attend to a lady buying tomato sauce and noodles, and then as you check out, she speaks again.

- You caused a fuss at school with your fight. - She remarks, and you just grumble, counting the money. - By the way, how did you find out about Rogers and Stark's secret affair?

You shrug, smiling. - I saw them kissing the night of the game. Stark freaked out, by the way, typical.

Nat laughed, and began to look around the store. - It is nice here. I didn't know you worked.

- It's my aunt's. - You say, finally finishing counting the money in the cash register. - And I worked at the junkyard on Avenue Two until last year.

- Aren't you going to tell me that you were fired for fighting? - Nat teased, making you laugh.

- No, I asked to quit. - So you say. - I wanted a quiet senior year.

Nat nods, and walks around the store, stopping at the magazine section. You see three more customers before she returns.

- I have to get home before my mother freaks out. - She announced as soon as she reached the counter. You nodded. - But I want to know if you want to do something with me?

- I thought you had a boyfriend. - You joked, and Nat rolled her eyes humorously.

- Don't be a smartass.

You laugh.

- I will be helping out in the store during this week. - You say. - Because of the suspension. I leave at seven.

Nat nodded, assuming a contemplative expression for a moment.

- Do you know where Avengers' Bar is? Three blocks past the municipal hospital?

You nod, smiling.

- Sure, Nat. - You say. - I've already driven past it.

- Why haven't you ever gone inside? I'm always there.

- I wasn't in that area to drink. - You remark with a suggestive smile, and Nat just laughs and rolls her eyes.

- Well, I'll be there on Wednesday. Some colleagues from State are playing there. - She says, and writes down a phone number on one of the papers on the counter. - Text me if you're going to show up.

- Are you sure it's not a date? - You joke and Nat just winks at you before you leave. You keep her number in your uniform pocket.

Even from outside, you could hear the music from the bar muffled against the windows.

Avengers's Bar was a popular place in town, but only for a certain kind of people. Mainly frequented by punks, bikers, and artists, it was exactly the kind of place you liked but should avoid. With its history of fights, it wasn't exactly the kind of place you went to anymore.

A dark-haired girl in metal-working attire smiled at you from the doorway, looking at you mischievously as you walked through the door. You just nodded slightly.

Inside, you looked around for Natasha and her friends, but with the amount of people in the bar, it wasn't so easy to find them.

- Y/N! - shouted Thor when he spotted you in the crowd. You smiled, walking over to where he was standing. - We're on the top floor, Nat got a table. Come on, I just came to get some drinks.

You followed him to the bar, and helped him carry the drinks for the others. You didn't recognize any of the drinks they were making there, so you decided to just drink from everyone's glass, which made Thor laugh.

- Look who I found. - announced Thor as soon as you two arrived at the table. The group smiled when they saw you, and you greeted everyone with a kiss on the cheek and sat down next to Nat.

- We heard that you were suspended. - commented Clint, but he seemed almost proud. You shrugged awkwardly.

- She wasn't content to just punch Stark, she also slammed the bastard's head against the table! - Said Natasha excitedly, and the group laughed. You laughed half embarrassed, as you took a sip of the pink drink Nat had ordered.

They started talking about some scandal that happened at the federal school, and you did your best to react to it, not really knowing who the people they were talking about were. And then Valkyrie let out an exclamation, as if she had spotted someone, and stood up. A very pretty girl approached, smiling and hugging Valkyrie.

- I'm glad you could make it, Carol. - Valkyrie said the girl who waved to everyone. When you looked closely, you finally recognized her. Carol Danvers was an ex-student of your high school, having graduated last year. She used to be very popular, and you noticed the military silver necklace around her neck.

Carol sat down next to Valkyrie, and the two of them seemed so close that you thought maybe they were dating.

When the show started, everyone exclaimed with excitement, quickly getting up and walking to the stage area. You smiled as Nat dragged you by the hand, liking the feeling of having friends.

The band was surprisingly good, and you danced with excitement, feeling the alcohol make you lively and loose. You were surprised when Carol began to dance with you, her hands on your waist.

She was very attractive, so you didn't mind her kissing you. And you pushed away the feeling that she wasn't the person you wanted. When she pulled you into the bathroom, her hands roaming over you as she tugged off your clothes, you ignored every part of your body screaming that this was wrong. When she made you cum, you bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming Wanda's name.

Your suspension was finally over, and you gave the key to the store back to your aunt before you went to school.

You tried not to think about it too much, about how many college opportunities you had missed with that stain on your record. But if you were honest, you didn't even know if you wanted to go to college anymore. Every day the possibility of buying a motorcycle and traveling aimlessly getting closer to your real calling.

Many people stared at you when you arrived at school. The vast majority didn't even bother to look away. You rolled your eyes impatiently, reaching into your jacket pockets as you walked through the main doors.

You were slightly startled when Jessica Jones approached you in your locker, but you smiled awkwardly, taking off your headphones.

- Girl, you are a legend! - she said excitedly, pushing you lightly by the shoulders against the lockers. She stood close, and you thought maybe that was flirting. - By the way, I didn't have your number to text you.

She took a pen from her bag, and grabbed your hand, writing down her own number while flashing you a mischievous smile.

- Text me, let's do something this week. - She says as she lets go of your hand. You blink slightly, and nod, a little awkwardly. Jessica doesn't seem to notice, and smiles, leaving afterwards.

You hear a whistle, and Nat looks at you with curiosity.

- You are stealing hearts, huh. - She teases, and you feel your face heat up, still surprised by the whole interaction. - By the way, are you and Carol on a real thing?

- What? - you ask in surprise. - No, I don't think so. It was just sex in a concert restroom, Natasha. I don't think she even knew my name. - You remark as you turn toward the redhead. She laughs, finishing putting her books away.

- Actually she asked me for your number. - She says, and you look at her in surprise. - But then I see you with Jones, and I have to admit, it's a tough choice. - Nat teases, making you laugh. You start walking down the hall together, walking towards the classrooms. You think Nat has said something about the show, but your attention is elsewhere. As you walk past Wanda and Peter Maximoff, everything seems to slow down, you notice the slight flush on Wanda's cheeks when her gaze meets yours, and you both hold your breath as you walk past each other. But the next second everything is as it was before, and you sigh, focusing your attention on Nat.

When you arrive in the literature room, you are happy to know that Nat sits next to you.

You hate the cafeterias. So when Nat invites you to join her at the outside tables you think it's the best lunch you have ever had.

The outside courtyard is relatively less crowded than the other places in the school, and you are in the middle of a discussion about the new TV series that launched over the weekend, when Nat signals to something behind you.

Coming out of the school, and heading towards the table where you were standing, was Sharon Carter, accompanied by her pet friend, Pepper Potts. And you really thought you could have a quiet lunch.

- To what do I owe the honor, Carter? - you asked ironically as they reached your table.

- You stay away from my boyfriend. - She spoke in a serious tone, and before you could say anything, she tipped the glass of soda she held over your head.

You felt your whole body boil with irritation and you stood up abruptly, seeing red. But Natasha tugged on your forearm, whispering something about your suspension. Sharon and Pepper seemed to be slightly startled by your posture, but they let out a wry chuckle and went back inside the school.

You tugged on Nat's arm, then left the courtyard and headed for the changing rooms. You needed a cold shower to calm yourself down, or you would do something that would surely cause your expulsion.

Since the athletic games period had not yet started, the gym locker room was empty. You sighed with relief as you found your spare change of clothes in your locker.

Walking toward the bathroom stalls, you quickly undressed, and stepped into the shower, letting the cold water wash all the soda and anger from your body.

Leaning your head against the wall, you let out a sigh, thinking about all the shit that was going on in your life in less than two weeks. And then your mind went back to Wanda, and you let out a breathless groan, laughing humorlessly. The cold water didn't help to chill the new heat that settled under your stomach. You turned off the shower, then stepped out to put on your clothes.

On your way out of the locker room, you saw something you would rather not have seen. The universe seemed to be testing your anger today.

Wanda was being pressed against the wall of the indoor bleachers, which at that time was empty and perfect for those who wanted to make out in a secluded spot. It was a tall boy, but you couldn't see his face, which was buried in Wanda's neck, kissing her. And then she opened her eyes, and looked straight at you. You saw him pull down his pants and enter her, and she moaned with her mouth ajar, without taking her eyes off you. She had a gleam in her eyes that made your whole body tremble.

You gripped the strap of your purse tightly, controlling the impulse to go over and beat the boy until he passed out, and spun on your feet, walking out the back door.

Fucking day, you thought as you walked back to school.

Eventually, you thanked Nat for keeping you from hitting Sharon. She shrugged, saying that she didn't want you to be expelled now that you were becoming friends, and you tried not to be too happy about it.

On Wednesday, Carol Danvers showed up at the door of the school on a motorcycle. This is sure to be a long-lasting gossip, you thought as you and Nat greeted her on the way out. Several students looked at you, many of them impressed by Carol's motorcycle, others impressed to see her back at school, but the vast majority trying to ask how you knew her.

- What's up, Danvers? - You say to her with a slight nod. Carol looks at you as if she wants to undress you right there, but you have your gaze on her motorcycle, attentive to the details of the vehicle.

- Hey, pretty girl. - She answers while leaning against the vehicle.

- Jesus, you are not even seeing me. - Nat teases and Carol just laughs, giving her a kiss on the cheek. - Tell me, what brings you back to your beloved school?

- I came to say hello. - says Carol. - And to invite you both to a concert on Saturday.

- And you didn't text me because you missed me. - Nat rebuts in a provocative tone, Carol smiles, and then looks at you, before confirming. You don't really know what to say.

- If the music is good, I'm in. - You joke and Nat agrees. Carol takes two tickets out of her pocket and hands them to you.

- I'll pick you up, okay? - She offers it to you. You think about refusing, without really knowing why. But you nod in agreement before you can think about it too much.

- Okay, lovebirds. I'll leave you two alone because I'm starting to get the urge to puke. - Nat jokes one last time, before heading out toward the parking lot. You imagine that she will use the break time to smoke a bit.

You shift your weight between your feet before turning your gaze back to Carol.

- I was surprised to hear that you asked Nat for my number. - You comment, and Carol smiles.

- I like to talk to pretty girls. - She says, and you roll your eyes humorously at the flirtation. She laughs, biting her lips, and you allow her to rest her hands on your waist, perhaps too low.

- Are you looking for something serious, Danvers? - you ask with a slight irony. Carol looks at you in mild surprise.

- You don't think it has anything to do with me, do you?

- Sorry, the motorcycle and the leather jacket gave you away. - You respond humorously. - I get it, because it's my game.

Carol laughs.

- I'm enjoying our time together. - she confesses. - But I'll be back at the station in a few weeks. I can't make any promises.

You nod, without really being bothered by it. Carol is not the one you wanted to be with. And to push those thoughts away, you kiss her. She smiles, deepening the kiss slightly. You think she squeezed your ass, but you're not really paying attention.

And then you break apart, and she smiles at you.

- I'll see you Saturday, right? - she asks, and you nod, letting her kiss you one last time.

When she finally starts the motorcycle and drives away, you notice the mischievous and suggestive looks you receive.

And you try not to let your anger peak, but then you notice Stark's group in the corner of the school, laughing openly. You'll need to walk past them to get inside, and you really hope that none of them will test your patience.

- Hey weirdo, who was your girlfriend? - shouts Tony Stark. You know, you really think maybe he is brain damaged. His friends laugh at the joke, and you think you will ignore it, but then he shouts again. - I'm talking to you, dyke!

He throws something at you, missing you by inches. You watch the red liquid run down in front of your feet.

You think, this is it. This is how I'm going to get expelled. By sticking a straw in Tony Stark's eye. You wondered if prison life was worth it.

But then the laughter died down in the next second, and you watched Tony turn pale.

- Mr. Stark, please come with me. - A male voice sounded behind you. The school principal was a scary man, and he was hardly ever seen outside his classroom. He never witnessed his students' conflicts, and Fury never bothered him with such matters. Tony's paleness was understandable.

- P-Professor Thanos, I don't...

- Now. - says the man finally, and Tony stiffens his jaw as he follows him. He gave you an angry look before leaving.

The buzz started as soon as they entered the school, but you didn't really pay attention to anyone. Ignoring the middle finger Steve Rogers threw at you, you went back inside the school.

Tony Stark was punished with detention. You rolled your eyes when the rumor reached you. They had also said that his father refused to pick him up and that the driver was the one who talked to Fury. You would have sympathy for Stark if he wasn't a complete imbecile.

You had chemistry again, and you really weren't in the mood to see Wanda, but you had no choice.

And then Professor Agatha was feeling particularly inspired today, and decided to switch lab partners. You ended up on the same bench as Darcy Lewis and Pietro Maximoff, you being the only trio due to the odd number of students. You sighed against your bad luck.

The experiment that Mrs. Harkness performed was not difficult, but it could be dangerous if you didn't pay attention. So you just listened to Darcy's instructions, and everything was working out fine. Then Pietro Maximoff decided that his attention was better placed on a girl sitting behind him, and started flirting. Darcy rolled her eyes, smiling at you.

In the blink of an eye, you heard a scream of pain. Pietro had forgotten the limits of the counter itself, and stretching his arms most likely to impress the girl behind you, he slammed his hand against the chemical glass jar behind him. Darcy stepped back to avoid being hit, but you were quick to help Pietro, pulling his arm into the sink on the counter, turning on the faucet as you hurried to get as much of the acidic liquid off his skin as possible.

Pietro sighed with relief, probably feeling the pain disappear as you rubbed the soap into his skin. He was extremely surprised, as was the rest of the room.

- Very efficient reaction, Miss Y/L/N. - commented Ms. Harkness as she approached you, holding a cloth to dry Pietro. - I'll add an extra point to your average for that. Mr. Maximoff, please go to the infirmary.

Pietro wrapped the cloth around his injured hand, and looked at you with a mixture of hesitation and confusion in his eyes, but he nodded in thanks.

Harkness asked someone to call the janitor to clean up the shards, and then continued the class. You found it hard to concentrate when you noticed Wanda's gaze on you.

Jessica Jones kisses you against the wall of the second floor locker room.

You exchanged a few messages, mostly innocent jokes. And then Jessica said she had something amazing to show you, and when you met her after third period, in the not-so-isolated locker room, she pushed you up against the wall and kissed you on the mouth.

Jessica tasted like coke and something sweet, and she likes to bite.You had to remind yourself that you were kissing someone while you were doing it, not feeling connected to her really.

And then two girls came into the bathroom giggling and she let you go.

- Sorry for the scare. - She joked, her lips swollen. You shrugged, smiling slightly.

- What inspired you to do this? - you teased, putting your hands on her waist.

- You of course. Punching assholes and saving people. It's hot. - She says and then she checks her cell phone. - Damn, I have chemistry now. I can't be late.

She steals a kiss from you and quickly leaves. You blink, not really understanding what has happened.

As you go downstairs, you realize that the cheerleading squad is coming out of the locker room, and Sharon and Potts give you a death stare as you walk past them. And then, as you pass through the door to the women's dressing room, you hesitate. All your logic tells you to go on your way, but then your feet are turning and you walk into the dressing room, looking around.

You let out a sigh as you find who you were looking for. Wanda is changing clothes, wearing only her cheer skirt, and a bra. Your intimacy pulsates with the image. Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation at seeing you there, but then she lets out a mischievous smile, and continues undressing.

Slowly, she lets the skirt slide down her thighs. You bite your lower lip hard as it falls to the floor.

And then two other cheerleaders come out of one of the aisles behind you, and the giggles die down when they see you. One of the girls turns to Wanda:

- Is this girl bothering you, Wandy? - she asks in a honeyed voice.

- And what are you, a watchdog? - You retort before Wanda can answer. The girl gives you a death glare. - Mind your own business, nosy.

The other girl approaches you, looking at you with disdain. - We don't like street trash here. Why don't you go back to your junkyard?

You swallowed dryly, trying to control your anger. The smaller girl giggled, and you looked at Wanda, who looked in shock, before you stormed out of the dressing room slamming the door.

You knew you shouldn't do that, but your feet dragged you out into the field of trailers.

You walked a long way until you arrived. And when you entered the courtyards, many of the residents looked at you with a frown. But you ignore them, as you walk between the houses. You knock hard on the door of one of the trailers farthest away. It takes a moment before a tall, muscular boy answers it.

He lets out a wry laugh when he sees you.

- Visiting old friends? - He teases, you don't smile.

- I need to break something, Erik. - You say simply, and he sighs. And then he closes the door, and you walk together in the opposite direction, out of the trailer park.

You have known Erik Killmonger since kindergarten. His life wasn't exactly the easiest. You used to hang out together in high school, but then Erik started getting into a lot of fights, and it was rumored that he joined a gang. He didn't tell you anything, and when you asked, he told you to mind your own business. And then, in the second year, he was expelled for breaking the jaw of Johann Schmidt, one of the seniors at the school. You remember never seeing Erik so angry. But you never knew the reason for the fight. And then he drifted away, and even though you missed him, you didn't push him.

- Here it is. - Erik said as you reached an abandoned area a few feet beyond the trailers. He handed you a wooden stick, and you took a deep breath before you started smashing through the abandoned objects there, most of them junk.

- Fuck that fucking school. - You shouted as you hit a bottle, the glass splattering through the air. Erik just stood at a safe distance, his hands in his pockets. - Fuck Tony Stark. - You shouted, a wooden box shattering with the blow of your bat. And then you noticed a tall dead tree trunk a few yards away, and you stepped forward, aggressively slamming your bat several times against the tree. - Fuck Wanda Maximoff. - And the staff shattered with the force of your blow. You let out a sigh, throwing the object to the ground, as you sat down down on the grass.

Erik walked over to you, and he said nothing about the tears streaming down your face.

- Do you want to talk about it? - he asked as he sat down beside you. You nodded in denial.

- I want you to tell me something about yourself. - You said, wiping your face.

- Um, let me think. - He says, putting his arms behind him and leaning back, he looks relaxed. - My mother is in town.

You turn your head to him in surprise. He smiles.

- Yes, I know, that's nice. - He comments. - But I won't get my hopes up. She could leave at any moment.

- I hope she stays. - You say.

- So do I.

You stand there in silence for a moment, then Erik stands up, then offers his hand to help you stand. You sigh and accept.

- Let's get something to eat, you're paying. - He says, causing you to smile ironically.

You end up at one of the dinner stands across the main road from the trailer park. You buy Erik a hamburger and fries, but you decide to just have a milkshake.

- This is all about a girl, isn't it? - he asks after a while, and you almost deny it. But you just shrug your shoulders in agreement, taking a sip of your milkshake. - Is it someone I know?

- Maybe. - you say, and Erik frowns humorously. He eats some chips, assuming a thoughtful expression.

- That's hard, I've never seen you paying attention to anyone at school. - he says. - What about that redheaded girl in the locker next to yours?

You laugh and nod your head in denial. Erik smiles, thinking again.

- What about that girl in your chemistry class? The one you said was smart?

- Darcy? - You ask and he confirms, you just smile. - No, I wish. Darcy would be less complicated.

Erik laughs, and then pushes the rest of the potatoes to you.

- Why don't you just tell me? - he asks, but his tone is not accusatory, just provocative.

- Because I don't want to admit it. - You confess, accepting the potatoes. It takes a moment, and then you speak. - I think I'm falling in love with Wanda Maximoff.

You don't look at Erik, fearing his reaction. But then he lets out a sigh, and drags his hand across the table, offering it to you. You accept, and he holds your hand warmly.

- You, my friend, are totally screwed. - He teases, making you laugh. - But keep calm. Passions go away as fast as they come.

You nod, squeezing his hand before letting go. You eat in silence, and you can't help but think how much you missed him.

Debates test your patience. And as if that weren't irritating enough, you still share this class with Wanda.

You don't look at her when you enter the room, but you feel her gaze on you. Throwing yourself on the last chair in the room, you stand with your headphones on and sink your head into your arms on the desk, wishing for the school year to end soon.

When Professor Hill enters the room, you are surprised that one of your classmates nudges you to warn you, and you smile in appreciation as you straighten your posture and put your cell phone away.

- I hope you have read the book I asked for, children. - She announces as she puts her bag on the table, and walks to the front of the cabinet, leaning against the wood as she looks around the room. - We will discuss it in class today.

The room lets out a chorus of displeasure, but the teacher lets out a chuckle. Her debates were famous for ending up in heated discussions, plus they made up about fifty percent of the grade. If you didn't say anything, you had to write a report of the discussions.

The teacher took a copy of the book from her purse, and held it with both hands.

- "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man, possessing a good fortune, must be in need of a wife." - She read, walking around the room. - Who can tell me what the line implies about women?

- It's the old-fashioned way of saying that women prefer rich guys. - Steve Rogers sneered, drawing giggles from his teammates in the room. Mrs. Hill, however, just sighed with disappointment.

- No, Mr. Rogers. - she said, cutting off the laughter immediately. - If you have no intention of participating seriously in the debate, I suggest you remain silent.

Steve let out a lame laugh, shrugged, and whispered something to his tablemate. You rolled your eyes impatiently, resting your face in your hand. And then you watched Wanda Maximoff raise her arm up.

- Yes, Wanda? - nodded Mrs. Hill waiting for the answer.

- I think it's about a reaffirmation of the status of the man. As if the woman is a trophy to prove his status and position. - She says. - It objectifies women completely.

You blinked, slightly impressed. Wanda was always smart, after all. But then the boys in class giggled, and the redhead seemed to shrug her shoulders. Professor Hill, however, smiled at her.

- Interesting position, Miss Maximoff. - she said, and walked back around the room. - Let's talk a little about the main romance of the book. - She says, and looks reproachfully quickly at two boys who are whispering, and they fall silent. - I'd like to know what you think about Elizabeth and Darcy's relationship, and how we can bring the book's issues into our current society. Do you believe that the same prejudices are faced today?

The room explodes into excitement, and you feel like going home. Mrs. Hill looks around, and waves to calm the students.

- Please, class. Raise your hand who believes that Elizabeth and Darcy would easily marry today?

The vast majority of the students raise their hands. And someone makes a comment that they would get laid on the first date, and many laugh. You play with your pencil, twirling it on your finger, and then feel a light elbow on your arm. Your classmate nods her head forward, and you blink in confusion, realizing that Ms. Hill has called your attention.

- I'm sorry, Mrs. Hill. What is it? - you ask, straightening your posture. She smiles tenderly.

- I asked why you didn't raise your hand. - She repeats. - Could you share with the class your position?

You let out a sigh, thinking about it. And then you lean back in your chair, putting your hands in your pockets, and trying not to get intimate with the stares in the room.

- I really don't understand how everyone here can say that we no longer have social rules for relationships. - You say. - If Darcy and Elizabeth were from the present day, the prejudices portrayed in the books would only be different, but they would still be there. We have many ways of forbidding people to relate to each other, even in this school.

- Interesting. Please continue. - the teacher said, leaning back against her desk. You let out a sigh, trying to organize your opinion into words.

- I can give an example of how we divide the social groups around here. - you say. - It's not like the jocks are seen hanging out with the kids in the theater. Elizabeth would definitely be one of the smart girls, and Darcy would be the dumb brat. Sort of like a Tony Stark.

The room erupted in giggles, and you watched Steve Rogers lock his jaw, commenting something to his classmate. Professor Hill gave you a warning look, beckoning the class to be quiet.

- So you believe that Darcy and Elizabeth would not be together in the present days? - she asks you, and you shrug.

- I don't think Darcy would break the expectations people have of him for Elizabeth. - You state. - And besides, she can do better than that.

Some students laughed at your comment, and Mrs. Hill smiled at you. And then she asked if anyone had a different opinion, and you were slightly surprised to see Wanda raise her hand again.

- I think they would end up together. - She says. - They are really in love, and just like in the book, I think Darcy just needs time to understand everything, and to build up some courage.

- And Elizabeth should expect him to have some guts, then? - You cut Wanda off. The room looks at you in surprise, and Wanda turns in her chair, a look of mixed defiance and surprise, but you don't back away. - While he decides whether she is worth it, should she just wait around?

- Elizabeth needs to understand that Darcy also has his own issues. - Wanda retorts. - That it's not easy to let go of all the expectations people place on you.

You laugh lightly with irony.

- Of course Darcy would be quite comfortable keeping Elizabeth waiting. - You say with mild irritation. - Besides, Elizabeth is also going through a lot. She deserves to have someone who chooses her.

- That's not what we're arguing about. - Wanda replies. - No one is questioning Elizabeth's worth. I'm saying that they would be together, but that they need time.

- And I'm saying that Darcy has to stop being such a gutless pussy and make a decision soon. Elizabeth is not going to pause her life just to wait for him.

- She would do that if she really liked Darcy. - Retorts the redhead, you blink in disbelief.

You think the room held its breath with your debate with Wanda, and you would have continued if the teacher hadn't interrupted.

- Okay, I think we're getting a little nervous. - She cut in, and you blinked awkwardly, stopping to look at Wanda. The room murmured quietly again as Wanda turned back to face the front. - Thank you for your opinions, ladies. Now let's move on, who can offer a reflection on marriage in the book?

The class continued for a while, but you completely disconnected. Your heart was racing and you realized that the discussion you had was not about Darcy or Elizabeth. Wanda was asking you to wait for her. And you felt a strong urge to punch something. And then you focused your attention completely on the literature report, ignoring the debate completely.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wandamaximoffxreader #wandavision #wanda #wandamaximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x dom!reader #The One Where You Punch Tony Stark #enemies to lovers #high school

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sparkledfirecracker · 3 years

Text

Deeds For The Big Screen

I see writing as a form of creative artwork with everyone having its own liking or preference to it.

Do not interact if you are uncomfortable with any of the given warnings or if you are a minor.

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, proceed to read with care. Warnings have been up and mentioned, if I missed any please feel free to let me know.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, explicit language, sexwork, porn industry, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, oral receiving (f), swearing

Rating: explicit

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You’re taking power into your hands when your actors don’t seem to do their job and are wasting expensive production time.

Word count: 3006

A/N: This might be a little rusty, I haven’t done this in a while, but some creators have inspired me to pick up writing again! Fairly new to Tumblr, despite having an account for years and having done zero with it. Apparently me dreaming about different story ideas has become a thing now. So bear with me here. As said; if I missed any warnings please feel free to let me know.

@punani ’s ‘The Fluffer’ was inspiration for the chosen work field. So thank you for writing that magnificent piece.

English is not my native language; my grammar mistakes are purely my own. Constructive criticism is allowed and appreciated, I won’t bite unless you’re being rude.

I do not consent to have my work copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been reposted without my permission or consent. By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old!!!

Please do feel free to comment, like or reblog.

ENJOY!!!

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Deeds For The Big Screen

Irritation bubbling underneath your annoyed expression, your lips tightly pressed together. Fingernails tapping aggressively on the armrests of your director’s chair. Your legs crossed, bouncing with frustration at the sight in front of you. It seemed liked the actors onsite were on a mission to make everyone’s life on set hell. Your hands grabbing the armrests your knuckles white from the intense grip of the edges of your chair.

You were a visionaire, adultery was your passion, you had been in the business for year before starting your own company. Focusing on the female friendlier porn demand had paid of well for you, your company was your pride and you thrived on the success. You ran a tight ship, time was money and currently both actors were wasting every second of it. The current creative project was not being envisioned at all. It had been meticulously drawn out on a storyboard, it seemed like everything that had been discussed and rehearsed was thrown out the window.

You let out an annoyed huff, it had been hours on end anything between action and cut. Your million-dollar superstar was propped on his elbows towering over the fragile body underneath him. His hips franticly pumping in and out of the actress underneath him, who was clawing her nails into his skin desperately. Was he really the problem or was it the useless woman caged underneath him. Her super loud moans that probably could be heard at the other side of the world and the quantity of clawing at his skin.

“CUT!!!” you yelled and everyone in the production stopped, heavy sighs heard across the studio. Your hands rubbed your face slightly not wanting to yell or lose control of the raging thoughts running through your mind.

“What’s wrong this time?” your most prized possession asked, the annoyance clearly dripping of his tone. He stood up facing you, his hands falling to his hips, sticking out his chest while his thick muscle stood proud against his pelvis. You couldn’t help but take in the sight, his cock was red and he was painfully hard. You licked your lips and took in a deep breath, trying to refocus on your thoughts.

“Alright let me make myself very clear here. The crew is TIRED and I am tired of fucking repeating myself” you took another deep breath as you felt anger rising “was I not clear enough when we had a table read yesterday and when we rehearsed this morning?” your eyes switching between the actors. No response “An answer would be nice, because that storyboard on the wall contains every movement of where body parts go during every fucking scene”

“Get the fuck out Y/N, you know storyboards only contains the major outlines of a grand story being told, it is different when you are pumping in and out of a body you know. You don’t always get to choose where a hand, leg or cock lands”

“Ari, we are in the god forsaken porn industry, that thick throbbing dick better end up in the fucking dripping vagina, between her lips or even in that nice and tight puckered hole” you could hear a few supressed snickers from the crew. Ari just kept staring you down “Right now all I see is stiffness, no passion, no fire and absolutely nothing that was on the fucking board or script”

“Whatever Y/N” Ari huffed, you rolled your eyes breaking the tension that was clearly building between you and Ari. You turned your gaze to Edie, who just sat there uncomfortably.

“Edie, can you just tone down on the moans, I know this is your first gig and a step up from the amateur adultery films you have done, but we are not in the cheap kind of porn. This is exclusive, sensual and soft sex. We make porn for the ladies and if it happens that men love it too so be it-” you clapped your hands together trying to get through to the actors in front of you “Also ease up on your facial expressions too they are just too much and stop clawing at Ari, we are not feral wolves in the outskirts of woodsy valley…” you pointed at her, the hostility evident in your voice, she just nodded your way she almost looked too scared to speak. Your attention turned to Ari, just by looking at him you knew he wouldn’t be able to take a lot more of your antics “-And for you mister, I need more open posture. We want to see those muscles work underneath that toned skin of yours. Flex them a little, you want the person watching this to drool from their mouths while their vaginas or arseholes are begging for your majestic cock. Yes, we can do this all rough and tough, but with this project we want fire, passion and mind-blowing sex. Understood?”

Both pornstars nodded your way and you sat back down in your chair. The actors taking their spots again, you raised your hand, cues being called across the room.

“ACTION!” Edie tried her utter best to contain her excessive sounds, but she looked like she was about to take a dump “CUT!”

“Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ari yelled, jumping of the small platform, grabbing his robe from the floor, storming your way while putting on his robe, you got off your chair.

“Is it really that hard to do what I am asking? Edie you look like you are about to take a dump right in front of the camera” you lost control of the anger that had been boiling inside of you. Ari bumped into you, almost knocking you down, it must have been on purpose as you could sense his anger “where the fuck do you think you are going?” he spun on his heels

“I have been edged for hours on end, I need some form of release and it looks like our director is not going to let us get any release for a few more hours” Ari spat your way

“GET BACK HERE!!” you definitely lost control, watching Ari on a mission to march out of the studio “ARI I SAID GET BACK HERE”

“I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING A DOG!!!”

“YOU ARE MY FUCKING TOP DOLLAR DOG, SO YOU BETTER GET THE FUCK BACK BEFORE I FIRE YOU MYSELF” it was true, Ari was your million-dollar star, your company couldn’t have grown without him. He had been there from the beginning, you had him to thank for the success of your company and in return he had you to thank for his stardom.

Your words had made Ari stop in his tracks and turn around, the temperature in the room increasing quickly. You had started to doubt if the room had been that hot the entire time or if it was the arousal creeping through your veins caused by Ari’s deep angered gaze.

He charged your way his finger pointing at you and his mouth was moving, but your hearing seemed to have vanished. You contemplated if you should just show them what you meant or just call it a day. Things were getting heated and the crew was already exhausted enough. Your thoughts interrupted as your mouth started to speak.

“Do I really have to do everything around here?” you muttered under your breath “Edie get off the sunbed and put your robe on” she complied to your order, getting of the stage and putting on her silk robe. You took a moment to analyse your thought, to see if the voice inside your head would protest of what you were contemplating. Nothing came to mind, so instead you unbuttoned your sundress quickly before regretting your decision “Last attempt to film this guys, start rolling. Ari off with the robe, we start from the beginning. Edie take notes” you ordered around the room. Your sundress and underwear falling off your frame piling up next to your director’s chair.

“What are you doing baby girl?” Ari whispered in your ear as you walked backwards his hands holding your hips guiding you towards the double sunbed. His anger seemed to have disappeared and replaced with intrigue.

“Showing you what I want, but mostly taking what I need right now” you replied, he quirked an eyebrow, a smirk plastered on his face in approval “Let’s give them the show they want”

“The show you want” Ari chuckled as he corrected you, before narrowing his eyes a little “The big boss in action, I like it…” Ari whispered as he took in your naked body “I like it a lit” His confident spoken words made you a little insecure, but you hid it well trying to hold your nerves together.

You climbed on the sunbed laying back, your eyes wandered over Ari’s toned chest, his cock aching, your pussy throbbing. You licked your lips and the muscles in your core tightened with the exciting thought of him filling you up to the brim in a matter of minutes, you being at his complete mercy.

“ACTION!” you yelled

Ari crawled on top of you, your hands roamed freely over his arms and chest, his lips crashing on yours briefly before moving on to your neck and your upper torso. Your hands finding their way onto his shoulders, caressing the bare skin. You arched your back at the delight feeling when he sucked on your nipples, a low moan left your lips. Ari’s hands cradling your frame as he peppered kisses further south.

Your eyes following him, he looked back at you through his long lashes as two of his fingers tease your entrance, running gently through your folds. One thing was for sure, you were hot and bothered, all because of the eye candy encaging you in his porn play. He dipped two fingers in your aching core and pumped three times before they stilled inside you. His face coming up to meet yours, his eyes darkened and stole another passionate driven kiss.

His fingers starting pumping you faster earning a few unexpected deep moans. Your lips parting, your lust blown eyes were completely taken by the current moment. Your mind completely forgetting everything was being recorded. Ari’s fingers left your soaking cunt as he lowered his head and settled himself between your legs.

His mouth sucked your clit, you took in a sharp breath. His tongue firmly stroked downward on your slit, enough pressure for a controlled yet obscene moan to escape you. His tongue entered your dripping hole before returning his attention back to your clit. Ari’s fingers rejected as your vaginal muscle had tightened from the attention your clit was receiving. His mouth eased off and he pushed his fingers inside you, your cunt accepting, sucking them in.

The pleasure was almost too much, your hands caressing your upper body finding your breasts. With a feathered touch you rubbed your index fingers over your nipples, biting your bottom lip at the pleasure. Your touch made your nipples erect, the sensation spreading like wildfire through your entire body. Ari increased his pace and your moans and whimpers became more frequent, but in a more wanting and loving way.

Your back started to arch up and you were about to cum, when Ari stopped all his actions. Your eyes shot fully open to protest, but he shushed you by placing two of his fingers in your mouth allowing you a moment to taste yourself before retracting them. You watched him pump his hard cock with his hand, before he gripped your hips as his member slowly pushes down in your sopping cunt.

“Big enough for you princess” Ari grunted as he pushed fully into you.

“Y-Yes” the response was short and simple, your brain not functioning anymore when the pleasure had taken over from the thoughts. His tempo made your eyes roll backwards, your hips meeting his rhythm as he held a firm grasp on your hips helping and guiding you up and down on him. Without warning Ari stopped and flipped you over. A fistful of hair grabbed pulling you back, his grasp wasn’t harsh and only intensified your lustful awakening.

His left arm snaking around your waist finding your right boob, giving it a sinful squeeze, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He held your back close to his chest while his lips sucked pleasure marks on your neck and breathing heavily into your ear, whispering nothing but obscenities to you. Your arms lifted up and your hands fisted his hair, your fingernails scraping his scalp a little. He growled in your ear, you repeated your actions and he gave your hip a single firm squeeze.

His cock slowly being dragged in and out of you, your walls coating his thick veined cock. The squelching noises pulled from the juices being pulled from between your legs. Ari’s hands running freely over your skin setting it on fire. You felt fucked out and your orgasm was building rapidly.

Ari must have felt it as his hips started bucking up into you even faster, making is his mission to finish you. Your moans of sin becoming frequent again, Ari’s wandering hand slid in between your folds, rubbing your clit gently, pushing you even closer to the edge. One of your hands held onto his wrist holding it in the pleasurable place whilst the other placed on the nape of his neck, fingers gripping the hairs at the bottom.

Your orgasm washed over you as Ari let you ride out your high before pulling you off, laying you flat on the double sunbed. As you tried to calm your breathing he straddled you underneath him, pumping his member faster. The white strings of sin faltering out of his cock, you leaned up on your elbows and opened your mouth while he decorated your face and chest.

Licking your lips with his salty cum, you swallowed and stared back at Ari who seemed to enjoy the fucked out sight in front of him. When he had finished squirting his load on you, he cradled your head in his large hands, his thumbs running over your lips before leaning in to steal one last fiery kiss. You separated from the kiss and kept staring each other in the eyes for what felt like hours.

“Happy boss?” Ari questioned still holding your head gently as you nodded your head

“CUT!” you yelled, Ari climbed off of you and helped you up.

“WOW, that was amazing” Edie clapped being stunned by the scene that just had taken place.

“Thanks, hopefully a great lesson for you on what to do next time” you spoke, she smiled widely back at you when you walked towards your chair, picking up your clothes from the floor “Well done everyone, I think we all need a break and we’ll continue with fresh eyes tomorrow” a relieved cheer was heard “I’m off to have a shower, since I have become a Picasso art piece” you started walking towards the dressing room

“Worth millions” Ari spoke after you, you raised your middle finger at him without looking back at him. His loud laughter filled the room.

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

You walked out of the building, rolling your eyes at Ari as he leaned against your car, one leg propped up on the tire, his arms folded and a cocky grin beaming back at you.

“There she is, my million dollar star” Ari clapped his hands before raising up his arms slightly and bowing down “I bless the ground you walk on peaches”

“Oh shut it Ari” you felt your cheeks burn, embarrassment bubbling underneath your skin. It was ridiculous, but you felt a little insecure “Hopefully good enough for what I want to get done” you continued walking towards the car, halting in front of Ari.

“Hopefully?” Ari raised an eyebrow “Peaches you were wonderful, you are in my top 3 ‘the best fucking sex I ever had’ so I guess for a retired pornstar you still possess your magic” you shoved him a little and his head fell back letting out a laugh “Don’t be embarrassed, I liked it a lot” his hands found their way on your waist pulling you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you Ari, but can you move out of the way, I want to go home, I am little worn out” “Must be because of my majestic cock” he laughed

“Don’t flatter yourself, it doesn’t suit you” you giggled “Why are you still here, I thought you left a while ago”

“Couldn’t stay away from you peaches, since you performed so well today” Ari wiggled his eyebrows

“Had to show you guys somehow, you were costing me a fortune” you pointed out, opening the car door, tossing your bag on the backseat.

“Would it make a difference if it was done on purpose?” Ari questioned, climbing into the driver��s seat. Your mouth had fallen open from the shock and your brain scrambled for words and phrases to throw Ari’s way. You opened the door on the passenger’s side and got into the seat.

“Are you telling me you put on an entire show so you could get your dick wet on the clock?”

“Had to fuck the brat right out of you somehow” his cocky grin beamed back at you. You knew he was taunting you if it wasn’t for his sunglasses shielding his eyes “You have always been such a perfectionist, so I knew you would fall for my well thought out trap”

“Well next time ask me to eat a snickers instead” you rolled your eyes as Ari started the car.

“Might need another round of fucking the brat out of you peaches” Ari grabbed your hand, pulling the intertwined hold to his lips and placing a kiss on top. Your cheeks flushed with heat at the thought of how intense your fuck session had been and what kind of ways you both would fuck one another later.

YIKES, that was a true adventure!!!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fic #chris evans smut

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separatist-apologist · 3 years

Note

Hi, it’s me, riling up anon (I really should get a tumblr account to ease my introductions and so we can become besties). Obviously, LOVE part 4! Part 5 ideas- Lucien repays the favor (obvs). He wakes up wondering how he is going to get Elain alone in the house when a gift falls into his lap - a rogue Illyrian war band is attempting to gain new territory. Exit the IC, enter elucien smut in the garden.

First of all, I would love to be besties.

Second of all, no rest for the wicked am I right? Like yesterday this is NSFW, 18+, practically unedited and obviously guarantees a part 6. It's also the longest part I've written so far. PART 5!

Elain woke with some regrets. The throb between her legs was at an all-time high and with so many people around, there was little she could do but put on a breezy, cotton gown, her wide-brimmed sun hat, and vanish into the garden where at least no one would be able to smell what was going on with her. Elain kept her thighs pressed together, hoping some of the friction would help alleviate the burn.

It didn’t, and by the time the sun was high in the sky, Elain was weeding with a grim brutality. Had Lucien left? She wanted to tug on the bond and see where he was but she didn’t want to bring him anywhere near her. Her control was too tenuous as it was. She might jump him in front of her sisters and then what? How would she possibly explain what was going on between them? She barely knew herself. None of it was ladylike…and perhaps some small part of her liked having something that was just for her. No one could offer an opinion or butt in if they didn’t know.

“Elain?” Feyre’s voice wafted from the garden wall. A moment later her youngest sister appeared in her Illyrian leathers. Elain stood, dusting off her dirty hands. “Hey…it’s nothing to worry about and not a big deal, but there was a disturbance with the Illyrian’s. One of the chiefs slaughtered a village and is attempting to take more territory. Rhys and I are going up to handle it, and I know Cassian and Nesta plan to join with the Valkyries….you’ll be alone in the house.”

Elain shrugged. “That’s fine,” she agreed, wiping sweat with the back of her arm.

Feyre bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Mostly alone…”

Elain narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

Lucien will be in the house too…not all day! But…for a while. He’s working on a treaty for Rhys and should stay in the study. He’ll leave you alone but…just in case you wanted to go out…”

Right. Elain offered Feyre a tight smile, her heart pounding in her chest. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Feyre’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “If we can’t make it back tonight I’ll send word.”

“Be safe.”

Feyre vanished, leaving Elain alone in the garden. She stood there, wondering if she ought to find him in the study and demand…demand what, exactly? It wasn’t like she was well-practiced. As she stood there, contemplating how to get what she wanted without having to just blurt it out, a hand brushed the hair from the back of her neck. Warm breath tickled her skin and when Elain spun, already aware of who was just behind her, Lucien caught her easily. He was smiling, his one russet eye dark and hungry as he gazed down at her.

“I’ve promised your sister not to bother you unless you ask,” he told her, his deep voice a shade darker than it typically was. “May I bother you, Lady Elain?”

“That depends,” she replied primly, unable to take her eyes off his lips. “On what kind of bothering you plan to do.”

A grin began to stretch across Lucien’s face, giving him a near feral appearance. “I owe you for last night.”

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. “Of course you don’t.” Lucien’s body was pressed against her own as he reached for her face, tilting it towards him. “Wrong, Elain. Tell me…can I bother you?”

“Bother me how?” She whispered, the words nearly sticking to the back of her throat.

“With my mouth, ideally,” he murmured, ghosting his lips across her own. “But I’m happy with just my hands.”

“Why not both?” She asked without thinking. She felt him smile against her skin.

“I like the way you think,” he practically purred before kissing her gently, out in the open where anyone could see. There was nothing to hide them; the garden wall would hardly come up to his hip were he standing right beside it, and though there were some lovely trees scattered about, none were broad enough to obscure what was happening between them.

Elain felt a thrill run up her spine at the thought of being so open with him. It was her that deepened the kiss, running her tongue along his lips until he opened for her. She surged upwards on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around his neck so she could revel in the way he tasted. No one had the right to smell half as good as Lucien did, like crisp Autumn air and sun washed apples, but for however good he smelled, he tasted ten times better.

She was half-drunk on the moment, lost in the feel of his hands running the length of her spine. It was so sweet, so unhurried that some small part of her wanted to revel in it. Lucien, though, had decidedly different ideas regarding what he hoped to do. Some of the sweetness shattered when his hand cupped her breast through the thin, white material of her dress while his other began rouching up the fabric.

She broke the kiss with a gasp. “Out here?” She asked. He chuckled, teasing her nipple almost absently as he gazed down at her.

“You have somewhere better in mind?”

She opened her mouth to protest, to say yes, very much so, but the look on his face stopped her. She glanced at the soft grass just beneath her feet and, before she could talk herself out of it, promptly sat down at his feet. Lucien stared for a moment and then laughed as if she’d told him the most hilarious joke, his tanned face reddening as he attempted to keep himself together.

“What?” She demanded as he dropped to one knee, and then the other until he was kneeling before her.

“You’re funny,” was all he said in response. No one thought she was funny…and never had. She wasn’t sure what to do with that information, so she tucked it away for later. “I never meant for you to sit in the grass, though.”

She frowned. “Oh?”

He was chuckling again as he hefted her into his lap. “I ama gentleman, you know.”

“Where should I sit, then?” She asked, genuinely curious. His lips curled upwards as he lowered himself to the ground and gestured at his face. Heat rose through her body and she balked, one hand pressed against her mouth.

“You’re obscene,” she accused, completely unaware people did such things. Lucien waited a beat and then, with strong, sure hands, merely dragged her across his chest until he had her placed exactly where he wanted.

“Tell me to stop,” he replied, his face half hidden beneath her dress, his breath hot against the fabric of her underwear. Oh, Gods,she thought, her embarrassment shifting towards anticipation. She swallowed hard and draped her gown over his face entirely, not that it was keep anyone from instantly recognizing what was going on between them.

“Off,” his muffled voice ordered, his finger hooking in the fabric of her underwear. It was awkward, shimmying them off while he attempted to keep her exactly as she was, but Elain managed it. Still nervous, she shoved them into the pocket of his pants, just in case anyone came by. They were still clothed…perhaps she’d lie and say she was injured and he was patching her up.

She gasped when she felt his fingers spread her open. Lucien hissed softly. “Pretty,” he murmured, she suspected more to himself than for her though the praise settled hot in her belly.

“What are you—”

He licked right up the center of her cunt and Elain nearly flew off his face. He brought one hand from beneath her skirt to hold her in place, dragging her even closer. Was he breathing, she wondered wildly, suddenly desperate for him to continue?

He licked a slow circle and Elain whined, grinding her hips against his face without thinking. Lucien groaned beneath her, the guttural sound spearing pleasure through her but.

“Am I frustrating you?” His muffled voice asked, his lips speaking practically into her cunt.

“Yes,” she gritted out, wishing he’d shut up.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, withdrawing his mouth completely.

Elain screamed softly, shoving him back into her wet folds. She heard him groan again and she wondered which he liked; the assertiveness or being that close to her body. He gave her what she was asking for, licking up the center of her, letting his tongue work over her clit in the same circular motion as before, faster, then slower, while she canted against him, urging him on.

Heat mingled with pleasure, building up, up, up and when she thought she might fall over the edge, Lucien’s tongue vanished from her clit and dipped into her entrance to fuck her with his mouth instead.

“Lucien please—” She begged. She was close, so mind-shatteringly close it had stolen her ability to think of anything else but his soft, wet mouth rubbing against her, the sweet friction almost unbearable in its pleasure.

He dragged his tongue back to his clit, his pace quickening as one finger slid into her body. Elain was lost to the sensation, unable to do anything but grind against him. Darkness crept into the edge her vision as the heat in her gut threatened to take her completely.

“Please, don’t stop, Lucien—” Her legs clamped around his head, his cunt pulsating on his finger as she screamed his name to the sky. Lucien rode her through it before sliding her down his chest just enough to sit up and kiss her roughly. His mouth tasted like her and she thought she ought to have found it disturbing or disgusting but she found the taste of her mingled in his mouth erotic.

“Lucien?!” A distant voice called. Feyre, she realized. Lucien groaned.

“We’ll continue this later,” he promised, quickly righting himself. She looked away from the bulge in his pants, still panting on the ground. Lucien vanished a moment later and she realized when she’d finally managed to climb back to her shaking legs that he’d taken her underwear with him.

#elucien fic #elucien smut #elucien prompt #my girl just out here in PUBLIC getting her some #Part 6 tomorrow #and then idk #maybe we only need 6 parts?????#as always #u tell me i am but a slave to your will

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waithyuck · 4 years

Text

TRICKY

pairing: elf! na jaemin x reader (f) **halloweenie special**

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: {OKAY IM PUTTING A WARNING FOR VERY MILD *DUB-CON* BC TECHNICALLY THE READER IS TRICKED , BUT IN THE END OBVIOUSLY CONSENTS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED}, sexual content (fingering, dry humping), explicit language, use of several pet names, possessive behavior and vocabulary, reader just wants to find her damn cat but gets a whole lot more than that, bad attempts at explaining folklore, I’m sorry for any inaccuracies 😬 **ALSO UNEDITED**

a/n: **repost bc tumblr sucks** this is definitely more of my own spin on what I think an elf would be like, so sorry to those of you who are into the lore and stuff 🥺

< previous | next >

~10/14/2020~

~~~~

your grandmother was always a very smart woman, and you knew that very well. so when she told you not to do something, you made sure to NEVER do it.

you lived with her on the very outskirts of your town; your own backyard made up of a very dense forest with enough trees in it to block out almost all sunlight. your bedroom window faced the forest, and every night you were forced to stare at it as you sat at your desk, contemplating what went on in there.

your grandmother repeatedly told you to never go in there, no matter what, ever since you were a child. she would talk about all kinds of crazy things, like witches and faeries, and even elves.

the first time she told you about the dark forest, you were only six years old.

“you can’t go in there, y/n.” she said seriously, crouching before you as you stood in the kitchen with her. “no matter how much it may call you, you can never enter it.”

you didn’t understand, so of course, in typical child fashion, you questioned her.

“well why not?” you shot back, crossing your arms and pouting. she stood back up after looking at you for a second, going back to mixing brownie batter in a large bowl.

“the fae are dangerous creatures. the forest is littered with them, my dear.” she stopped for a moment, gazing out the kitchen window and into the thick gathering of trees and plant life. “the elves will claim you once you enter, and you may never be able to escape again.”

after that, she didn’t say much else to you about it.

at first, you thought she was just trying to scare you into not wandering off, but after a while you began to believe her.

there would be strange noises in the night; like whispers calling out to you from the direction of your window. it creeped you out but you tried to convince yourself it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

your life continued on like that for years, and eventually it didn’t phase you at all. you were used to the nightly whispers now, and even your cat didn’t seem to mind them, if she could hear them at all.

you never told your grandmother about them, however. she was getting old and you didn’t want to be the reason she had a heart attack, as awful as that sounded.

for being as old as she was, she still got around pretty good, and there were days when she left you along for a good few hours to go out on walks with her other old lady friends.

it was really cute.

today was just like any other day like that; your grandmother left around eleven in the morning to go out, leaving you some breakfast on the counter for when you inevitably stumbled out of your room at one o’clock in the afternoon.

everything seemed normal. you ate in silence and scrolled through your phone at the kitchen table, but then noticed something was right.

looking around you, you noticed your cat was nowhere in sight. she would usually be up on the table sitting and staring at you or rubbing against your leg for no reason, but currently she was nowhere to be found.

at first you just assumed she was sleeping somewhere else, but after eating you searched the house and couldn’t find her anywhere. walking back into the kitchen you happened to glance outside and your heart jumped in your chest.

then you started to panic.

looking out into the backyard you saw her stark white fur disappear into the thick brush of the forest, and you almost screamed out loud at the sight.

“fuck,” you exclaimed, your heart racing and your mind thinking of all the ways to try to get her back. you were always advised to not go into the forest...but you couldn’t let your poor cat who you loved very dearly to get mauled out there by some bigger animal.

you had to go after her.

you mustered you all the courage you had inside you, not bothering to change out of your ratty shorts and t-shirt before shoving your feet in your sneakers. you let out a shaky breath as you walked into your backyard, staring down the darkness of the forest with determination.

as you apprehensively made your way to the very entrance of the brush, you spotted a large crooked stick, and didn’t hesitate to grab it to use as a weapon if necessary.

you didn’t want to be completely defenseless against any supernatural creatures you came across. you had a gut feeling that running into one would be inevitable, and the fear rang like a siren in the back of your mind like a sonata.

the ‘do not enter’ and ‘keep out: danger’ signs did nothing to ease your pounding heart and screaming nerves, but you pressed on regardless. you had to do this, for your stupid cat.

with one large step, you passed the boundary of the trees, the wind picking up as soon as you did. a chill ran down your spine but you kept your legs moving, careful not to break your ankles on any protruding roots. it was incredibly dark, even though the sun was high in the sky, but the leaves of the towering trees cut out almost all light.

you stumbled around aimlessly for what felt like hours, but in reality it had only probably been about 45 minutes before you stopped and took a breather. checking your phone for the time, you felt a pang in your chest when you realized that it was off, and wouldn’t turn back on no matter how hard you tried.

“fuck,” you muttered, fear creeping up on your soul once again. you really didn’t want to be in this forest longer than necessary, and you really seriously contemplated just leaving your cat behind, as horrible as that was.

your eyes gazed around, taking in the trees surrounding you. nothing seemed too out of the ordinary...all though you really though you saw a few small dashes of light fly around you through your periphery. you prayed that they weren’t pixies or fairies of whatever else your grandmother told you about.

you didn’t trust anything, no matter how beautiful or non-threatening they seemed to be on the outside.

“hello there.” a voice spoke out suddenly, causing you to jump and spin around, dropping your makeshift weapon in the process.

your eyes met the sight of a young man who looked to be around your age, with a slightly unsettling smile upon his face. he was almost too handsome; the beauty that emanated from him in waves was incredibly addicting, and you felt the pull of him immediately. it was hard to tear your eyes away, and that scared you.

you had no idea where he had come from, nor did you know how he managed to so quietly sneak up behind you like he did. you definitely would have heard him coming, considering the amount of twigs and leaves littering the ground at your feet.

your heart raced at the possibility of who, or what, he was, your mind trying to go through everything your sweet old grandmother ever told you. some inner part of you already knew what you were dealing with.

“don’t hurt yourself, darling,” the man spoke again, referencing to your mind working in overtime. he took a step forward toward you, and in turn you took a large stumbling step back. he watched you move, chuckling. “I’m jaemin, care to tell me your name?”

“n-no,” you managed to say, your hands clutched at your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart. you swore you saw his eyes flicker a bright aquamarine for a moment before returning back to brown as his smile faltered slightly. It came back a split second later.

“you’re a smart girl,” he purred, most likely realizing that you knew he wasn’t human, inching closer once more. you felt frozen, unable to step back like you truly wanted to, and you willed yourself not to panic. “you know what I am, I presume?”

your lips shook as you opened your mouth to speak, your tongue running over your chapped lips and he watched every single movement, causing your body to shiver.

“I have a-an idea,” you softly whispered, not breaking eye contact as he stopped in front of you. he didn’t say a word, only smiling at you as you stayed frozen in your spot. one word screamed in your mind: elf. you didn’t even have to look at his pointed ears to deduct that. the vibe he gave off was abundantly clear, even if you had never encountered another being of his kind before.

it didn’t feel like he was compelling you; it was more or less your reaction to the immense shock and fear you felt, coming in contact with a creature your grandmother always warned you about.

and it’s all because of your dumb cat.

“l-look dude, I’m just trying to find my cat.” you stated strongly now, holding your ground as best you could as he looked at you intensely, that slightly unsettling smile never leaving his face.

“once it entered the forest it became mine.” he simply retorted, leaning against the tree trunk beside him. “anything that passes the trees here belongs to me…” he paused for a moment, his eyes now glowing a full bright aquamarine, startling you as he seared his gaze through your very soul. “so I guess that means you’re mine as well. how lucky.”

the elf spoke softly, but there was an edge to his tone that made you shiver, paired with his choice of words.

“I-I’m not..” you stuttered, your fists clenched by your sides. was he the ruler of the forest? some sort of elf king?

“you’re not?” he asked, chuckling to himself as he pushed his body from the tree, slowly slithering toward you on his bare feet. “did you not hear what I said? everything in this forest is mine. that includes living creatures,” you had no willpower to move away as he crowded your space, his glowing eyes paralyzing you as his body drew closer and closer. “I wonder what I should do with my new possession.” he smirked to himself, reaching a pale hand out to gently cup your chin, laughing lowly as you instinctively flinched. “you are without a doubt the prettiest thing I’ve seen enter my domain in years, princess. I’ve been waiting for you.”

his last sentence threw you off, but for a moment your brain couldn’t remember the whispers you heard all those years, and it didn’t click. you couldn’t deny that this elf man was attractive; and you couldn’t deny the fact that his voice had your legs weakening with every word he spoke. you cursed yourself mentally for being affected by him, because deep down you were aware of the danger of encountering elves.

thinking back to your cat, you wondered why she would have left the house in the first place. she was lazy and never wanted to really move...unless something was calling her…

your heart seemed to stop beating and your blood ran cold.

“you tr-tricked me…” you said in realization, your eyes widening. “you tricked me into coming in here, using m-my cat!” your voice was panicked and you found it hard to breathe. then, your brain finally figured it out. “you’re the one that’s been whispering to me all these years, aren’t y-you?”

he smiled at you with dark aquamarine eyes, and now you weren’t sure how you were going to get yourself out of this mess.

you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to get out of this mess.

wait, what?, your eyes widened at your own thoughts, where did that come from??

suddenly and without warning, your entire body was grasped in his hold. his hands dominantly gripped your waist and flipped you around so that your front was smacked up against a tree, the sharp bark scratching your cheek as your face was scraped against it.

“you’re my kitty now.” his voice whispered directly into your ear, his breath causing your body to visibly shiver in his hold.

you didn’t mean to whine, you really didn’t, but when he his teeth found your ear and nibbled gently on the skin, you couldn’t hold it in. your legs trembled beneath you as your knees weakened, the feeling of his warm body pressed tightly against your back leaving you wanting more and more.

he pressed deceivingly sweet kisses along your neck, your hands clutching the bark of the tree in response, your nails scratching along the surface. you jolted when you felt his right hand move down your front and nestle between your legs, putting pressure right against your covered center.

“hmm, you want it, don’t you?” he mumbled quietly, his chest rumbling against your back. “your thoughts are so loud, I know you can’t resist me.”

your thighs clenched in anticipation as he ran his long fingers delicately along your core through your shorts, and you let out a breathy whimper in response.

he tsk’d at you, giving your pussy a light slap through the thin fabric before completely drawing it away. “I wanna hear you say yes, kitty.”

his voice was demanding as he spoke, and you couldn’t disobey.

with your eyes glazing over, you gripped the tree trunk tightly and mewled out, “yes!”

you could practically hear him smirk, his chuckling causing you to grow even more wet as he finally slipped his hand down your front and into your shorts. when his long finger reached your bare and sensitive nub, you could help but arch your back, causing your ass to press tightly against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned right in your ear, his hips bucking and grinding against your behind in time with his strokes against your clit.

“you’re already so wet, darling,” he moaned out, dipping his finger down to circle your entrance. “I could just...slide right in.” with those words, he slipped his index finger into you in one clean movement, his long finger reaching deep inside your pussy.

you cried out when the tip of his finger brushed a sweet spot inside you, and you heard him groan in response, a deep chuckle following.

“good girl,” he muttered, casually slipping his middle finger inside you beside his pointer. the stretch had you throwing you head back, giving him access to your pretty neck. “be as loud as you want, baby. it’s just me, you, and the forest now.”

his hips grinding against your from behind never ceased, and he thrusted his fingers to the same rhythm as his hips. he was literally fingerfucking you; before you knew it he was adding a third finger.

to help with the burn of the stretch, he reached his free hand down and used two fingers to pinch and roll your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut and clench your teeth at the sudden immense pleasure you were feeling.

it was embarrassing, but you were already so close to reaching your high. you really wanted this feeling to last forever, so you tried to hold it as long as you could.

the noises escaping from you only grew louder the harder he went; the powerful strokes from his hips driving you into the bark of the tree and his fingers plowing deep inside you had you practically screaming.

his lips found your neck and he left wet kisses there, his grains and growls only enhancing your feelings of ecstasy. he sounded like sin, and even though he was an elven boy that you had just stumbled across, you knew you didn’t want him to leave your life. you never wanted to live in a world where you couldn’t hear his moans, and that thought almost terrified you. the effect he was having on you was extremely intense, and you weren’t sure if it was normal, but at this point you were far too gone to care.

“are you gonna cum, kitty?” he strained out, breaking you out of your thought as his hips stuttered against your ass, his fingers still powerfully fucking into you. you could only nod desperately, your throat sore from the guttural sounds you were releasing.

he let out a breathy laugh, causing your walls to flutter around his digits. “then cum. I wanna feel you fucking drench my fingers.”

his words were all it took for you to let go. you screamed as you came, your nails scratching against the tree as your cheek scraped sharply on the bark, most likely drawing blood. your pussy clamped so hard around his fingers that he could barely move them in and out of you, so he drew circles over your clit to help you ride out your orgasm.

his hips pressed tightly against you, and you could feel through your own pants the wet spot on the front of his, indicating that he had cum as well.

after a powerful minute of cumming, you felt your eyes droop in exhaustion almost immediately. jaemin withdrew his fingers from you, wiping your essence on his pants before grouping your waist to keep you from collapsing. you definitely would have fallen if it weren’t for his hold on you.

he gently lowered you to the ground, turning your body so your back was able to rest against the trunk. he wiped at the scratches on your cheek with his thumb, but even though it stung you didn’t have the energy to flinch.

“go to sleep, precious.” he said softly, still stroking your face lovingly. his gentle nature should have set off all of the alarms in your mind and body, but you didn’t have enough energy to care.

in the back of your mind you realized that you probably would never see your cat or your grandmother again, and that you would most likely be trapped in this forest with jaemin for the rest of your days on earth. you didn't want to think about it now, so you took his advice and allowed your eyes to close, dreaming of jaemin and nothing else.

maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

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