#I was looking for a similar ring yesterday though
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The Art of Etiquette Part 9 | Jeon Jungkook
Summary: Your call with Jesse is dramatic on his part to say the least but looks like there's a new guy in town and he's got his sights set on you.
Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook
Word Count: 2.2k~
Warnings: Explicit and suggestive language but barely lmao
a/n: Sorry this one is a little shorter guys but I figured this was a good stopping point so I hope you enjoy it 🥰
p.s. barely edited as always lol
Start from the beginning
"Hello?" I say, my voice ridden with exhaustion since I was woken up out of a sound sleep from my phone ringing on full blast.
"Hello? That's all you have to say to me? Girl I've been texting you since last night and you never responded" Jesse scolds through the phone and when I look at my messages I have over 50 from him alone.
"I'm sorry Jess I was busy with Jungkook all day yesterday and I just ended up taking a shower and going to sleep. I guess I forgot to tell you how it went" I apologize, rubbing the sleep from my eye. "Tell me everything I don't care if you're all over the place I just need to live vicariously though you" he says, his excitement palpable even though the phone.
"Well we went to the modiste and found my dress an-" "No no I don't care about the boring stuff. Tell me about what happened between you and Jungkook. Did you guys share glances? Did he touch you? Did he hold your hand? You know the juicy stuff. Well, I guess as juicy as you could get with an etiquette teacher" he spouts off, trying to keep me on track.
"I thought you said you wanted to live vicariously through me? So I was taking you through my day step by step" I say, smiling at his impatience. "I meant the good stuff" he groans and I laugh at his playful frustration before having mercy on him and telling him everything.
"I found out that we like the same music and like similar foods and that he really is a nice guy. Under all of that commanding and strict nature he truly is a great guy" I admit, morning thoughts now full of him giving me a fuzzy feeling in my chest.
"You're falling for him aren't you?" Jesse asks, amused once he hears how I've changed my toon so quickly from one day to the next. "I wouldn't say I'm falling for him but there are some, stirrings" I say, confused and still half asleep, not being able to fully express my emotions properly.
"Stirrings?" Jesse laughs, knowing what I'm meaning to say without actually having to say it but still pushing me to say more "Yes stirrings and let's leave it at that for now" I say, sitting up and stretching before getting out of bed.
"Whatever you say" he sings leaving me rolling my eyes as walk to the bathroom and start to pull out the various things I need to get ready. "He also kinda sorta kissed me" I mumble and immediately pull my phone away from my ear, knowing how loud he's going to get about me hiding this from him for so long.
"HE KISSED YOU? LIKE FOR REAL THIS TIME?" he asks, repeating his reaction from last time but needing to clarify right away since things have been interesting between us to say the least.
"Well it wasn't full on but it was more than last time" I smirk, knowing that Jesse's way more excited about this than I am. "What's that supposed to mean" he asks quickly, dying to know since this is probably the most important piece of the puzzle he had been waiting for.
"Well I walked him out to his car after he dropped me off to say goodbye, and well he..." "Y/n I swear if you don't just spit it out I'm going to come over there and strangle it out of you" he growls and I laugh, always loving the feeling of torturing him.
"Alright alright. So when I walked him out he said goodnight to me but when he said it, he said it against my lips. Like he brushed his lips against mine and just left me there and drove off like nothing happened" I say and the silence on the other side of the phone worries me.
"Jesse?" I ask and then I hear what sounds like him punching his pillow or something. "Jesse are you alright?" I laugh and soon he takes in a deep breath and yell out "HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE LIVING MY DREAM?!?!?!" and I bust out laughing while he scolds me on the other end of the phone.
"What are you doing?!?!?! You're literally wasting precious time that you could be using to let him fuck your brains out all because he just likes playing games with you. He wants you so bad so just go for it! If not for your own sake then for mine" he whines and I just continue to laugh, trying not to take him seriously because if I do I don't know if I'll be able to act like I don't want him too.
"When's the ball?" Jesse asks after I had been tuning him out for a second or two. "Next Saturday" I answer and he hums, thinking about if he can squeeze me in for something or other. "Why?" I ask, his silence peaking my interest.
"Well I wanted to see if you'd let me come and help you get ready for the ball? You know, hair, makeup, nails the whole nine yards" he says and I groan thinking about all of that stuff thrown together in one day.
"My guess is that my mom is gonna either have someone come over to get me ready or that she'll send me to some sort of shop. If you want you could come with? Maybe get a manicure to while we're at it?" I offer and I can just tell how excited he is about it already.
"Yes yes a thousand times yes! I swear every time I've asked you to do anything that is remotely girly you've always said no so there's no way I'm passing up on this one!" he says and I can't help but smile. "Well I'm glad that I'll have someone by my side to help me endure this torture" I groan and he brushes me off, my claims sounding absolutely ridiculous to him.
"Anyways I've gotta get ready for class so I'll see you then alright?" I say, checking the clock, thankfully seeing that I have more than enough time to do so. "Alright well hurry up so we can grab some coffee or something beforehand because I'm exhausted" I scoff at his words, since he was the one that woke me up two hours before my alarm was supposed to go off.
"Why the hell would you be tired? You're the one that woke me up!" and he scoffs right back at me. "I was getting impatient alright! And rightfully so! How could you not tell me he kissed you?" he whines and I know this is my cue to wrap up the call.
"He didn't kiss me alright. If he does you'll be the first to know, I promise. Unless someone sees of course" I say and he sighs dramatically, impatient with how slowly this whole thing is playing out.
"Yeah yeah whatever, I'll see you soon. Should I just grab you something and meet you at our table?" he asks and I hum before responding. "Please and thank you" I say, dragging out the last word and soon end the call.
Classes go off without a hitch with Jesse bugging me every other second about Jungkook so I guess it was a pretty normal day to say the least. "Tell me if anything happens at your lessons today alright? No more late updates! I'm honestly still mad at you" he groans before picking up his stuff to go.
"Yeah yeah whatever. See you later loser" I say, rolling my eyes and he rolls his right back at me even more dramatically. "Bye bitch" he says over his shoulder, giving me one last wave before walking to his last class while I make my way to mine.
Walking into class I'm greeted by the murmurings of almost all the girls in class all aimed at one guy in particular that I'd never seen before. Granted I don't really pay attention to anyone in this class besides the professor anyways but seeing that there's a big enough reaction, my interest can't help but be peaked.
As I make my way over to my usual spot in the lecture hall I begin to notice that he's sat right across the aisle from me.
I try to keep to myself and quietly go to my seat and pray he doesn't notice me because the last thing I need is a some guy trying to distract me in class.
Don't get me wrong I'm not saying that I don't like helping people but, no actually I guess I really don't like helping people now that I think about it. That's besides the point though. All I need to worry about is getting through this lecture and getting out of here so I can make it to my lessons on time with Jungkook.
As the professor finally makes his way into the classroom and starts to set up I hear someone trying to get my attention.
"Psst" I hear and know exactly who it is, making me cringe but deciding to acknowledge him nonetheless. I look up at him and realize why those girls had been whispering about him since he, putting it as plainly as I can, is a very attractive human being.
"What?" I respond and he grants me a smile that would make any other girl swoon, I however am not that girl.
"Do you have a pencil I could borrow?" he asks, giving me the lamest excuse in the book to get a girl's attention. I summon all the strength I have in my body to resist rolling my eyes and decide to just reach into my bag and grab him one, hoping to be done with this conversation as soon as possible so I can focus on the lecture.
I hand him the pencil and feel him purposefully brush his hand against mine and I pull my hand back, making him drop it and gaining the attention of the professor.
"Is there a problem Mr. Foster?" the professor says to the freeloader next to me. "No sir, no problem at all" he says smoothly, trying to charm is way out of the scolding. "See that there isn't" the professor says, raising an eyebrow at him while the boy apologizes making the lecture resume after that.
~~~~
"Hey" the guy calls out after me as I make my way out of the classroom. I stop and look at him, only planning on giving him seconds to say his piece before leaving, knowing that I'll get an earful from Jungkook if I'm late again. I raise a brow at him as he smiles down at me and doesn't make moves to say anything first.
"Can I help you?" I say, finally breaking the ice and wanting to get to the point. "Actually you already did. I just wanted to give you your pencil back" he says holding it out to me with a bright smile. "Keep it" I say and turn my back to go and unfortunately he follow after me.
"What's your name?" he asks after squeezing through the students in the halls so he can walk next to me. "None of your business" I grumble and try to walk faster but he follows all the same.
"That's a curious name" he chuckles, refusing to take the hint to the fact that I don't want to talk to him. "Can't you just leave me alone?" I question, stopping in my tracks, trying my hand at this method rather than just trying to outrun him which seems futile at this point based off of how long his legs are compared to mine.
"I just wanted to thank my savior since I would've fallen even further behind in class if I wasn't able to take any notes today" he says and I cross my arms, knowing for a fact that half the time he was just looking at me since I could feel his eyes on me every time he looked my way.
"The best way to thank me is to leave me alone. I've got things to do and I don't have time to waste on you Foster" I say, using his last name since that's all I know so far. "It's Daniel" he chuckles at my effort to push him off (figuratively of course, thankfully he has manners enough to maintain personal space).
"I prefer Foster" I say sarcastically and he laughs as if I've said the funniest thing in the world. "Foster it is then" he agrees and I groan, walking off to my car and luckily this time he doesn't follow me, watching me from where we had been standing until I'm out of his sight.
'Just when I thought my day was going well I've some how created a tail. Why me? Why not all the other girls in class that were obviously fawning all over him?' I shake my head and open my car door, slumping down into it and take a deep breath before putting on my seatbelt and putting my keys in the ignition.
Hopefully I'll be able to get rid of this sour mood by the time I see Jungkook because otherwise our lessons aren't gonna be the prettiest today and we don't have time for anything but pretty. Time is running out and I need to remain focused if I want to do this and do it right.
I want to leave a good impression on everyone for James' sake, but more than anything I want to make Jungkook proud of me...
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#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#fanfic#fanfiction#kpop#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#bts#kpop fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook bts#jungkook x original character#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook and you#jungkook and reader#the art of etiquette#taoe
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What do you think of the fit?
Meh
#vro0m's asks#I was looking for a similar ring yesterday though#But all I could find were golden ones and I only do silver#Or in cheap metals that may or may not contain nickel that in allergic to#I'm*
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♡﹒"make me behave like an animal !! " ~ tamaki amajiki
┆︎ ☆ synopsis: tamaki was never really known for confidence, so his love life was barren compared to all the other big shot heroes. so when you come along, he's addicted.
₊˚๑ warnings: virgin fetish, smut, sub!tamaki, overstimulation, dacryphilia, loss of virginity, dom!reader, afab reader, reader is wearing a skirt, praise fetish, oral (m receiving), consent is sexy. cum swallowing, a whole lot basically
a/n: pls request sum stuff!! i looveee to write for y'all >;3
tamaki is dressed up in a suit that is tailored perfectly to him, showing off the toned body he's spent years creating. he doesn't feel good though, as he just left the bi-annual ranking ceremony of the top heroes. those things always make him anxious. reporters sticking microphones in his face, expectations placed upon him... even thinking back to what he said makes him want to curl up into a ball.
now, he's sitting in a little ... coffee shop? bar? he doesn't know what it actually is, but he's got privacy in his booth and that's all he needs right now.
until you walk over to him, outfitted in your waitress uniform your boss required of you to work there. the hem of the dress barely covered the plush of your thighs, and tamaki caught himself gawking for a moment before he turned away, flushed.
you stop in front of his table and flash him a smile, setting his green tea down. he nervously smiles back and thanks you, and you straighten up and saunter away, almost teasingly.
it takes him a moment to recover as drinks his tea and takes deep breaths to calm down from that, and the anxiety-inducing day he's had in general. he can’t focus on anything that happened earlier in his day though, still thinking about the pretty smile you gave him and the way your legs moved as you walked away from him.
a whole lot of murmuring to himself and semi-perverted thoughts later, he’s ready to pay and head home to rest.
it’s just you and one other co-worker on the job tonight, so you’re working the register as he pays. you hand him his cash back, along with a napkin with some writing on it.
“thank you !” he stammers out
you smirk at him and reply, “you’re welcome, suneater.”
~
a few days later, the hero is nervously fidgeting with the napkin that had your number and name written on it back at his pent house.
he had called you the day after you had given him your number, and you had been texting each other since then. you boldly initiated most, if not all, conversations between the two of you. it’s not that tamaki was dry, he was just so nervous.
yesterday, you asked him if you could come over and check out his beautiful house his hero money could afford him. he, of course, said yes excitably.
he thinks you’re perfect. you’re confident, intelligent, and hardworking. even if you aren’t working a high-end job, you still put in effort to make the best out of it. even through texts, your personality shines and your ambitions are clear. how could he possibly say no to you?
tamaki starts to get ready, putting on a button up shirt and pants that seem a little too formal for just a friend coming over to hang out, but he wants to make a good impression. he’s excited to see you.
after he’s finished tidying up his living room, his doorbell rings. he opens his door to find you, standing there in a skirt even shorter than the one that was apart of your uniform and a cute tank top that accentuates your tits.
he noticeably gapes for a moment before welcoming you inside, blushing intensely. you giggle a little at his cute mannerisms and he offers you some tea and a little tour, which you accept.
he shows you around the house, telling you the stories of all the little heirlooms he has around, and the two of you end up bonding over similar interests. you notice the way he looks away nervously when your eyes meet, and you can’t help but think he is adorable.
tamaki is just too sweet to resist.
one minute, he’s sitting you down in his living room, on the couch, offering to watch a movie or a tv show, the next, your face is a few inches from his.
“you’re really too cute, suneater.” you tell him, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“th.. thank you, i think you’re cute too, not in like a weird way but like…” he mutters out, shocked by your sudden closeness.
you cut off his stammering and embarrassment by kissing him softly, only for a few moments. you pull back from him, and even after one kiss he's left breathless.
"do you want to go further?" you ask him before you try anything else.
he quickly nods, and you know you've got him in the palm of your hand.
you kiss him again, but deeper and slowly.
tamaki starts to breathe heavily through his nose, leaning into the kiss intensely. he's sloppy and uncoordinated, practically screaming "virgin", so you had to ask.
"are you a virgin, tamaki?"
his face heated up, and even though you probably knew the answer by the look on his face, he still nodded.
"aww, sweet boy," you cooed, "don't be embarrassed, i can lead you through it."
you pushed him to lay on his back on the leather of the couch and he looked up at you with nervous doe eyes. he watched you closely as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
you sat on his lap and slowly rode him, your clothed cunt becoming wet with slick that was seeping onto his pants. you gave tamaki a show as your ground on him and unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side. you were left in just your skirt and underwear, and not even that for long.
tamaki's heart was pounding through his chest when you put your hand on his shoulder to encourage to sit up and put his face into your tits.
"they're for you, baby" you reassured him.
experimentally, he put his mouth around one of your nipples and put his hand on your free breast, toying with it. he moaned softly when you put your hand in his hair.
you let him have his fun for a few moments before pulling back and assisting him with removing his shirt. he already looked flushed out.
"too much?" you asked, patting him softly.
"n-no, i'm okay."
"okay, pretty boy."
you continued and helped him remove his pants. hooking a finger in the waistband of his boxers and pulling, his cock sprung out, leaking with pre.
"you have such a cute cock, tama." you preened
he smiled softly and thanked you.
tamaki was sitting up, while you were in between his legs as you began to give little kisses to the tip of his dick. he made small whimpering noises.
you licked a long stripe from the base all the way up to the head, and he gasped. you started to play with his balls softly in one hand while jerking him off with the other hand. your hand paid attention to the base as you used your mouth to suck on the tip.
"ha, hah~" he moaned out.
taking his moans of satisfaction as motivation, you began to pick up the pace. he started to get louder and louder and you knew he was going to cum soon.
he called out your name and said, "i-i'm gonna-"
"cum for me baby, c'mon, don't be shy"
with a throaty moan, he came, and you stuck out your tongue to catch every drop and swallowed it, looking into his eyes to tease him further. he shyly covered his face with his hand in attempt to avert his eyes, but you stopped him and put his arm back by his thigh.
"don't hide sweetheart~" you cooed
"y-you look so pretty, i can't handle it."
"you can do it for me, cutie pie."
you took off your remaining clothes and climbed onto his lap, your pussy sitting atop his cock.
"are you ready, baby?" you asked
"yes, i-i am."
you sat up on your knees, slowly pushing yourself down on his cock as it pushed you open. tamaki was whimpering slightly, feeling overstimulated already.
you moaned in comfort once he was fully in, and he smiled knowing he made you feel good.
you began to slowly bounce up and down, and tamaki had no problems with the pace, as it felt more sensual to him and better for his first time.
"you're doing so good" you told him as you brushed back some of his hair. the two of you were chest to chest, and he nuzzled into your neck to stifle whimpers.
you sped up your pace, and he was quickly becoming unable to handle the way your pussy clenched at him and hugged his cock.
tamaki groaned out, and suddenly you felt his warm cum being pushed into your cervix. his eyes got heavy and his breathing was slowing.
“you did such a good job cumming for me, sweet boy,” you praised, “but i haven’t finished yet. be a good boy and help me feel good, okay?”
his eyes were brimming with tears from the overstimulation, as you hadn’t stopped riding him. he nodded and said, “i’ll be g-good for you!”
you smiled at him, slowly getting off him. you turned around and bent yourself over and arched your back, presenting your wet pussy to him.
for a few moments, he was mesmerized. he sat up and took his finger to your slit, playing with it and massaging your clit. you praised him with your moans and “good boy, tamaki”s.
he lined up with your cunt and pushed in, relishing in the way you squeezed him. he started out very slow.
“c’mon baby, harder for me.” you asked
tamaki whispered out, “i-i don’t know if i can take it…”
“i know you can, for me.”
he sped up his pace, quickly moving to please you. his normally quiet apartment was filled with the noise of his skin colliding with yours.
tamaki whined, his recently virgin cock overstimulated by the pure feeling of the way your pussy clenched on him and pulled him in.
you heard sniffles behind you and craned your head around to see tamaki pouring silent tears.
noticing your concern, he managed out, "feels s' good!"
you smiled wide at him, "you're so pretty when you cry, tama."
the sight of tamaki sent you over the edge, and you climaxed on his dick and moaned out. he fucked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and then pulled out slowly and gently.
you turned around and nearly collapsed on him, pushing him to lay back down on his couch, arm hooked around you. you both laid there, breathing deep, for a moment.
"how was your first time?" you asked, placing your hand on his chest and gliding your fingers on his skin.
"it was amazing, and i had it with the perfect person."
~
#my hero academia#mha smut#mha#mha x reader#tamaki x reader#tamaki amajiki#tamaki smut#tamaki amajiki x reader#tamaki amajiki smut#anime smut#sub tamaki
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,, we're similar, dont you think? "
pairings : gf!ethanlandry x fem!reader
summary : what would you do for love?
content warnings : gore, killing, mentions of body parts out place, very morbid for some readers, possessiveness, jealousy.
**lowercase intended**
and there you were. squeezed by a few sweaty bodies but all you can focus on is him. and the way she flirts with him. your thoughts being disoriented, breathing heavy as you try to calm yourself down. how dare he, have the nerve to ask you to be his rightful date to this party, but flirt with another girl. not to mention, shes your friend.
the music changes with the way you think. eliminate whoever is stopping us from being happy. your calm facade broke with the way you broke her nose.
you pull stacy into the alleyway, pushing her down onto the rough floor that made her skin crack. her once soft skin is now full of dirt and cuts that you knew he disliked.
" you told me youd stay away from aaron! you promised, you whore! " you stomp towards her, before kicking her face. your high heel met her nose bridge which was so close to her eye, something you aimed for. if you had kicked her eyeballs in, she might not have the chance to ogle her eyes at aaron.
" i told you, hes mine! fucking mine! " you screamed, before looking around. you found a metal pipe, lifting it before smashing her face. you always hated how she tried her best to look better than you whenever shes around aaron. you liked how the sound of the metal pipe clanked with her skull, with the way her screams harmonizes with it.
" who's the ugly one now? " you whisper to her smushed face. one that didnt look pretty. her face was bleeding, skin torn apart like she had been eaten alive by a dog. she choked on her blood, her neck too, bruised and bleeding.
standing up, you stumbled backwards before registering what you had done.
" fuck.. not again.." you whispered before turning around. no one seemed to be near you.
★
ethan coulnt help but stare at you. clear rage in your eyes as he followed what you were looking at. you looked jealous despite your calm facade. he watched you pull the girl away from the guy, pulling her out of the bar. the bar had parties every friday and ethan decided to see what the hype was about. and he saw it. watching you kick the girl, fuck the girls face up was something he didnt expect to see. maybe he should come to bars often.
" fuck..not again.." he heard whisper. he was in the dark, hid quietly behind the large bin he just peered out from. he saw the way you pulled gloves out of your bag, as if you had planned this. you pulled stacy over to the bin he was at, before lifting her up and dumping it in. you knew the authorities will just assume this as another ghostface attack.
you then stumble out of the alleyway, running off into the night. ethan found it appealing, how incredibly attractive you sounded and looked. he knew this wasnt your first time.
★
" come on babe, we just talking. "
" didnt seem like talking to me aaron. "
" oh so we back on first names now? and you say youre the mature one. "
" says the one who told me that stacys someone i shouldn't worry about- "
" oh fuck off, you're just fucking insecure! " his voice ringed into your ear. you angrily hung up the call before heading to bed.
the next morning, you thought about what had happened. maybe shes not someone to worry after all. you decide to apologize to him to patch up your relationship even though your brain disagrees with it. you love him, after all, you would do anything for love.
" good morning babe.. i.. im sorry about yesterday. maybe i overreacted.. im coming over for dinner to make us something. how about that? " you left a voice note.
after getting ready for the day, your phone buzzed.
aaron<3
aaron : hey babe, i got your voice note. its fine, maybe i did too. sorry for saying such words to you, i don't mean any of that. id love that! see you tonight baby! <33
me : see you love!! xoxo
★
as you rummaged through your bag for the spare keys to aarons home, you realized you had left it at home.
" shit. uhh sweety? i forgot the keys, can you open the door for me? " you knocked on the door.
almost instantly, the door slightly open. you were confused, why didnt he just open in fully and engulf you in a hug like he usually did.
" babe? " you slowly push the door open, looking down as you wanted to remove your shoes. however you saw a silhouette of someone.
" aaron- oh my fucking god. " you step back as you watch you aaron dangling with his intestines wrapped around his neck, from the ceiling fan. blood spilled every where. by now the door behind closed to you pushing it shut.
as you take steps towards aaron, you cant help but cry out.
you tiptoed, hands on his bloodied cheeks and his eyes have been dug out, empty hollow filling the void. the once bright brown eyes you loved to look at is now gone. looking down at where his intestines would be, there was a note.. with his pair of eyes.
the note read : he should have kept his eyes on you.
" fuck.. aaron… please. " you wished and prayed that maybe, just maybe hed just wake up.
looking around, you wanted to pull aaron down so you could properly grieve. your hands move back and forward in the air as you hesitate to touch his intestines.
but then his arm moved, waving at you. you stumble backwards, falling to the floor as he spoke.
" i thought you liked touching me? " and a humorous laugh came after it. but his mouth didnt move an inch. before you know it, aarons body fell towards you, having you push yourself backwards. a figure, ghostface to be exact appeared before you.
" holy shit. " you cursed before lifting yourself to defend.
you run to the kitchen to find all the knives and scissors to be missing. nothing was there. you make a run to your shared room.
" fuck. " you realized you could have just ran out of the house since its still unlocked. once you locked yourself in the shared room, you knew this was going to be your last moment.
pounds on the door became louder with every passing second. you hid next to the door, where once he manages to open, itd hide you. then it happened, the door swung towards you, and you had a hand out to softly stop the door from hurting you.
when you peer your head, you watch as ghostface had his back turned to you. once you think its safe, you ran out the door, before reaching the main door handle. your hand touched it, held it, but your grip wasnt strong enough. ghostface was strong, too strong for you as he pulled you away from the door and pushed you hard against the wall.
you arched your back and moaned in pain in the process which made ghostface tilt his head slightly. your head felt like it was spinning.
" fucking kill me already. " you whimpered out, breathing staggered.
" dont you see? we both are the same. you killed your friend because she couldnt stop looking at aaron here because you love him. and i killed aaron cause i wanted to be the only one looking at you. just because. ill let you figure that your own. " he giggled, almost like how a shy boy would.
a.n : ta da!!! m very proud of this piece thank you very much, haha.
#imagines#oneshots#ethan landry angst#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x reader#scream six#jack champion x y/n#jack champion x reader
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//santa's sleigh
ft. geto x black!reader
. *. ⋆summary: geto can only think of one way to settle the boredom and desperation that occurs when you two get stuck in traffic on the way to a christmas party
. *. ⋆contains: gn!reader, they/them pronouns, fem!bodied fourth reader, chubby reader, a lot of back and fourth, dirty talk, “car sex”, praise, pet names, slight cursing, geto is well versed with reader’s body, alcohol consumption (just… two shots), fingering, fem!masturbation, male masturbation, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, geto edges himself!, foot job (with stockings on), geto has a stocking fetish, established relationship!!! //wc: 3.4k
. *. ⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ sin's notes: this wasn’t short and sweet, but i hope you all enjoy it. i’m trying to work harder on my dialogue, so there is kinda a lot of dialogue in this (it simply adds to their relationship🫶🏽
you both peer at each other when the clump of red lights became all too real. the car stops, and you both wallow in frustration. you cave first, irritated only because of your lack of patience. somehow, someway geto would have to make up for his sluggish behavior.
“it’s your fault we’re stuck in traffic you know,” you then extend your lips to your window and turn your head towards the center of the car slightly so you can turn the music up, “if you’d let me do your hair yesterday we would’ve been fine.”
“now we’re super la-”
“shut up.” he retorts. he wraps both of his fists around the wheel and circles them around the diameter of it. his fingers, decorated with a plethora of rings scrape the suede. when they meet at the bottom; his body slumps forward and his forehead bonks the horn. ultimately making it sound off, and forcing the car in front of you to retaliate. beeping theirs twice and throwing up the lovely bird outside their window.
“you should’ve just done it.” he continued on, ignoring the altercation before.
you turn in your seat, angrily perplexed. first, he cut you off, and second of all, it was to shut you up! over his stupid head of hair? outrageous!
“and how was i supposed to do that, huh big guy?,” you cocked your eyebrow and got in his face quickly. all he saw was a red blob zip across the middle console; he swears he saw little flakes of glitter fall from your eyelids as you shifted.
“if you weren’t whining and moaning like a bitch yesterday, your hair could’ve been done.”
“i was not,” he finally looks at you and squints his eyes in disbelief, “maybe grunting, but it’s cause you were hurting me!”
“i was only parting your hair geto!” your mouth hung open as you stared at him in utter disbelief.
‘you might wanna move up though’, you tilt your head to the right so he’d see the point five millimeters of space that opened between his hood and the trunk of the other.
‘ope, thanks bae’
‘anyways’ “it still hurt!” he frowns and rubs soothing circles against his cranium in remembrance of the pain.
if there was one thing about the two of you, one common similarity that never failed to shine; it was the way you two interacted. both overly animated and always working the other’s nerves.
“but i was being gentle!” you feign a sniffle and peer at him above the rim of your glasses. “i was being as gentle as possible,” you whine, softly and make a giant heart out of your arms.
“why would i try and hurt you?”
“why wouldn’t you?” he smirks and runs his hands through his hair as he lets his left one situate at the bottom left of the steering wheel. he spreads his legs and moves his seat back to get comfy, because even though the content banter keeps him on his toes; he realizes you two would be stuck in this traffic for a while.
“fuck you,” you suck your teeth and rotate your body away from his. your knees knock against the car door and you slip your hands in between your thighs. he yanks at the red fishnets you have on, so it softly slaps back against your skin — he does it repeatedly.
“what time?” he coos back, sweetly. he licks his lips with a low gaze as he waits for you to spin back around to-
“you’re such a child you know that?” you spin around, nearly dizzy from the number of times you’ve refocused your attention. your brain’s practically on its stem knocking against your skull initiating a subtle throb.
“no, i’m not.”
“mhm, that’s why you’re on my naughty list.” your lips curl into a smile, and you boop his nose with the tip of your finger. you place your elbow on the center space to get closer to him. naughty list, the fuck?
“you don’t have a naughty list, that’s my job. i’m the one with the santa hat and red tuxedo.” he does have some sort of a valid point. he looks a little goofy with his hat, but it doesn’t hide his handsome face features. his smile is stretched wide across his face, as he levels his face with yours on the console and squeezes your cheek.
“owwwaa!” you yelp out and rub your cheek. “i-look at you being naughty! i thought santa was supposed to be nice.”
“well his partner is being a bit naughty.” his face inches closer to yours — treading upon dangerous waters.
“your partner doesn’t agree with that statement.”
then you move closer.
‘move up again’
he shifted his car out of park and lightly tapped the gas to decrease the gap. as quickly as he shifted gears and pulled up; he reversed his actions. ‘thanks’
“mmm, maybe his partner should, considering i can smell the alcohol on their lips.”
now he’s close enough to smell the mix of peppermint and fireball? no, no you have some class. it’s jack daniels — tennessee fire, chased with apple juice and peppermints to rid the smell. along with a pop of peppermint lip gloss.
“yeah? you know i don’t go to parties sober — ever. i admire you for being able to.” you squeeze his cheeks and let your lips brush against his as your eyes shift to the back seat. then back to him, then down to his crotch, and your stare lingers for too long because he asks—
“something caught your eye?” he looks to the back seat. “no.”
he uses two fingers to lift your chin. “you wanna go to the back?”
“feeling hot? that’s why you’re being slick out the mouth huh?” he squeezes your cheeks and kisses your lips. “n-no.” you stutter. your tongue feels oddly heavy in your mouth. it’s enough to make you slur a few slick remarks under your breath.
but before you knew it, geto was coaxing you to the back of the car while he drove to the shoulder and flicked on his hazard lights. all while rubbing and patting your ass as you slipped through the tiny slot to the back. anxious and ready to feel some relief. the constant banter and the light thoughts in your brain left you impatient and horny.
it took a lot more work for him to get to the back. he tried to slip back there with some grace, but he was bumping everything, shaking the car and leaving his santa hat in the front as it slid off from his head dragging along the roof of the car. even the little bit of eco gel he used to slick his hair down was useless as strands stood up and fell along his face on his adventure to the back seat.
“easy peasy.” he gloated as he caught his breath.
“you’ve got some liner on your cheek… and on the back of your seat.” you laugh innocently, and he uses the back of his hand to wipe the black pigment of his skin. “i wonder why.” he rolled his eyes.
“i didn’t tell you to kiss me.” you answered back with that usual influx in your tone — as if you were pressed that he did. “i didn’t tell you to look so fucking good either, it looks like we both don’t know how to ask for permission.” he shrugs his shoulders and starts unbuttoning the ruby red of his tuxedo jacket.
“especially you.”
he peers into your eyes with intent — the intent of murder is right on his mind. and his “murderous” intent was always handled sexually. the slant of his eyes makes you burn under his gaze. his eyes are dark and unwavering; scary but inviting.
“you don’t scare me.” you begin stretching out your legs; chubby extremities, that lead down to chubby feet. you wiggle your toes as your back slips down the door; inching your feet closer to his groin. he obviously wants you to touch him. his legs are spread. one foot is anchored down into the seat, and the other dangles on the ground, because there definitely isn’t enough space for the two of you in the back.
but for these circumstances, it’s more than enough space.
your foot finally reaches its goal. during this “staring” contest you rub your foot along the hardening, gift of god, in his pants. your press your foot against his dick, and use your toes to “stroke” it to the best of your ability. he’s trying not to break, but the amount of pressure you're exerting from that little foot of yours — just to give him some pleasure is working. it’s working wonders.
you’re cracking his attempt at being stoic. you can’t see it, but he’s gritting his teeth. sliding the molars back and forth as if he’s trying to relieve the pain of sore gums. he’s on the stand, trying to plead the fifth, but he fails miserably. his hips buck up, and he grunts a small “shit.”
“what was that, baby.” you gaze with soft eyes. soft, wet eyes, that never fail to make geto wish he had stronger resolve. your head tilts to the side as you try to put your finger on it.
“you’re hearing things,” he replies — stone-faced, but his hands reach out to massage the soles of your feet. geto’s fingers slip and tug at the lacy material, it stretches due to eager fingers. he runs them along the thin black stockings that you wore underneath them, and he fondles what little of your skin he can feel. touching you is his sanctuary.
“mhm? i can hear just fine, i just can’t see all that well.” you point to the big square frames that settle on the plumpness of your cheeks.
“but can you unbutton these for me?” you ask so politely and direct his fingers with your toes. you rub at the space that hides the button and zipper that fasten his pants together. it’s straight warmth across your foot as you massage his bulge with your foot.
“and can you spread your legs for me?” he pleads almost as his fingers work to free himself from his pants. “that’s a simple request.”
the ruffles of your red mini skirt flip up with ease, and you spread your legs just as he asks. you throw your left leg, up and over the headrest of the back seat, but not before dragging it over his thighs. your foot arches as he catches it in his palms, and caresses the souls of them. he’s careful and his moves have been calculated with the utmost precision.
he can’t feel the heat pooling in between your thighs, but you can feel how warm it is and the cool air fanning the interior gives you some relief. “it’s a shame, but i’m gonna need to make a little slit in these.”
he pulls at the fabric once more and moves his body to meet yours in the middle. this interaction requires more effort on suguru’s part, because, like always you make him work for it. even though you want it just as badly.
truly, you want it more “su… these are my favorite you know.” he’s not listening; were you even talking at this point? just babbling nonsense. he’s inching closer. closer. and closer till his hands are situated in between your legs. the decision he’s considering is whether he should stuff his hands in your stockings, or just rip a perfect little slit, so he can sink a finger inside.
“there my favorite too, doll.”
as always the latter wins. it fulfills his fantasy in a better way, a better execution. so he defies you. he gets to splitting the stockings right where nobody can see them, but him.
when he finally sees skin, he’s losing his composure. stars, hearts, and pearls cloud his vision when he sees the wetness situated between your folds. he separates them with his fingers and slips just one finger between them. from the entrance up to your clit; he’s covering his finger in all that slick. all while maintaining eye contact. entrancing you with his eyes.
making you squeeze your hands together, and knit your brows when he massages your clit. a smooth ooh, baby — right there you coo. “i know, i know.” he soothes.
he blows strands of hair out of his face and licks his lips when he sees your expression. fucked out eyes, and ragged breaths. each whisk of his finger against your clit, forces constricted labored breaths. hazy eyes, and more of your arousal leaks onto his leather seats.
“you’re so beautiful.” he whispers.
“mmph,” you squeeze your eyes shit when he pushes his finger harder against your clit, “i-thank you.” you sigh.
“now i need you to do something for me.” he begins. you can barely tell that his lips are moving, but you nod your head and hum a short response. “i want you to play with yourself for me while i help you. can you do that for me?”
“yes.”
“thank you, baby.”
once he pulls his finger back, a thick coat of arousal sticks to his fingers. creating a connection that he snips when his tongue wraps around the digit. he lets it settle on his tongue, and gets closer so he can steal a kiss. a simple, slow, lazy kiss that grants you a taste. sweet and simple. you moan into his mouth sucking every bit of you off his tongue. ’s good, honey’
like clockwork, your fingers drop to the mess in between your legs, and suguru indulges in the feeling of his hand and your foot caressing his dick. just a few pumps and he’s stuffing his fingers back inside of you for some lube. taking it and smearing your sweet mess all over his tip. giving himself lazy, slow strokes while your toes parted to compensate for his girth.
he shuddered from the mesh pattern stroking at the thick vein that bulged from the base of his cock all the way up to his frenulum. it felt heavenly. his adam’s apple bobs with each gulp he takes. the pleasure spirals up to his brain; nearly clouding his thoughts.
“geto, are you gonna tell me what to do?” you reel him back to his senses.
“yeah-fuck, just one finger first,” he instructed. you listened obediently; rubbing your middle finger innocently between your folds before you sunk it in. slowly, perfectly slow until you stuffed yourself full with it. you squeaked out in pleasure and embarrassment. his eyes bored into the space between your legs. stuck like glue, transfixed on how perfect you looked when you played with yourself.
but embarrassment flooded your senses. your thighs slowly pressed together in an attempt to shield yourself. geto was aware that at some point your resolve would crumble. you couldn’t take it. mutual anything tore you apart. you tried to focus. you really tried to the best of your abilities.
yet, seeing the beads of pre cum trickle from his tip made you hot. seeing how tight of a grip he held around his dick made you ache and squeeze around your finger, and here he was planning mutual enjoyment, and you couldn’t tell who was enjoying it more. who was licking their lips more, grunting more? it wasn’t fair how much of you he could see.
it was geto who was more fixated on the way your fingers drove in and out of your pussy. the squelching and thick drops of arousal that splashed on his seats were rewarding enough. he tuts, squinting his eyes and reaching forward when they hide your cunt from his gaze.
geto’s hand wrap around the plushness of your thighs, “don’t be embarrassed, keep them, open baby. i want to see everything.” his fingers dig into the plush of them, turning the tips white. a smile tugs at his lips when you yelp out in pain. but you feel yourself clench from the simple action of control.
he took the opportunity to spread them again, and this time he used his dangling foot to hold yours down. leading his foot over your calf and locking it under your thigh — fair restraint. keeping them entangled ensures that you can't snap them close no matter how badly you try.
“s-sorry.” you muttered. now slightly embarrassed that he crept even closer towards you in this cramped back seat.
“instead of apologizing why don’t you just make yourself cum. can i see how pretty you look when you cum?”
his features turn soft. he gazes with soft, pleading eyes and hunches over to run kisses all along your covered thighs. nothing else sounds better than your soft submission of, “yes, i can.”
“put another finger in, okay?”
“and go slow, like this-“ he wraps his thumb and index around his cock to show you how he’d like you to do it. he ruts his dick into the circle he forms and glides it through at a snail's pace. “this slow okay,” he points his head towards you; indicating the start of your demonstration, “show me.”
“slow like this?” you relax around your finger, and slip your ring finger in. “just like that.” he affirms. “good job, baby,” he lifts the foot you had wrapped around the back headrest, and brings it to his face. “match my pace.” he hums.
he kisses the sole of it, and urges you on; making sure each of your moves punctuates at the same time. quiet affirmations slip off his tongue as he watches you, i love watching you play with your pussy, baby
“thank you, thank you.” you moan
you know i love it when you're good to me.
“you ‘bout to cum?” he asks. it’s a question he knows the answer to. instead of fucking yourself with your fingers, you’re rolling your hips against them. panting and groaning for release. going a little bit faster than the pace geto had set for you both. he was waiting for it, because he wanted you to cum first. he was painfully close to his release, a white glob of cum slowly dripped out of his tip, and he bit his lip to hold it in.
the glob falls on his index finger, and he brings it to your attention. “look at what you did.” he lets go of your leg and reaches out to cradle your head against his.
“yeah?” you groan.
your foreheads press together and he circles his index around your clit. he smears his cum over your clit, and applies enough pressure to make your legs shake. he tilts his head further down and drops a fat wad of spit on it, and when he guides it the wet sound increases. sticky and cumbersome; loud like the gentle smacking of puckered lips.
you draw your head back and let it fall against the car window. your legs twitch and your body slumps against the door, as a deep groan travels up from your chest all the way to your throat. you’d been holding your breath chasing your release, and all you needed to topple over was geto’s help in rubbing it out.
“you did so well.” he smiles and kisses you all over. your cheeks, nose, and even your sweaty forehead. he moves your underwear back over your pussy and pats it, then he tries to reassemble the stocking and make the slit as invisible as possible.
he stuffs himself back in pants suit with great difficulty and sets his sights on the driver's seat. his hair is a fucking mess, but he places the santa hat right back on its temple. he gives you a stupid smile from the front seat, but you look gloomy.
“you didn’t cum.” you pout.
“it’s okay,” he reaches back to cradle your face, and kisses your plump, tear-stained cheeks. “when we get home, i’ll fuck you just how i please.”
“so? do we really need to go to this party?” he flips his indicator on and slowly merges into the thinning traffic.
“well…we’re already late, so we don’t really have to. you lay back in the backseat, and give him a thumbs-up,
“perfect.”
tagging: @blkcupid @artemisthestar @venusflytrapstar @sirenh4ll @si00p @444yeager @rayemelanin @privateparty3 @chosoguapo @getosbunny
#sin writes ೃ#geto x black reader#geto smut#geto x reader smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#geto x black!reader#jjk smut
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name: and if we should see the stars...
pairing: Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader
word count: 2175
summary: Eddie shows you the stars
content/warnings: mutual pining, sexual tension, fingering, friends to lovers, Eddie calls reader princess and baby, reader has a vagina
author's note: SO I started writing this a week or two ago, and my entire plot bears some striking similarities to one scene from @upsidedownwithsteve's Camp AU Eddie fic that was posted yesterday. I honestly considered not posting at all because anons love drama where there is none, but honestly I worked really hard on this one and I'm happy with how it came out. Go read that fic right now if you haven't, it's absolutely stunning and gorgeous in every way and deserves all of your attention.
-
There was love, and then there was whatever this was: sitting in the back of Eddie’s van drinking shitty beers with the back doors wide open and the radio turned down low. It was something sweeter, something unspoken that you could keep wholly to yourself.
He was so casual with his touches, one arm thrown around your shoulder, leaning in close to try and match your perspective. The chain he wore around his wrist was cold against your neck, but you were running so hot with him this close that it was a balm against the burn of him.
“D’you see that one princess?” He was pointing, but your gaze didn’t make it past his hand. The pretty calloused fingers, the rings shining on his knuckles, the flaked polish on his nails where he’s chewed and picked at them since the last time you painted them for him.
“Mmhmm.” You lied anyway. Who could look at the stars when the sun was this close? He burned so bright, so bright, you didn’t know how to look away. You didn’t want to know how.
“I’m pretty sure that’s Orion’s belt.” He traced the stars like he could touch them. You thought they’d move for him, if he wanted them to. Eddie was special that way.
“Just his belt?” You were barely aware of what you were asking. You just wanted for him to keep talking in that excited timbre. He was so pretty when he got passionate about something.
“The rest of him is there too, if you look. It’s a little harder, but if you lean this way…” He trailed off, shifting to make room for you to see and then frowning when you didn’t manage to get quite where he wanted you. He huffed. “C’mere.”
That’s all the warning you got before he propped his beer against a threadbare blanket and hauled you between his legs like it was the most natural thing in the world. For Eddie, maybe it was. For you? You were already burning for him, and the press of his chest against your back set you ablaze.
If he noticed your pulse quicken as he slid on arm around your waist, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, he didn’t say anything.
“So those three are the belt.” He pointed to the same spot again. His voice reverberated through your body, that close, and it was unfair of him to expect you to do anything other than listen.
“The bright ones?” It was a strain, but you did your best to find them in the wide expanse of the sky. He was right to move you. It was easier to find them, even though your mind was hardly on the task.
“That’s it, princess. So, if you draw two lines down to that star and that star, that makes his legs.”
You tried and failed to visualize it. Instead, your brain stuttered and got stuck on how different it sounded when Eddie called you princess while you were sitting in between his legs, with the warm press of his thighs boxing you in, with his mouth right next to your ear. You had to shut down the thoughts that followed, particularly the ones that started with his hand that was still resting casually on your waist, two fingers just skimming the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up.
“A-and the rest of him?” Your voice shook as Eddie’s hand on your waist shifted, his fingers brushing more solidly against your exposed skin, raising gooseflesh in their wake.
If he noticed what he was doing, he was playing it cool. Cooler than you, at least, as he gestured again with his free hand, tracing a few more stars that you could barely separate from the tapestry of the night sky.
“That’s his body. He doesn’t really have a head.” He explained it like your mind could be on the stars when he was tracing constellations into your skin, never one to be still. You wanted to protest, to tell him how unfair it was to expect you to learn when he was touching you; when he was so close that your whole world was leather and smoke and Impulse deodorant that shouldn’t smell good on him but did anyway.
You tried desperately to think of a question to keep the conversation. It needed to be something clever, that would turn the focus away from the way you press your thighs together for friction. Eddie spoke first, however, his voice low and teasing in your ear.
“You’re not even listening, Princess.” He laughed, the sound so full and dark that it made you shiver. There’s no hiding that when he had you pulled against him bodily, his fingers dipping more brazenly into the waistband of your skirt.
“’s not true!” You protested, “I just can’t see them the way you can.”
Eddie couldn’t care less if you could make out the constellation or not. He was playing a game of chicken against himself, tracing the waistband of your skirt and then dipping one finger down, then two, drawing a loopy pattern that was barely straddling the line between casual and what he actually wanted.
Your breath was coming out shallow, and that bolstered him on. He found a sensitive spot on your hip and you hissed so pretty, leaning back into him. He pulled back, afraid he’d gone too far. There was a balance to this, to the way he had you squirming in his lap, eyes glassy and lips parted. Balance be damned, he wanted more. He dipped his thumb into your skirt, brushing that sensitive spot again.
“Eddie.” The way you breathed out his name went straight to his cock. Selfishly, he wanted to keep you like this forever. Hanging in the balance, flushed cheeks and clenched thighs, almost fucked out with barely a touch in the back of your friend’s van. He wanted this just for himself. Wanted you.
“Fuuuck, princess.” Is all he could manage for a moment. His pointing hand comes down to grab your hip, holding you still so you didn’t squirm too far back and end things before they’ve started.
There was an order these things were supposed to be done in. A conversation, a confession, maybe a kiss. You skipped all of these and took Eddie’s hand, pulling it down to the hemline of your skirt and letting it rest on your thigh.
He almost couldn’t believe you were real. Somewhere, he stopped thinking.
“Been thinking about these thighs all night.” He admitted, his lips back at your ear. You didn’t care what he was saying. You couldn’t care when his fingers were trailing up your thigh, taking their sweet fucking time. “So fucking cute with these thigh-highs, got me fantasizing about bending you over the back seat.”
You could barely keep your eyes open, rolling your hips into his touch when he finally brushed the soft cotton of your panties. It was the faintest touch: a test, a request, an acknowledgement. You needed more.
“Eddie, please.”
He fell quiet as he slid his hand into your panties, watching you with rapt attention like he was afraid you would change your mind. You almost found yourself embarrassed at the damp fabric until he was hissing in your ear, his middle finger sliding across your slick folds.
“Shit.” He buried his face in your neck again, rocking his hips against your ass, “So fucking wet for me, baby.” And that was a new one, baby, but you couldn’t unpack that when his fingers were exploring you, looking for what made you feel the best.
His bracelet was cold against your belly as he let his arm rest on your front, his fingers finding your clit. You were already keyed up from being so close for so long, it didn’t take much to turn you into putty in his hands. You were all heavy breathing and soft whimpers, half lidded eyes and parted lips.
Eddie thought he might be in heaven with the way you melted into his arms. He was careful with you, worried he would scare you away with the strength of his desire, and so he made this about you. Your body was soft and warm against his, and when he slid a single finger inside of you, he started to think he wasn’t going to make it.
You tossed your head back against his shoulder, his name falling from your lips in a tone he never could have made up in his fantasies. Eddie was talking, but he wasn’t even sure if the words had any meaning anymore. He could only think about the way you moan for him as he slowly pumped his finger in and out, his thumb rubbing a gentle circle on your clit as he tested what you liked.
“You moan so pretty for me, baby. Fuck. Wanna make you feel so good.”
The second finger was where you started to slip. His fingers made you feel so full, you couldn’t help but clench around them and the sensation had him moaning into your ear. He rutted into you shamelessly, the denim of his jeans rough through the thin fabric of your skirt. Your toes curled as you started to feel the coil of tension building in your core and you reached out to grab a blanket, his knee, anything to keep you grounded as you felt your control slackening.
“Fuck, Eds, so close, I’m- fuck.” The litany of curses that fell from your lips were like music to Eddie. He peppered kisses to your neck as you rocked on his fingers. Your world narrowed to several points; There was just you and Eddie, his fingers buried in your cunt, curling to find your g-spot, his cock hard against your ass, his lips on your neck, his voice in your ear making your head spin with sweet nonsense, and then you were falling apart. Your body curled in on itself as you clenched around Eddie’s fingers, your hands wrapping around his wrist to slow the onslaught of sensation as he rocked you through it.
When he pulled his hand away, you were breathless and flushed, so pretty with the exertion of your orgasm. Eddie knows that he is well and truly fucked. There was no coming back from this, and if there was, Eddie knew he wouldn’t want to. Not when he knew the way you keened when his fingers found just the right pressure on your clit, not when he knew how wet and hot and tight you would feel, not when you were looking at him like he hung the moon.
“Was that okay?” He checked on you immediately, shifting you in his lap for a better look at your face. You laughed at his worry, still high from pleasure and sensation and him. When you reached up to cup his face, he leaned desperately into the touch, eyes closing instinctively. He was warm and so close and so pretty.
“More than okay, Eds. That was… Fuck. That was so good. Can I--? Do you need--?” You trailed off, embarrassed as Eddie opened his eyes, his gaze dark and intense. He watched you for a moment, calculating, and then he kissed you. Someone needed to set this right, after all, and it was clear it wouldn’t be you.
His lips were as soft as you always imagined they would be. The kiss was sweet, but too short. It was a question, a declaration, and an indulgence all at once. He pulled away to look at you, and then he was leaning in again, gathering you up in both arms so that he could kiss you breathless.
“’m okay, princess.” He said finally, when he thought he was done kissing you. You pouted, though, and then he was kissing you again, peppering them across your face like he’d wanted to do for months.
You curled into his chest, wrinkling your nose when he wiped his hand on the blanket on the floor of his van.
“Maybe, uh… Maybe we can do this again? In a real bed. After, uh, a real date?” Eddie was shy, suddenly, unsure despite the evidence of your affection still sticky on his fingers and his blanket. You would have laughed if your heart didn’t swell so suddenly with affection that you thought you might cry.
“You’re telling me this wasn’t a date, Munson?” You teased, reaching up to kiss him again, just because you could. He went willingly, smiling against your lips. “Got all pretty for you and everything.”
“A second date, then.” Eddie corrected.
“A second date.” You agreed.
He held you as the two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. His eyes were on you, your eyes were on the stars. And maybe it was love after all, something you could share, just the two of you.
You couldn’t find Orion on your own, so you just found your own patterns in the sky.
#Eddie Munson x Reader#Eddie Munson Reader Insert#Eddie Munson Smut#x Reader#Stranger Things Reader Insert#Stranger Things Smut#Two Cakes!#This fic was inspired by a gif of eddie in a bracelet that I couldn't get out of my head#2000 - 2500#Smut
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Summary; your girlfriend is worried that you might end up injuring yourself badly during one of your match- you’re known and loved for always taking high risks.
Warnings; none.
As I started writing this, I imagined reader with a wrestling style similar to Iyo Sky and Shotzi.
Fluff and angst.
Making your way to the top in a company as huge as the WWE was hard to say the least, not many had this opportunity but when you had the chance to show the world you deserved your place here, people were quick to love and admire you and your love for taking risks.
That’s how you made a name for yourself, you were known to take way too many risks, you weren’t scared of hurting yourself or to be in pain- the higher the risk was, the more excited you were. It honestly thrilled you to jump from ladders, to go through tables or chairs- nothing like this scared you.
The only one who wasn’t thrilled to watch you put your life on the line every week or so was your girlfriend- you had been together for over a year and at first, she didn’t seem to mind your wrestling style that much. That changed when the creatives decided that Gionna and you would have a run at the Tag Teams Championship.
You had been on the main roster for a couple of years now, you had seen so many stages in the making, yet coming as he was still being build never failed to take your breath away. It was so big and honestly, seeing a stadium this big, still empty, was just as intimidating as when it was full.
Moments like this were some of your favorites- the calm before the storm. Seeing so many people working on getting the stage ready affirmed your love for what you were doing. Just like everyone else, you had moments of doubt but a moment like this always reminded you how your choice to pursue a wrestling career had been the good one.
Sitting down on one of the chair in the crowd close to the ring, you watched the people working on the chamber until your girlfriend sat down on the chair next to you. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, Gionna leaned in to kiss you, “ hey baby, been looking for you!”
“ Sorry, I lost track of time. What’s up?”
“ I was just missing my girlfriend. It’s impressing, isn’t it?”
You nodded as you gave a look at the chamber, impressing was an understandable, “ intimidating even. I can’t wait for the match!”
“ So do I- can I ask you something, though?”
“ Sure, what is it?”
“ As much as I’m excited for the match, I’m worried- I’m scared you’re going to hurt yourself, baby.”
A gentle, reassuring smile tugged at the corners of your lips, taking Gionna’s hand in yours, you wanted to reassure her that nothing bad would happen to you, “ babe, I’ll be fine- really, you don’t have anything to worry about. You know me and you know I always end up being fine.”
“ But what if one day you’re not? What if you land badly and hurt yourself?”
“ It’s part of our job, you know it just as well as me. And I trust every single one of you I’ll be in the ring with, it will be okay.”
Lately, it became more recurring to reassure your girlfriend about the risks you were taking mostly to entertain the crowd, but also because you loved it. You didn’t mind having to repeat that you would be fine every time, she had every rights in the world to be worried, “ still! An accident can happen so quickly.”
“ I know and I promise to not do any non-rehearsed move, okay?”
“ Thank you.”
Gionna seemed content with your answer as she relaxed. You stayed there for a bit before having to join in for your media obligations- you didn’t mind those most of the times, they could be fun, especially if you weren’t alone. You had a couple of interviews with your girlfriend, so you knew you were going to have fun.
The day of Elimination Chamber came so quick, it felt as if you had won your qualifying match yesterday. To say you were absolutely thrilled for your match was an understatement, you just couldn’t wait to show the world why you were considered one of the best wrestlers at the moment.
Making your entrance after Gionna, you passed by her pod and blew her a kiss, she shook her head with a smile on her face- even while in characters, you couldn’t help it honestly, you had to show love to your girlfriend. The crowd always loved to see those little silly but cute interactions anyways.
As the match was at its peak, only Naomi had been eliminated as of now, you took the opportunity that everyone was focused in the ring to climb up on one of the pods. Tiffany seemingly had the same idea as you as you both ended up on top of the same pod while the crowd was going wild.
You didn’t have much time to execute your move but it had been repeated many times in training- with a springboard dropkick, you made Tiffany fall, leaving you with enough room to execute your plan. You quickly looked at Tiffany to make sure she was alright after that fall, you might not be scared to hurt yourself but you were terrified at the thought of injuring a friend.
Thankfully, she took the fall like a champ and seemed alright and with that to ease your mind, you executed a springboard moonsault, landing on Liv, Becky and Bianca. As planned, they caught you well and the move didn’t hurt much.
In the end, Becky was the winner as she seized the opportunity to pin down Liv after she eliminated you not even a second before. The outcome was truly disappointing, you didn’t mind not winning and not getting a shot at the title but Liv did and you wished she was the one getting the Wrestlemania’s match.
After a while in the locker room, Gionna finally joined you, she had stayed backstages longer than you, you smiled softly at her, “ this was one hell of a match, i’m proud of you baby!”
“ I’m the one who’s proud here, you literally stole the show babe.”
“ Do I get to say that I told you everything would be fine?”
You saw her raise an eyebrow at this, “ so you’re telling me you’re not all bruised up? That when we cuddle tonight, I won’t see bruises?”
Shrugging, you didn’t really care about bruises, they would eventually fade after a couple of days, “ it’s not that bad and I’m barely hurting- plus what I did was cool as hell!”
Gionna stayed silent for a couple of seconds, as if she was hesitating to choose her words, “ okay fine, it was cool as hell but it still scared me.”
Now, you knew why she was hesitant to say this- she knew you weren’t going to let it go any time soon. You smiled ear to ear, proud to hear that your girlfriend found what you had done during the match nice, it was probably the first time she complimented your risky moves- you’d usually only get compliments on more classic ones and it made you really happy to hear that.
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Hotch being obsessed with readers tattoos? (I have a back and sleeve full of them hehe) Kissing them whenever they are exposed…Reader would have a little ‘A’ on their body somewhere hidden between the others, that he absolutely adored :)
i really took one thing you said and made it the entire blurb i'm so sorry omg
--
Suds cover your hands, foaming over your skin and making it incredibly hard to grip the mug you're washing. You manage to rinse it before it can slip and shatter in the sink, and you hook it over the drying rack.
It's one of Aaron's favorites, a '#1 Dad' mug that Jack had gifted him for fathers' day. You're not sure he'd ever forgive you for breaking it, even if you bought him a new one from the dollar store the very next day.
You hear your husband's footsteps from down the hall just as your fingers hook around the edge of a bowl you'd had cereal in hours earlier. The milk is cemented to the ceramic but you scrub it out in no time, feeling Aaron's hands wind around your waist just as you prop it up to dry.
"Need any help?" He asks, voice low and slightly raspy. You gather that he's been napping, probably a product of the case he'd returned from yesterday after dark.
"I'm okay," You shake your head, rinsing the soap off of your hands before it starts to itch, "There's not too much to do."
He hums appreciatively at your gesture, normally the one to do the dishes. You don't mind picking the chore up for him, though, not when he looks like he'll be knocked over by a small dog. He needs his sleep, and you can wash a few dishes for it.
Before you can reach for another bowl his hand reaches for yours and this thumb brushes over the skin at the base of your ring finger. It clears away the few remaining bubbles there and reveals your tattoo, not one you've kept secret intentionally but one you've never happened to reveal.
"What.." You can hear the frown in his voice, "Babe, did you get a new tattoo?"
"Not new," You shut the water off, pulling the towel from over your shoulder and patting your hands dry, "I got it, like, three years ago."
"I've never seen it before," He challenges you, one eyebrow raised. His dark eyes are skeptical as they rove over the 'A.H' inked into your skin.
"That's 'cause my ring covers it," You snatch your wedding band up from where it's laying on the counter, safe from the soapy mess in the sink. You slip it over your finger, perfectly covering his initials.
"I don't understand," His brows furrow now, "Why'd you get a tattoo that's always covered?"
"It's not," You remind him, nudging your ring off of it, "Remember that one summer where Jack always wanted to go to the pool?"
"Yeah," He hums, eyes still glued to your finger.
"Well I didn't want to lose it so I left it home," You explain, toying with the diamond on the band, "But there were a few.. incidents. People not knowing I was married. After the third time I said 'fuck it' and got your initials tattooed."
He stays silent, and all you feel is the press of his lips against your cheek, feather-light. It's sweet, it's sincere, and it warms your heart, a similar rush of heat as when you'd dunked your hands into the dish water.
"It's like a permanent ring," He muses, voice still set at a calm murmur. You nod, tipping your head back to nudge your nose against his cheek.
"You should get one too," You giggle, already excited to hold his hand while he sits in the chair, "Maybe across your forehead, though. And it should be my face, not just my initials."
"Deal," He teases, arms tightening around your waist, "But the next tattoo you get has to be a tramp stamp of my handprint."
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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A Little Too Sweet
First fic is ready! And I'm on time if you just forget yesterday happened /lh
This one is for @crying-over-cartoons aka Grey, I hope you enjoy!
Prompts: Pomatter Pie from Waitress; release, dribble, cluster, single, view, swear, file, crack, despise, decoration; 37
AO3 Link
Fic under the cut!
Cole despised kitchen duty. He learned after years of trying to cook dinner—and failing miserably enough times—that he was not a chef. Somehow, though, he’d ended up here. He couldn’t exactly blame Master Wu for asking him to help out. Thirty-seven pies was a lot of pies. Zane couldn’t do it alone, and Kai, Jay, Nya, and Lloyd were busy setting up decorations and furniture.
If Cole had to be paired with anyone for this job, he was glad it was Zane. First, he actually knew how to bake, something Cole wasn’t sure their other teammates could say. Second, he knew Zane wouldn’t judge him if he screwed up.
They stood in the middle of the kitchen. Cole leaned over the counter, holding a manila folder in his hand. Zane stood beside him, adjusting the tie on the back of his pink apron.
“‘Mrs. Pomatter’s Famous Fair Pie,’” Cole read the title, written in curly black sharpie. It reminded him of the case files the police kept on known criminals in Ninjago City. “Wonder what makes it so famous?”
“It’s won the Ninjago City Fair’s pie contest four years in a row. It’s surprising Master Wu was able to get her to give the recipe to us.”
“It is for a good cause. Raising funds for the new children’s hospital and all…” Cole flipped it open and started reading the recipe. “Crust: first, put dry ingredients in a bowl. One-and-a-fourth cups of flour… two tablespoons of sugar…”
“Tablespoons?” Zane tilted his head. “That seems like a lot.”
Cole shrugged. “Hey, if it’s won the City Fair four years in a row, she's gotta know what she's doing.”
The ingredients were clustered together in front of them, along with bowls and utensils. Zane pulled out the sealed jar labeled “sugar” and a ring of metal measuring spoons. He measured out the tablespoons and Cole noticed the puzzled expression on his face.
“What’s up?”
“It’s just… While I trust you would not lie to me, this much sugar with the amount of flour could mean the crust will come out crunchy. Would you check the recipe one more time?”
“Crunchy?” That made sense, he supposed, like when you make tea and the sugar doesn't fully dissolve. He checked the recipe over again and grimaced. “Ah yeah, it’s teaspoons. My bad.”
“Don’t trouble yourself too much,” as Zane spoke, he poured the excess sugar back into its container. “It’s a common mistake. The two words are remarkably similar.”
And Cole wouldn’t have troubled himself, if it weren’t for the fact that those mistakes continued happening. He would read the recipe—misread it, to be precise—Zane would quickly catch on, ask him to double check, and Cole would realize he’d messed up. The measurements were wrong, or the ingredients, or he’d skipped a step. Once they had it down, though, it went smoother. Zane knew the ingredients, the portions, the steps. Cole just helped by passing over what was needed.
Then it came time to roll the crust out. The last time Cole rolled something out was when he tried making bread rolls that ended up more akin to rocks, so he was more than a little apprehensive. Zane must’ve sensed something as he was making the filling over on the stove, because he came over and noticed Cole standing over the mound of dough, holding a rolling pin, and definitely wearing a dumbfounded look on his face.
“Would you like some help?”
“Uh,” and if he wasn’t before, Cole was sure he was now. “Just a demo, if you don’t mind. Instructions aren’t being very helpful.”
“Of course!” Zane chirped. Cole handed him the pin and Zane set to work. He pinched a generous amount from the flour bag, sprinkling it on top of the counter, then rubbing it on his hands and the pin. “This is to ensure the dough does not stick. Here, would you assist me?” Zane held the rolling pin out to Cole again. He took the free end. Zane tugged him forward, standing behind him. He reached around Cole, placing his hands on the outside of Cole’s on both sides of the pin. “Now we roll.”
Cole tried to ignore the warmth spreading across his face as they guided the pin across the table, flattening the mound into a neat oval. “Wonderful!” Zane’s ever-chipper voice exclaimed before he took his hands away. Cole relaxed, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. Zane went back to making the filing, leaving Cole to ignore the fact that his heart rate had picked up somewhere along the way.
By the time the crust was done, so was the filling. Zane put the first pie together while Cole rolled out the next batch. Once he finished, Zane started assembling the next pie. Cole let out a breath. Honestly, this was going better than he expected. Plus, Zane’s explanations were actually helping! They only had thirty-five more pies after they finished these two. Speaking of which….
He flicked the switch of the light and viewed the pie through the oven window, only to be faced with the horrifying sight of dark purple filling bubbling up and spilling out. He swore and pulled the pie out, placing it on the top of the oven. Filling dribbled down the side of the ceramic tin, the crust had cracked and split apart, even the decorative slits they placed in the top were lost among the molten filling erupting from beneath its barely browned surface.
Zane examined the monstrous concoction. He tilted his head, his lips pulling into a slight diagonal line. He swiped a bit of the dripping filling from the side and tasted it. Cole glanced away. Shit. I’ve definitely ruined it.
“It appears we forgot to distribute the butter properly in our cover. Shame, the filling tastes rather good.”
Cole stared at him, dumbstruck. Then, he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Zane asked.
“Nothing, it’s just… you’re so calm about this. We haven’t baked a single pie, our crust is bust, and you’re able to just sit here and… shrug it off.”
“Of course, it isn’t a disaster. We’re ninjas, we’ve handled worse.” As he said this, a smile tugged at the corner of Zane’s mouth. “Besides, this time it was my fault. I should have given the butter more time to chill.”
Cole kept laughing. Zane just smiled.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “I believe this means the pie I’m currently working on will suffer a similar fate. In addition, it will take us another two hours to make more crust. Not only that, but the sale begins in four.”
Master Wu hummed as he passed through the floor of his tea shop, examining each of the centerpieces on the tables, the lights, and the streamers floating down from the ceiling. He reached for one of the floating pie cutouts, pulled on it, then released it, satisfied with how it held. He turned to four of his students, all standing tall with bated breath.
“Well, guess we better start baking.” Cole grinned and held up the pin, cherishing the way Zane chuckled at him.
“I’m impressed. You all have done very well.” He smiled when he saw their tension release. “These decorations are wonderful! As is the lighting, but we are missing one thing.” He glanced around. “Where are Cole and Zane?”
“I think they’re still in the kitchen,” Kai offered. “I’ve been smelling pie all afternoon.”
“And none of it was burnt! Well, not after the first few hours, anyways,” added Jay.
“Still, we need that pie for the sale, the doors will be opening in—” Before Wu could check, Zane and Cole came rushing in, covered in flour and dough and arms laden with pie.
“Ta-da! Thirty-seven perfectly baked pies!”
“And right on time too!” Zane said, placing his neatly on the long table set up next to Steeper Wisdom’s register.
Wu walked over, taking in the enticing smell of berries and buttery crust. “Perfect! I believe we’re in for a rousing success tonight. Thank you all for your help.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Zane. These pies would’ve been a bust without his help.” Cole nudged him.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Zane told him.
“You’re sweet, Zane.” Cole smiled. “Maybe a little too sweet.”
“Doors are opening! To your stations, everyone!” Misako called, getting behind the counter. She glanced at the two, giggling a little. “Cole, you may want to clean up before we begin. I’ll take your apron, Zane.”
Cole rushed to the back, hoping there was a spare uniform back there he could use. As he hurried to get ready before the crowds poured in, he couldn’t help thinking about the smile he swore he saw on Zane’s face.
#ninjago#lego ninjago#cole brookstone#zane julien#glaciershipping#they're so cute they're so fucking cute jesus chrimbles#i've been avoiding tumblr bc of spoilers i return only to give gifts#zane ninjago#cole ninjago#i need to learn to tag also. irrelevant#hope you enjoy the fluff grey!#ninjago fanfiction#ERRATICALLY TAGGED MATERIAL
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A scenario in which Genshin has this message board similar to Animal Crossing where we can type anything we want. The Creator is mute and can only offer encouragements/praises by leaving cute lil love notes to the Acolytes on this particular message board. Thus, it is considered a sacred relic and all offerings are left here. The Creator, as a player, finds these offerings as a daily treasure box with random goodies lol. Acolytes chosen as vessels on that day always look forward to the...(1)
(2) …messages, especially since the Creator has a habit of changing up team comps and mains so nobody feels left out. It deepens both the rivalry and camaraderie amongst the vessels, especially when the Creator ends up getting a new character that deviates the supposed schedule (since they have to focus leveling up and testing that particular character on the field).
A/N: Enjoy!
Word count: 2000, exactly. I know, I'm surprised too.
CW: None
Masterpost
taglist: @iyohime
There was a welcome chill in the air as the two guards walked down the well-trodden path. A few leaves had begun to change their colors; it would not be long before the rest would follow suit. It was a quiet path, even though it was a well-known and well-traveled path. Dozens took this path out and around Inazuma City every single day, bringing their thanks, well-wishes, and gifts.
One of the guards was dealing with the last, carrying in his arms an elegantly carved cherry-wood lockbox, inlaid with amethyst and iolite. Every day, her Immortality gathered offerings, some from the noble houses, into boxes like these to be blessed by a priest and then sent down the path. It was rare for him to get a glimpse of the contents, but he’d seen them this morning. He did wonder why these things were being sent on- mushrooms, thieves’ insignias, rusted machine parts and smoldering cubes. He’d heard that yesterday’s offering had a beetle try to slip out from under the lid.
It wasn’t his job to worry about Their Light’s offerings, however. Ahead of him, the path made its final turn.
At the end of this famous path lay the humble shrine of the Creator, a pearl of Inazuma City. The nobles constantly fought against the Shogun, wishing to expand this shrine that sat so dear and close to Their heart, but time and again She rebuffed their efforts, keeping this place as such.
The low, red and white walls ringed the plot, a tall and wide gate sitting astride the few stairs up to the main area. Sitting as though built into the great sakura tree that dominated the place was the heart of the shrine- a bulletin board, crooked and cracked with age and wear but still standing, sturdy and strong. Paper grew from it, forming sheets and knots; ink occasionally seeped from the cracks, swirled around by an invisible force. Offerings were given at this shrine in the Creator’s honor, and if They were pleased, messages or orders would come loose from the board. This was the daily dealings that Inazuma and her Shogun did with their God.
Sitting all around the shrine were the gifts laid and structures built, either left by the Creator in distaste or taken in gratitude and sublimated into the great tree that dominated the shrine. Prayer slips illegible and jutting from the bark everywhere, fine jewelry being absorbed by errant branches, food being digested inside baskets woven from living roots.
The guards frowned as they approached the center of the shrine. There, like in any of the other days, sat the irregular sheet of paper the Creator had made for them that day, the one that they were tasked to retrieve for Her Eternity. But instead of a pristine paper marked with neat lines of characters, a stream of thick ink poured down its length, dripping into the pan that collected what fell from Their board. Before either of them could react, something on the board broke, sending several half-formed sheets, several malformed and knotted wads of paper, and the ruined orders tumbling down into the pan alongside a new burst of ink.
The two guards shared a glance. This had been happening with concerning frequency these days- what should have been a simple offer-and-receive turned into… this. The guard with the box went off to set the offerings down and retrieve yesterday’s container, freeing it from the day’s growth of branches while the other guard inspected the board more closely.
Advice for a marriage, encouragement to give things another try, admonishment for lying to a friend… the handwriting was all identifiable and identical, but nothing on the board looked like it was what he was supposed to look for. No official seal, no addressing of the Shogun or any of her major subordinates, nothing. It took a minute more of searching before he found something promising, folded inside of one of the sizable knots that broke earlier. Pulling the paper out and inspecting it, he realized it was what they were looking for.
Once he read it fully, he realized that it was but another harbinger of unrest.
There was an uncomfortable chill in the air. Kamisato Ayato and Guji Yae Miko outwardly sat calmly on opposite sides of the table, but everyone else in the room shifted their gazes between the two with visible unease. Not only were these two bright minds of Inazuma frequent foes, skirmishing over any minute detail that got in between them, the world had given them something new over which to lash out at each other- as well as those unfortunate to be in the same room. In fact, two of their frequent targets were in the room at that very moment.
With visible wariness and caution, Thoma set a steaming cup of tea in front of Ayato. Ayato glanced down, delicately grabbed it, and took a sip. “Thoma.”
He flinched. “Y-Yes, Waka?”
“Do you remember my order for tea?”
“Of course I–”
“What was it?”
“Black tea with a touch of milk–”
“And?”
Thoma sighed. “Waka, we both know that there weren’t any of those tapioca beads here. It’s an odd enough good that we had difficulty procuring them for the estate, how do you think they would stock those here?”
“Then perhaps my servants should have thought ahead, hm? Quite unwise to think of a beloved of the Creator like this.”
There was an unsettling chuckle, sending a chill down the spines of most of those in the room. “My my, little Ayato,” Yae Miko smiled behind a hand fan, “perhaps one should know how that Great One expects Their chosen to behave before admonishing others.”
“Oh,” Ayato laughed back, “a thousand pardons. I was just caught off guard, being chastised about ‘proper behavior’ by someone who must have the rite of penance memorized by rote.”
“How cute. Perhaps one might need a reminder about who was elected Their chosen first.”
“Perhaps one needs a reminder of who was chosen after putting their old, disused toys away.”
There was a sudden tinge of ozone in the air. “Do you think Their Grace has abandoned Their beloved? Come now, do you really wish to test that assumption?”
Another voice joined the conversation, one that had remained calm through the developing argument. “Now now,” Shikanoin Heizou looked up from his pile of snacks, “both of you back off; no sense in wasting your breath on each other. The Truth and Light can have more than one favorite, can’t They?”
Yae spared a glare his way. “Such a thing is easy to say for a simple mind that demands all of Their attention. Do you think no one found it odd that a certain someone necessitated a new set of artifacts? I just wonder what might possess a mind like that to claim that they ‘could not resonate’ with a set of artifacts that worked exceptionally well for everyone before them. Quite curious indeed.”
“For your information–”
The grand doors at the end of the hall slid open, revealing a simply-dressed attendant. The room quickly hushed, sitting attentively to the announcements she would proclaim on Their behalf. She took a seat at the end of the table, not hiding her discomfort in being near Yae and Ayato.
She cleared her throat as she straightened out the papers in her hand. “Their grace has again accepted our offerings and has given our nation new orders for training and improvement of Their favored. Those from Inazuma include the prestanding…” she hesitated, “Shikanoin Heizou and Thoma.”
The mood in the room darkened. “…And?” Ayato asked.
Yae leaned in. “Who else?”
The attendant seemed scared of what she was about to say. “Alongside the two newcomers…”
“Newcomers.” The word slid off her tongue dripping with disgust.
“Well,” Ayato asked, “who are they?”
At that moment, the other, less impressive, set of doors slammed open. Everyone turned to look at the intruders to the reading of their Creator’s guidance. Silhouetted in the doorway was a broad, muscled wall of a person whose overcoat was flung open. Red lines traced his body ending at two crimson horns, stark against his white hair.
A great voice boomed through the room. “Guess which Oni finally had their dream about that golden comet! That’s right, Arataki ‘The One and Oni’, ‘Numero Uno’ Itto! Here to take his rightful place alongside all the other Vision holders atop Inazuma City and serve That Big One Above The Sky!”
A tired voice behind him spoke up. “Boss…”
Itto quickly pulled a person from behind him up to his side, rambling through his next sentences quickly. “–Alongside the Deputy Assistant of the Arataki Gang, Kuki Shinobu! Who had her dream of the violet comet just last night. And who would also very much like to work for Them.”
As the guards escorting the two interlopers pushed them into the room and gently guided them to their seats, the rest of the room turned their eyes to the attendant in disbelief. She struggled to meet any of their gazes, choosing instead to bury her head in the paper she held. “The two newcomers are… Arataki Itto and Kuki Shinobu.”
The reactions were… less than ideal.
Most of the people in the room were venting their frustrations at each other or at the attendant, in complete disbelief that the Guarantor of Eternity would choose, much less give an iota of attention, towards the braggart oaf of Inazuma. But two people in the crowd aimed their frustrations at a specific target.
“Curious,” Yae Miko glowered at the newest members of the team, “I thought Their Grace only bothered to call upon their servants who had more than a handful of sense in their skulls.”
“Yes,” Ayato continued. “I thought our Undying Light chose only the best and brightest, but They must certainly be taking pity on the… less-deserving.”
“Ah, you know,” Itto shrugged, “felt like a coin toss whether you get picked or not. I guess I won this time! And hey,” his tone began to sharpen, “perhaps They just wanted someone that didn’t complain about others all the time and who can actually, you know, care about other people? They’re more than just the god of being high-and-mighty.”
“Boss,” Shinobu grabbed his attention. “They’re jealous and trying to get a rise out of you. Deep Peal’s had Their hands full and the flunkies are upset that They’re not paying attention to them. Let them huff and be upset all they want, you and I are the ones getting attention.”
“Oh, I see…” He turned back to the two insufferable Vision-wielders. “So is it true? You two just have your underwear in a twist over nothing?”
“Boss!”
“My,” Yae cut in, “what an observant little weasel. I wonder which of us Electro users might actually be of use to Their Grace. A priest hundreds of years in training, or a little runaway who can’t bear to show her face and true colors.”
“Hey,” Itto stood up quickly, partially shoving the table back, “back off! You clearly don’t prove that age makes you better, you hag! Memory serves, I was the one who won our little competition while you called it quits! So clearly, the Head Honcho prefers someone with a little staying power.”
Ayato raised an eyebrow. “This coming from the Oni who was laid out for weeks? Yes, excellent display of constitution, there.”
“You too? Alright, bring it! Both of you, right now, I’ll prove I can–!”
A great, snarling peal of thunder broke through all the noise, drowning out every voice in the room, rattling the walls and windows, reverberating inside the chests of all gathered. Everyone froze, the thunder continuing to roll as the seconds dragged on. When it finally subsided, the room hung deathly silent as few seemed willing to make another sound.
The attendant cleared her throat. “…Shall we move to the next bullet on the agenda?”
#Itto you idiot#I finally understand why people like writing him though#sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact#genshin cult au#ask response
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My " 'Jon's characters are related' tree" corrected
So....upon first posting it, I've realized that I've forgotten Roman and Wiggly. But that's not all, I can do better. Yesterday, I've realized that I also forgot Daniel/Stopwatch... So, here is a corrected version of the family tree. Though, I still deliberately did not include Wiggly and cie. for my sanity's sake. I could have added the Emma and her family to the tree, but since her and Paul don't have children together, let alone children played by Jon, I chose otherwise.
So... here is some explanation on how I connected the Murray and Monroe families the the Matthews one :
Again, Roman doesn't share the same surname. And Roman being the leader of Nibbly's cult, I wouldn't be surprised (and HC) that he is much older than he looks like. Probably around Sheila's age actually... So, it's through his sister that he is connected to Paul ! But again, the ages wouldn't have fitted that well if he was his great-uncle. So, I went down a generation below. Roman's niece is actually the Matthews' matriarch, Paul's grandmother.
Which makes Linda Paul's second (degree) cousin, despite them being around the same age. I partially explain that by the fact that, at least in my HC, her mother was something around 30 years younger than Roman (yeah, yikes) .
In the same order of ideas, her children are Paul's father's cousins, his first cousins then, despite them being younger than most of Richie's generation. In fact, I don't think Trent is much older than little Jerri... Talking about them, I know Gerald isn't the biological father of at least half of Linda's children. But because we don't know who their fathers actually are and that Gerald's name most probably is on the birth certificate, I am going to put them as his children. Not that it changes anything for the sake of relating each of Jon's characters.
Stopwatch is Gary's son. No real reason if why not ?
Also, here's some HCs about the dynamics in the family !
The twins know for Daniel's power, but not for the fighting ring. Richie's been so overexcited to learn that, that Daniel feared he would spill the beans. Thankfully, he didn't. Under oath not to. All the family think Daniel has martial art classes, only his father knows the truth about the fights.
Daniel calls Paul and his siblings uncle and aunt. Jerry did try to break him out of the habit, he's their first cousin not their nephew. But it just made it worst. Now, Jerry is suspecting Gary to bribe his son to purposefully call him that just to piss him off.
Girl Jeri knows that Jerry has nephews and a first cousin. But not at first ! When she saw them for the first time, walking pass them on the street, she legit stopped in her track and searched for a solid minute why they looked so similar to Jerry. He had to clarify why later.
All the men are made from the same mold in the family ! No seriously. If Little Jerri had actually been raised by his parents, instead of being left in the woods as a baby, he'd look like his father's exact copy.
When Paul brought Emma to a family reunion for the first time, she did make a joke/comment on the fact they all look like clones. Which was particularly hilarious in the "Forever an always" timeline...
Linda has no idea that she is related to the Matthews.
#hatchetverse#team starkid#jon matteson's characters are related headcannon#the guy who didn't like musicals#nerdy prudes must die#nightmare time#black friday#family tree#headcanon#I have the memory of a goldfish#now...to tag each characters 😭#roman murray#linda monroe#gerald monroe#trent monroe#seaton monroe#jordan monroe#river monroe#gary goldstein#stopwatch#paul matthews#trevor npmd#richie lipschitz#boy jerry#girl jeri#the lumber axe starkid
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An unhinged Elden Ring fashion deep dive
So yesterday, I had A Moment and I ended up feverishly researching every item description for the nobles’ embroidered robes for like 2 hours. While doing so, I discovered that there’s actually a pretty distinct culture around clothing for the nobles of the Lands Between! The costume design in this game is so outrageously good.
Putting this under the cut, as this is going to get long:
Robes
All robes are embroidered in a similar fashion, with slight variations that change with each color. It seems like the nobles who wear this style of robe are the nobles in regions sworn to Leyndell, including Limgrave and the Altus Plateau. The Carian royals in Liurnia notably dress differently, as they are independent and have their own distinct culture. Let’s look at each type of robe individually:
1. Upper-Class Robe: “Embroidered, bright green robe worn by noble children. Donning such a robe is traditionally the child's first show of burgeoning independence.”
Rya wears these robes, as she is Lady Tanith’s adopted daughter and thus a noble child.
2. Ruler’s Robe: “Luxurious robe worn by lords in a smaller nation. Its fine blue mantle serves to prove its wearer's status.”
I believe that “lords in a smaller nation” refers to the vassal lords of Leyndell and the smaller domains they rule over, such as Mt. Gelmir or Fort Haight. Kenneth Haight wears these robes.
I am assuming that the blue mantle serves to distinguish a fully fledged lord from a noble child, as the description says that the mantle proves the wearer’s status.
3. Consort’s Robe: “Fine robe of white silk worn by Tanith, Lady of the Volcano Manor.”
Though Tanith is our only example, I believe that the name implies that all consorts of lords would wear these white robes.
4. Official’s Robe: “Grubby blue robe worn by magisterial officials to carry out their grim tasks. Surveillance, executions, gruesome rituals... The darkest duties drive the wheels of mankind.”
These robes are worn by Inquisitor Ghiza, who served as Rykard’s executioner while he was Praetor.
5. Marais Robe: “Robe with a black mantle across the shoulders. Customarily worn by the head of House Marais.”
This robe, worn by Maleigh Marais, is exactly the same as the Official’s Robe, and indeed, the description for the Marais Mask adds that “The Marais family has a dual history spanning generations, serving as both executioners and castellans of the Shaded Castle.” House Marais is described as carrying out similar duties to Inquisitor Ghiza’s—both descriptions use the term “execution”. So it makes sense that they would wear the Officials’ Robes as a house that does dirty work for their domain.
The black mantle is probably an added flair piece to show that this is an old, long-lived family with a history.
Masks
Masks are surprisingly important to the culture of these nobles! Every image I’ve included at the top of the post (except for Rya) includes a mask or some kind of face covering. I think we can glean some information about the role of masks in society from this first mask:
1. Ruler’s Mask: “Mask in the image of a wizened sage. Customary dress among lords in a smaller nation. […] Such a mask illustrates the qualities of an ideal lord: chiefly, wise and possessing a certain defanged geniality. One at the center of society often finds these qualities most expedient.”
This description implies to me that the purpose of wearing a specific mask is to communicate the qualities that you desire to embody as a noble. Basically, it shows how you want to be perceived in society.
Again, it uses the phrase “in a smaller nation,” so it’s the noble vassals of Leyndell who are dressing like this.
2. Consort’s Mask: “Mask worn by Tanith, Lady of the Volcano Manor, in the image of a foreign queen. […] Long ago, when Rykard first set eyes on Tanith, she was working as a dancer in a foreign land. Soon, he made her his consort.”
It’s interesting that Tanith is common-born, but her mask is specifically in the image of a foreign queen. I think Tanith wears this mask to project an image of regal power, so that the nobles of the Lands Between are more likely to respect her despite her being both a foreigner and a commoner.
3. Marais Mask: “Mask in the image of a white-haired young noble. Customarily worn by the head of House Marais. […] The Marais family has a dual history spanning generations, serving as both executioners and castellans of the Shaded Castle. This mask bears the likeness of the first of their line.”
This mask is modeled off of the founding member of House Marais. Just as with the black mantle on the Marais Robe, this mask serves to highlight the longevity of House Marais. This mask tells us that this is a house that is proud of its history and forebears.
Image 6 - The Volcano Manor mystery portrait
This portrait can be found in Volcano Manor, and there have been many theories on who it depicts! This figure wears a mask that appears to have a beard, a crown with a red cowl, and a green Upper-Class Robe. After having done all this research, I think the most convincing theory is that this is… Rykard himself! Boring, I know. But I think the reasons why I believe it’s him have some interesting implications:
I think this portrait was painted when Rykard first established Volcano Manor, and was sworn to Leyndell. He wears the customary attire of a young noble—a green Upper-Class Robe and a mask that resembles his own face (he’s the only member of his family with a beard). In his early days as Praetor, this is how Rykard would have dressed to fit in with the Altus Plateau’s other nobility.
Rykard’s other portraits were clearly painted after he rebuked the Golden Order and committed blasphemy—he is decked out in snake-themed attire, and snakes are said to be enemies of the Erdtree. So he probably wouldn’t have always dressed like this.
Honestly I can’t think of anyone else who this person could be where it would make sense for them to be wearing a green robe. Rykard didn’t have kids at the time, there was no other lord of Volcano Manor, and if they were a consort or an official, they would be wearing white or blue. Unless the robe IS blue, and this is a case of Volcano Manor’s frustrating color-warping lighting.
And that’s it! Let me know if I missed anything! If you made it this far, thank you for indulging my mental illness
#elden ring#zorayas#tanith#rykard#costume design#elden ring lore#you know what brought this on?#i was drawing rykard in his snake fan era and i couldn't figure out what type of robe he should be wearing#and guess what. i STILL don't know
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Oh, my car smells like chocolate
(modern au steddie)
*the title comes from "chocolate" by The 1975*
Eddie Munson is a man of many talents. He's pretty decent at singing, his guitar skills are at least star quality and he can fix any minor fault around the house. He even found out he's capable of organizing all kinds of events, which he chose to be his job after scraping through college. What he's not good at though is baking and keeping his mouth shut. So when Chrissy, who just begun to work with him few weeks ago, told him in distress that the bakery which was supposed to provide a cake for Saturday's event cancelled last minute, Eddie said that he'll do it then. He. Baking a fucking cake. Of course he wouldn't do it! The only thing he even attempted to bake was chocolate chip cookies and that was a disaster. His kitchen barely survived. So he's afraid to even think what would happen if he'd try to bake a full on cake.
Now then he has two options. Number one: he'll go to every bakery in town to try to get a two store customized cake for at least fifty people. He's ready to beg for it if needed. Number two: he'll admit his idiocy and tell Chrissy he won't bring any cake for Saturday. He's sure after shooting disappointed look his way she would figure something out. The choice was simple. Of course he chose option number one.
After spending yesterday's evening and half of today searching for a kind bakery, he's pretty close to admit his defeat. Everywhere he went he got the same answer: no one will take his order at such a short notice. So now he got less than 24 hours to bring the promised cake to the venue with no idea how to do that. He's slowly leaning into choosing option number two when his eyes catch on the sigh across the street saying "King Steve's Bakery". Well, worth a try even if the shop seems small and he doesn't have much hope left.
He enters and he's welcomed by cosy interior, all wood and stone, with many mismatched pieces of art stuffed around the walls. No one appears to be here at the moment. He gets closer to the counter, where there's all kinds of baked goods displayed. Eddie has to admit all here looks delicious. He can't get distracted though. He has another fight this day ahead of him. He rings the small bell, similar to the ones at the hotel receptions, and waits. Soon, though the doors leading to the back, comes the most beautiful man Eddie has ever saw. Sharp jaw, soft blue eyes, hair that looked like professionaly styled and a splatter of moles and freckles. Not to mention clearly athletic body with muscular arms accented by fitted polo shirt. The apron with a crown he has on weirdly gives him a sort of gentle aura. The name tag says Steve so that's probably the baker's name. He dust his hands from what looks like a flour and with a charming smile openes those perfectly shaped mouth.
"What can I do for you, beautiful?"
Is it just Eddie or it bacame suddenly hot in here?
"I...um... I- I mean, I want to buy a cake". Fucking hell he couldn't embarrass himself more, could he?
"Well, you're in right place then." The baker softly chuckled, looking right at Eddie. "So what you're exactly looking for? You want something ready or a custom made one?"
"Right, yes, I want a custom made, two store for fifty people. Best if it's floral related but honestly right now I'll take anything." The event is for some florist association and ideally it's supposed to picture some kind of flower that's on their logo but he thinks at this rate they're lucky if they get anything at all. He looks hopefully at his potential savior who returns the look with raised eyebrows.
"Two store you say? That's a helluva lot of work. When's the deadline?" And there, that's when Eddie's last chance will shatter to pieces.
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?! Dude that's a really short time you give me. This place is small but we do have other clients, you know?" Shit, fuck and other cursed words in this language. Not only he won't get the cake but also he somehow managed to piss off the perfect man.
"Yes! Yes I know, really. It's just- I'm like desperate. I'm ready to beg." Especially to you. "Tomorrow's this big event and the bakery cancelled last minute and I promised I'll do it but I couldn't bake to save my life and I probably visited every bakery in this shit town and you're my last chance." He finished lamely very much aware he started rumbling. Steve stared at him through his monologue looking more and more amused with every word. Finally, after what felt like eternity of silence filled with fast beating of Eddie's heart, he speaks out sealing his fate.
"Alright. I'll do it." What? Did he hear right? Does miracles truly exist? "But." Ah. There it is. " You'll have to help me."
"WHAT? Did you not hear when I said I can't bake???" He looked at confident face of the baker like he was crazy. He can't be serious, right? RIGHT??
"Yes I heard. I also heard that you promised that you'll be the one making it so it's a compromise. Don't worry, I'll do the most of work." That doesn't make Eddie worry any less. "So? Tonight at seven I'll meet you here? I'll close up and we'll be ready to bake." This bastard has the guts to grin at Eddie self-satisfied like he didn't just sentenced his bakery to die in flames. But alas, he doesn't have much of a choice. He won't find anything better and if all he has to do is sit and watch as Steve works his magic, maybe occasionally mix something? then deal.
"Deal. I'll meet you tonight. But don't blame me if by tomorrow you won't have a place to work at." Steve laughed, and oh he even has a perfect laught, making Eddie a blushing virgin again.
"Deal. Till tonight, beautiful boy."
"Fuck- I mean- my name's Eddie." This man will kill him someday if he won't die in the fire tonight.
"Alright, Eddie. See you." His name has never sounded so beautiful.
"Right, see you." He choked out and one last time looked into those eyes, now full of mirth and amusement. He quickly walked out so he wouldn't change his mind and went back to his place. He looked at the clock. A little past two. So he has three hours to get ready and mentally prepare himself for tonight's disaster. Heaven and hell help him.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#modern setting#baker steve harrington#eddie pov
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My reality
AN: This is a submission for @flordeamatista's Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge wich i found not long ago! Hope you'll like it!
I did ask for some extra promt though, which i recieved yesterday, and man, did it get my brain going!
The prompt: "I don't mean as much to you as you do to me, and it's fine.". I’ve accepted that as my reality.”
It is also written with Rihanna and Ne-yo - Hate that i love you, on repeat.
WARNINGS: angst, fluff, Bucky being a gentleman(yes that is a warning), heartbreak
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
It was done, Steve was gone, Sam gave away the shield, the new Captain Amercia was actually a villain and Bucky couldn't really find his place in the world anymore. When you first saw him, he was having dinner with an old man, a friend most likely given they had no similarities at all. It warmed your heart whenever you saw them after that. The old man, Yori as you came to find out later was a regular, more often that not sitting alone at the bar, but when the mysterious man appeared he always seemed a bit happier. It made you a bit more happier too. Something about a sad, old man sitting alone broke your heart everytime. The man, James as he introduced himself a few nights ago, let his eyes find yours from time to time, and you were unable to look away. His eyes had you in a chokehold, but you never talked to him, you never waited for him to start a conversation with you either. Usually you just run to the back saying you need to pack some stuff, or do inventory. Yori always chuckled.
-You should take her out. - he murmured to James one night. He rolled his eyes.
-I'm not ready to date. - James said indifferently.
-I didn't say date, i said take her out. You should meet younger people you know, i ain't gonna be around forever. - he chuckled.
-The hell you aren't, you're over 200 and still more fit than me. - James joked, lifting his beer to his lips as you walked back from the back with a carton of beer to be put in the fridge behind you. You weren't a power lifter, but being a bartender did give you some muscles, yet your skin looked so soft, he had to gulp as Yori chuckled beside him, tearing his eyes away from you.
-What? - he grumbled to Yori.
-Take her out. - Yori said before he got up and walked out for the night.
After you filled the fridge with drinks, you started to clean up, it was nearing closing time and you wanted to get a headstart on the cleaning. The whole time you felt watched, of course James was still here, watching your every move.
-You know.. it's rude to stare. - you smirked without looking at him, he cleared his throat.
-I wasn't...
-Yea you were. - you smiled at him this time and he gave a half smile back. You swear your heart skipped a beat. Yea that smile, that tired half smile of his should be absolutely illegal. You looked away abruptly, resuming the cleaning. He stayed until you closed the bar, only talking then.
-Do you... um.. do you want to have a drink sometime? - he asked but when he saw your - deer in the headights - expression he quickly tried to salvage the situation. -As um friends of course, but you don't ha...
-I'd love that James. - you said cutting him off. Now he had an expression of shock. -i'm working tomorrow, how about after i close?
-Yea, um that is fine. I'll come pick you up. - he said before walking away. You chuckled seeing his retreating form. How strange this man was, how intriguing.
Yori came to the bar around lunch and he sat at his usual spot. He beamed at you, seeing you once in a dress.
-You got a date tonight? - he asked.
-Oh you old man, i think you know exactly. - you smirked at him.
-So he finally asked.
-Don't ring the wedding bells, it's just a friendly drink.
-If you say so sweetheart. - he winked and you gasped, faking being offended before you both chuckled.
After your shift, you waited in front of the now locked door for him, he was running late. You sighed thinking he stood you up. What did you even want from this? Just as you started to walk home a hand gently grabbed your wrist, turning you towards him. You turn terrified only to see James.
-I'm sorry for being this late.. i just.. i. - he stutters as he hold out a boquet of tulips in his other hand. You look at the boquet, then at him and back.
-You didn't have to.. - you start head hung low. He releases your wrist, finger gently hooking under your chin making you look up at him.
-I wanted to. - he says before offering his arm, as you go in search for a bar.
He is more fun than you expected, once he feels comfortable enough you even joke. Then months pass, but he just never makes a move. YOu fall into this limbo of being friends, appreciating his friendship, but he is such a gentleman, you couldn't help but also fall for him. You hear Yori tease him about taking the next step, he says he want's to be there for the wedding, and then you leave, you save your little heart from hearing his answer to the joke. You know the answer, but you wouldn't want to hear it from his mouth.
-See now you chased her off old man. Stop with this, we're friends. - James says as he clenches his jaw then taking a sip from his beer.
-If you say so. - Yori says before going silent. When you get back, the atmosphere is weird, you don't want to address it though.
Another month passes and James appear with a redhead on his arm, introducing her to Yori. Yori passes you a sad look, before taking her hand. You stand there, acting unaffected but from the inside you're burning. Its too cold and too hot at the same time, it hurts, it's like a thousand needles. You keep the tears at bay, you cannot afford to let it show. You walk up to them, asking what you can get to them. The redhead beams at James, saying that they'll have two beers and two whiskeys. You nod and go around to make it.
After you hand them their drinks, you ask the other bartender to cover them for the night. You couldn't do this. Bucky notices your smile falter everytime Nat laughs loudly, you gave away the table they're at. He doesn't know what it is, but he cannot ask. Nat just came back after literally not existing for years, and he's clinging to her. She's one of the last pieces of his old life. She's someone he knows. She's the only other person who knows about you other than Yori.
You pull away after. You don't talk to them, only to Yori, everytime they visit the bar. Nat saw how this hurt Bucky, she couldn't help but be colder to you cause of it.
-It's not her fault you know. - Yori says to Nat one night when you stormed out at the back to smoke, hands shaking. It was one of those nights when you couldn't bear to see them, it hurt too much. Sure, you were just friends, but your heart said something else. You couldn't help it. And now it was broken and hurt.
-What? She doesn't know it hurts him? - Nat rolled her eyes.
-Natalia, they've been building their friendship as they like to call it, for months. Poor girl loved him since the first time he sat foot in this bar. She was patient, she never made a move thinking she's not he's type, telling herself to be just fine with his friendship. And now he's only ever coming in with another on his arms. I know you're friends, i know he's known you most of his life, but you cannot expect someone who hadn't heard a word about you, to not pull away. Since you're back they did not talk.
Nat realizes what Yori means. Well to be honest he quite literally says it. He does not really have a filter, that's what they all like about him.
-Where did she go? - Bucky asks them when he gets back from the restroom.
-Out in the back for a smoke. - Yori says looking in front of himself. Nat motions with her head for Bucky to go after you. And he does. He founds you crouched next to the wall, smoking with shaking hands, battling with the tears that wants to fall.
-What's up ? What happened?
-Nothing happened James. - you say in almost a whisper - i just have a bad day.
-Doll, it's not just a bad day, tell me what happened. Who hurt you?
-No James, i'm not playing this. You just.. why don't you go back to Natalia?
He sighs, his hands in his pockets as he nods and turns around to go back in, walking away once more. That's when you broke down. For once you let the tears fall thinking he couldn't hear them hitting the pavement. His heart breaks even more not knowing why you closed yourself off so much, so abruptly.
The next few weeks the circles only grow under your eyes, you've lost weight too, but at least you sometimes smile now. Only at Yori though, he hugs you too. Oh how Bucky misses hugging you. He still had no idea what has gotten you to distance yourself from him, but he'll have to accept it. Your smile immediately leaves your face when Nat comes in, hugging Bucky. She tries to talk to you too, but you just give her a nod before getting back to work.
Bucky sees as Yori gently squeezez your hand, as if giving you some power to get through the day. Your lips in a tight line as you nod.
Nat leans closer to him, whispering to his ear.
-Did you try to talk to her? To actually ask?
Bucky nods.
-Did you get an answer?
Bucky shakes his head. No. You didn't answer.
-Try again. I'm fed up seeing you both sulking. - she says as he gently kisses his face. Your hands shake again. You need a new job. You cannot bear this anymore. You dropped a tray of beer glasses, cursing as you crouch down to collect the pieces of broken glass. Of course with shaking hands you cut your hand immediately in multiple places. Bucky rans to you, helping you, slotting your hand under the water before reaching for the medkit, to bangade your hand.
-James, you don't have to.. - you try to peel your hands away.
-I want to. Come on. - he says, with a gentle hanbd on the small of your back, ushering you into the back of the bar. You sit down and he kneels before you, gently disinfecting your cuts in silence.
-Why are you avoiding me? - he asks not looking into your eyes.
-I'm no... - you try to say but he cuts you off.
-Yes you are, and i'd at least like to know why, or what did i do..
-James... - his name rolls of your lips with a sigh, breaking his heart a little more. -It's..I don't mean as much to you as you do to me, and it's fine.. I’ve accepted that as my reality. It's fine. You don't have to pretend to care. - you say head hung low.
-Sweetheart, where did you get this form? - he asks making you look at him as he caresses your face, and you can't help but close your tearstricken eyes and melt into the touch.
-I.. i mean.. i've waited patiently for months.. I always hoped that maybe next time. Maybe with the next movie night spent cuddling. But nothing ever happened. And then Nat came and i was forgotten. Again it is alright, you're not obligated to feel anything for me.. I just wish there would be a way to know it before it happens.. To protect my heart from the imminent heartbreak..
-Doll, we're just old friends.. i.. i love you. I was just afraid to take that step.. you deserve so much better. You're so perfect in every way it hurts. - he says looking into your eyes, making you scoff as you wipe your tears away. -Don't scoff. - he says, leaning closer, gently pecking your lips before retreating to look into your eyes lovingly.
#Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge#fanfic#bucky barnes drabble#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky fanfiction#tfatws
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Enemy of my Enemy
This is the story of Volo first making contact with Giratina. Though their friendship quickly blossoms, the help of a deity does not come without a price.
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The further Volo traveled into Turnback Cave, the more sure he was that this was the place he'd been seeking. The tome he'd bought off a merchant from his homeland had described a cave in which the physical realm lay dangerously close to the realm beyond. This cave certainly felt otherworldly with the way the rocks and earth shimmered and the dry ground yielded slightly too much under his feet, and how much bigger it seemed on the inside than the outside. And both the Celestica runes he'd investigated and the local folks had told him of the labyrinth within that had earned the cave its name. When one found themselves in Turnback Cave, the only way to survive was to turn back immediately.
Volo's growlithe barrelled towards him and rubbed against his legs, whining and looking up at him in hopes of getting fed, or at least getting a treat for keeping the wild zubats and geodudes at bay. "Sorry, little one," Volo said, "I don't have anything to give you."
They'd been in this cave for three days, and Volo's supply of food had run out yesterday. He was in so deep that turning back had left him just as lost. Maybe he should have heeded the warnings of the clan members when they'd told him to turn back. Maybe he was about to become one of the many lorekeepers who'd died here, hungry and deceived by how small the cave looked from the outside. But there was one thing left that he was willing to try.
"Giratina?" Volo called out, "I've come seeking you out. I want to make a deal."
A rumble sounded from within the cave, followed by a deep voice that Volo could hear within his head. Tell me your intent, it demanded.
Volo waved his lantern around, but it illuminated nothing but empty tunnel. "Well, I want to meet Arceus," Volo explained. "I want to know why the world is as unfair as it is, and if there isn't a good reason for it, I want to overthrow Arceus and fix it. I heard that Arceus locked you away for a very long time, so I thought you might understand. You do understand, don't you?"
Hmm... came the voice. Then there was a pause that to Volo seemed to last an eternity.
Suddenly, a tunnel opened up before Volo, perpendicular to the one he'd been hiking down.
Come, said Giratina.
Volo started down the path at a jog, his growlithe running ahead of him. The further he went down the tunnel, the more the rocks shimmered as though covered in a plasma veil, and the more the ground gave beneath his feet.
The tunnel then opened up to a room with a high ceiling and a sight Volo would never forget. Against the far wall and behind what looked like a purple force field, an enormous worm-like creature floated a few feet above the ground. A golden crown making up its face, the grey and red serpent was decorated with golden rings of armour. Black tendrils of shadow stretched from its back, each tipped with a blood-red claw. It didn't look exactly like the creature Volo had seen depicted in ruined temples, but was similar enough that there was no mistaking it. And its beady red eyes were focused on him.
Volo dropped to one knee before the creature. "Giratina. At last we meet. I've come seeking your service. I'd like to collect the eighteen plates of life so that I can converse with Arceus, and if you would help, I would be eternally grateful."
You need not kneel, Giratina said. I do not seek worship. It seems as though we are natural allies. I doubt that you will find the answers you seek in Arceus, but I will gladly help you reach It if it means I may have a chance to dethrone It. However, there is something I need help with first.
Volo rose to his feet. "And what would that be?"
As you have heard, I was banished to this realm. You must help me to escape it. There is a golden stone in this room- the griseous core. Pick it up.
Volo peered around, found a jagged golden rock, picked it up, and looked to Giratina for further instruction.
Now, you must touch me, Giratina ordered, pressing his shadowy tentacle against the barrier.
“Will do,” Volo replied. He returned his growlithe and set down his pokéballs- no need for his Pokémon to get hurt if this turned out to be a grievous mistake. Then, he took a deep breath and touched the barrier.
The barrier felt like several inches of thick wax, but with effort, Volo forced his hand through it. He grabbed onto Giratina's claw and was pulled through with ease.
Volo regained his footing. Now that he was past the barrier, he could see the environment in which Giratina dwelled- a strange world of endless purple skies, floating islands with strange geometries, and no life as far as the eye could see save for some bare trees and sickly flowers. "My..." Volo said. "So this is the place you've been spending the past few centuries, huh? It hardly looks like a pleasant place to spend such a long time.."
Not centuries. Millennia, Giratina corrected. But I would guess that you're much the same. Of all people I expected here, a Celestica was not one of them. Has Arceus wronged you as well?
"It certainly seems so. I'm one of the last Celesticas."
Giratina straightened up in surprise.One of the last? When I was sealed away, they were thriving. They were Arceus' chosen.
"Yes. Apparently not anymore." Volo laughed bitterly.
Ha. Then we do have something in common. I am Arceus' child, and yet he treats me worse than he treats his creations. No matter how many times I try to apologize, it's as though he doesn't hear.
"And I keep doing what the old faith tells me to, but it hasn't gotten me anywhere. It's as though he forgot all about us."
Sometimes, I wonder if he has. But your plan to gather the plates... that will work. I am sure of it. At any rate, the task at hand...
Giratina touched the griseous core with one of its tendrils, but nothing happened.
Hmm… it seems that Arceus put a seal on the stone as well. That is... unfortunate.
Giratina paused for a moment as it seemed to consider its options. Then its eyes fell upon Volo.
Would you do anything for your goal? Giratina asked coolly.
Volo met Giratina's eyes nervously, not knowing what to expect. But he'd come so far, and he had so little to return to. "Yes, of course, anything," he said.
Very well, Giratina said. Then, it touched Volo between his mouth and nose with one of its tendrils. The frigid smoke-like substance began to seep into Volo's nostrils, and then within seconds Giratina turned to smoke and entered Volo through his nose, mouth, eyes, ears, and pores, overwhelming him until he was knocked flat on the ground, spasming from the sheer amount of power and substance his body had been made to absorb. He felt simultaneously like he was being frozen from the inside and as though his body might burst like a burlap sack stuffed with too much cargo.
Go to the physical world, Giratina instructed.
Volo tried to think past the pain and understand what that meant.
Your world, the other side of the barrier! Giratina explained urgently.
Volo rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered to the boundary between worlds. It was harder coming through this time, as though the wax had thickened. As he permeated the outer barrier, he felt something begin to shatter around him- like a thin sheet of ice.
Evidently, Giratina had felt it, too. Yes, YES! the creature roared, a vibration that Volo could feel from within.
Once on the other side of the barrier, Volo dropped to his hands and knees. The griseous core he'd been holding tumbled onto the ground beside him.
Giratina tore out of Volo's body through his eye and touched the griseous core, brushing away the damaged barrier with ease before he'd even come out of its origin form, halting the process. Another touch allowed it to transform him into his worldly, altered form. Oh, yes! It worked! Giratina roared, dropping onto its new legs. The barrier is broken! My thanks, Hu-
It was then that Giratina looked back at Volo and saw the sorry state he was in. He was nearly unconscious and laying on his side, groaning as he held a blood-stained hand over his left eye. Volo pulled his hand away for a moment and saw that it was covered not just in blood, but a jelly-like substance that moments before had been contained in his eyeball. And he screamed. And screamed. And screamed.
"What did you do!?" Volo shouted, rising to his knees and looking up at the diety with terror.
Giratina struggled to find words. It knew what had happened: in its rush to see if the barrier was broken, he'd put too much pressure on a small, delicate part of Volo's body, and this had been the result.
I... I was reckless. The barrier is broken, so we will not have to do that ever again. Please, let me help you, human, Giratina replied.
Volo tried to rise to his feet, but stumbled. "Go ahead," he said weakly, probably feeling as though he had no other choice.
With its beak-like mouth, Giratina picked Volo up by his backpack and placed him on its back. It opened up a path straight to the outside, gently flew out, and plucked a branch full of sitrus berries from a nearby tree. It craned its neck back to hand Volo the berries.
It is these that heal you, right?
Volo opened his eyelids weakly. Giratina hung its head when it saw again the bloody mess it had caused.
"Yes, that's the healing stuff," Volo said, putting some enthusiasm into his tired voice. He picked two of the sitrus berries and ate them, juice running down his face. Giratina put down the branch and took a bite of the sitrus tree as well.
Mmm... not bad! Much tastier than antimatter. Are there any other berries in this area?
Volo slid off of Giratina's back, looking haunted but a little more energetic now.
"Indeed there is," he said, surprisingly calmly given the situation. "You don't know much about this world, do you? Well, I'll just have to show you, then. But... not right now. Going through that barrier tuckered me right out. Can you make sure that no one disturbs us?"
Yes, Giratina promised. I will make sure no one comes near enough to see us.
"Thanks."
Giratina laid down in the shade of the trees and watched as Volo dug through his backpack, took out some bandages, and wrapped them around his head to cover his bleeding eye. When Volo was done, he laid against Giratina's side, intending to fall asleep. Giratina wrapped in his head and tail and prepared to do the same.
I'm sorry about your eye.
Volo was quiet for a long time before he responded, but he kept a casual tone when he did. "It's quite alright. I didn't expect that the help of a deity would come cheap. And once we meet Arceus, I'm sure that restoring an eye will be the least It can do."
Ha. Can, perhaps, but will It? That I doubt.
"In that case, once we enslave It and use Its powers to recreate the world, making a new eye will be the least of our concerns."
Now that, I can see.
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Text
The Agent and the Fireman, Part 14
***
“Oh, look who graced us with his presence,” Jerry called out as he walked into the office where Deeks was completing the monthly duty schedule. “You’ve been spending so much time with your Fed friends, I thought you might have jumped ship.”
“Yeah, because there’s an ongoing case where they need my expertise,” Deeks said with a smirk that had gotten him out of any number of minor scuffles in his younger days.
“Doesn’t hurt that there’s your lady agent friend there. What’s her name again?”
“Nice try.”
“It was worth a shot. So, is it safe to say you’re smitten?” Jerry continued, not all dissuaded from his purpose. Deeks paused, debating if he say anything. As much time as he and Deeks had spent together recently, they hadn’t exactly discussed any parameters for their fledgling relationship.
Glancing over his shoulder to make sure there weren’t any listening ears around, and lowered his voice.
“I’ve never met anyone like her before. She’s fearless, says what’s on her mind, has this insane laugh. It’s actually more of a cackle than a laugh. The day she got trapped in that building, I swear she was ready to punch me out when I picked her up and carried her out of there.”
“But then she got a good feel of those muscles, and she was a goner,” Jerry teased. “She actually sounds a little like Monica.”
“Hey, we do not go there,” Deeks reminded Jerry with a jab of his finger. “She’s nothing like Monica.”
Jerry shook his head, looking fondly irritated. “Only you would stumble upon a hot federal agent, and actually start dating her.”
“Speaking of said “hot” agent,” Deeks said, picking up his phone as it started ringing. Jerry craned his neck to look over Deeks’ shoulder, but he’d entered Kensi’s contact information under KB. “Looks like they’re in need of my expertise again.” With a grin, Deeks put his phone to his ear.
“You know, you’re really annoying when you’re in love,” Jerry said under his breath.
***
Kensi had given Deeks the address they thought Jason McHenry might be holed up in, but apparently needed his advice on some device they’d found.
She met him as soon as he pulled across the street from a small industrial building. She wore a vest and hand a rifle strapped to her right thigh.
“Kensi, what’s going on?”
“We tracked McHenry here from his mother. You were right, she dropped a payment at a P.O. box yesterday. We took her in, and she eventually gave us this address,” she explained. “We have people watching both exits.”
“That sounds promising,” Deeks said.
“It is. Except for the device rigged to the front door.” Kensi lead him to a small barricade set up nearby where he could see Agents Hanna and Callen standing. “Given his tendency to burn evidence, we used a camera to check and found this.”
They’d reached the barricade by now, and Sam wordlessly handed him a small tablet. He and Callen both wore protective vests and were armed as well.
Tilting the screen away from the sun, Deeks peered at the captured image. There were a multitude of wires and other electrical pieces that made defining the device’s purpose difficult.
“There’s components similar to the last incendiary device you found, but this one does look like it’s rigged to trigger when the door is opened,” Deeks said slowly, enlarging the picture and working his way from one side to the other. “Yeah, there’s a trigger of sorts connected to this wire.”
“Can we disarm it?” Callen asked.
“Possibly. Though I’d need better imaging and possibly a live camera to be safe.” Deeks looked up briefly to find all three agents watching him closely.
“You tell me where to cut and I’ll do it,” Sam told him confidently.
“Sam’s our resident unofficial bomb defuser,” Kensi explained.
“Mm, should I be worried that you have the need for a designated bomb defuser on the team?” he asked, focused on the picture once again.
“Ok, enough chitchat,” Sam interrupted. “Let’s get some more pictures and—”
“Wait!” Deeks pressed a hand to Sam’s chest, physically holding him back. “There’s a secondary fuse on a time control,” he said, gesturing to the picture. “It’s already been triggered. Everybody needs to move now.”
“How long we got?” Sam asked.
“I have no idea,” Deeks said, nodding towards the building. “It could be any second, especially with how long ago he must have triggered it.”
“Alright, everybody evacuate,” Callen ordered, gesturing for Kensi and Deeks to move ahead of him. Deeks heard Sam contacting someone over his radio and giving similar directions as they ran across the street.
They’d just crossed onto the opposite side when a massive explosion rocked the earth around them. Deeks heard Kensi shout his name as he was knocked to the ground, someone crashing into him as he fell.
***
A/N: Bet you weren’t expecting that!
Once again, yes I know that this is not how things work. Just accept the modicum of procedurally stuff and pretend that it all makes sense.
#ncis la fanfiction#marty deeks#kensi blye#densi#firefighter Deeks#light action#Deeks is hot#fireman au#the agent and the firemant#part 14#ejzah fanfiction
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