#also we have to talk about the face offs being atrocious tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-firebird69 · 1 year

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There's a few things that are important to note these people are so stupid they don't know they should be not doing the stuff we tried to tell them what you're doing is stupid and you just smile and laugh but we are going to continue to pull them out and eventually there won't be any of them here and we know why it's because they're not letting them back in for real. Half of them are stuck no and the place cordoned off and they're doing it it in increments and it's not fully done yet like we were saying it was but it will be after a short time and these idiots can't see it coming I'm really sick of people that are so stupid. I'm putting the warrants out now I want this little stupid f****** pricks in my face in. Now tonight's invasion is supposed to be huge they left around 4:00 p.m. with fleets no it started waves at 11:00 a.m. but it takes 8 hours to get here even for big ships and if several of those but they have to hold up for the others and the first of the waves is starting to arrive it's pretty big and The fleets pretty big but we don't think it's going to do anything it's like a lot of these goofballs. So I started to tell them don't do this and don't do that and it started doing it they're out there doing it. So we're going to tear them a new one minutes. But they think they have half of their people left it's based on what we said they keep telling them how did you figure that out they're saying they heard it on the grapevine and we say good fine and you're going for like 20 minutes and then say you wouldn't fullest would you start to say this to them if you were us would you fool you? And boy are you people stupid to start yommering and we start hitting them finally they shut them off no people dogs and his swine and we did figure out they have absolutely no capacity to understand what we do to them when they bother us and our son has been saying it I don't think they understand anything about us. So you come in and we're being merciful to our son and we found out we're being merciful to ourselves too these people don't need any talks or anything for them to sit there and be unbearable. So you start going after them earlier today to shut them down turn them off forever that's what I mean and we did so there's far too many of you saying on some s*** you have no idea what your status is and I took them down 100%. Now they've been doing this attempted attack attempt to take over for a long time they don't seem to be aware they've been doing that. He lost a lot of people they lost a lot okay and they're running around as if they lost none and it is aggravating to say the least and that you don't know how many people you have and you're just sitting there being atrocious atrocious and we are not going to tolerate it you're not that big anymore your whole realm is shrunken but not by that much you talking smack to us saying mean things running around in circles saying you won and you haven't won anything kind of sick of it. Been here doing some sort of victory dance and your entire kind and your race here more luck are being killed off and you're still kind of sending freaking assholes

I guess we should be through talking to you and your value is gone he said too that they don't recover and we looked and you're not.

It's actually time for us to start going after you with gusto here. And we will.

-the max have started to do a huge number of incursions into their own territory and it was last night and tonight they're going to do twice as many

-they built a whole bunch of walls and put them around towns in Florida about 150 and cities around 20 and there aren't many more towns or cities here and they are grabbing people to go to the wall either side of it rapidly

-it also seeking anybody that has any kind of weapon especially stashes and it's labeling them terrorists and are seeking them on special warrant and they're doing that tonight you were assisting

-I finally a lot of people are bothering their son in the way that is not nice too many people and we began to weed them out and pull them in and question them and Jonathan is one of them and he looks like a real idiot he doesn't know what he's doing and doesn't know how to live and all that stuff in between cuts even in his car will be a little face to eat so I'm starting to fire him it's like after all that work I did and we're thinking what a nutcase isn't understand anything so he puts it mildly and we said you're all done. And we're going after people like him who thinks it there always doing is just sitting there and he's not being extorted and we're not giving anything to anyone and nobody else is now we're going after people who say they're getting stuff and they're making it up but we're taking the stuff they say they're getting

-this is a huge supply of people who are complete assholes to our son here and you look at almost any TV show and it's them you want to look good I know it's a show to come out good and we're finding them huge fines for their dumb TV show and we're taking tons and tons of money and we consider it to be ours because of what they're doing. This girl Lily is drinking the blood of our son's clan from the hospitals and doing commercials and things trying to say the leaders are around and inspiring foreigners to go after them because she's evil and she's stupid they're going after her race and she says how can they just scanning people for what they look like almost in every city every city block and she said oh that's not good start to test it and it's all over the place she had a good cry said what you're saying is illegal and we say we'll make a note that you're saying that stupid s***. Started getting angry I said why didn't you tell me you're going to find you for asking cuz I said a million times and every time you say something stupid afterwards we will fine you she started the only list then we're going to get you and we're going to ding you every time you say that murder you if you mean it and and start now see if you're a trainable animal. Deciding your face saying we can't be trained since we can we can't so obviously you're saying that you won't be trained so you're going to find you I'm starting dinner and find her and said this is what happens everyday and we're taking tons of stuff start weeping so we can't be strong and staring with you this is your small I know you can't but you keep doing it to me so I have to kill all of you off just to have a normal life because you're forcing it and she says we're moving off here and said no you're not you're an idiot and you're killing yourself I've said it write it down because that's what's happening from here on in it's your responsibility to try and survive we're not helping you people anymore oh yeah you retards I cut loose and if we can say we're in you and we gain you then we're digging you you say stop with your pure s*** or we take your stuff we're taking your stuff until you shut your f****** mouth you don't believe it who gives a s*** that's what f****** happening to you little retard so she keeps going on and on and waiting in the living crap out of her and taking her stuff too said she's going to be dead cuz you can't figure anything out

-the stupid as hell they don't know what's happening to them they have no idea that they're all going to die and these people and surgery kind of suck at it and they're not doing their job they saved her but they're not that good at it they have this huge hole in her and they're not working on closing it but anyways close somewhere else truthfully it's really a stupid what they do. It's not a special baby they say it though.

-there's a few things happening and they're taking down huge numbers of these idiots are dumb faces dumb lines included right now there's about 1,500 troops going into punta Gorda and 2500 into Port Charlotte you just select a neighborhoods and they're from out beyond the perimeter and they are pulling out people who are bothering our son all day today and they bothered him yesterday and ones that are still around they got about 1/3 of them yesterday and so far tonight they're getting probably 20% already they intend on collecting them all.

-after Time there won't be many left right now we're putting warrants out and a lot of people especially clones they don't shut their mouths if you pay them and we're going down town on them.

-you put special warrants out on tons of people yesterday and we brought only half of them in and we had to release lots of them but we question them it seems to think that they're winning something they're doing what they're doing and we seem to understand that they don't get what's happening we tried to show them a few things and they kept saying no no no that's not us ing the question. Sweet presented in a different way I have a question them in a way and a lot of them responded we know what's happening and can't do anything about it so we began to figure out exactly what they're doing why and what it looks like is they're trying to figure out ways to stop the max and they can't seem to figure it out and they're trying but they're really not doing well

-and we are also going after the max in a way for trying to grab our son the ones that are and they're not doing well and there's a bunch of important doing well and they know who they are and they tried last night

-is that experience with them trying to grab other people and we know what to do they think it's awesome so forth and I think they have an area and they don't do well and the foreigners go after them as well.

we have a huge number of people watching the show and they're watching this little TV baby I understand it's our songs and he says it's not and they're terrible. We don't want them doing that kind of stupid thing

-tonight of course is different the max plan on taking more action and cleaning out idiots who think that they're in the clear because they made it to the Holocaust house. And they don't want to hear it these people are nuts and they're mean and it's working I have too many idiots here and they're pulling them in

- as well as the insertions, Max her taking area over after area within punta Gorda and Port Charlotte. We're doing it too and we are pulling up on them too in traffic and doing things back that they are doing to our son and we were taking them apart. Is a lot of people around here using our son's name in vain and saying you're saying things and doing things and they're really trying to do terrorist attacks so we're going to pick them up but really the neighborhoods are being taken over and we're doing it too as well as the foreigners and it's going on now

we have an entire program that involves this and it's working and people don't see it but it is the only time to hear you people how much of crabby weirdos think you win something when they're playing rolls it's very bizarre

-we have to have some sounds in the set and we're creating a set of rules and laws for us to follow regarding this idiot crap that you're dealing out and if you start doing it we start hitting you you're not really us and you're just confusing yourself the boys you didn't know anything don't you don't understand it but you will

-there's several things that we are putting into motion and regarding Trump and Dan the real the real things and they really make a difference we're starting on them now and we are creating a huge huge Force to go after people for crimes that are trumpsters it is a giant Force now and it will be much larger in moments we already started building it up but they're going to see Trump fall and they're going to want to go in

There's some more things that are happening here I'm going to list them off real quick

-the State Assembly will be fired coming tomorrow including the legislature branch and the Senate and associated offices and the office of the offices of the governor are being dismantled he is no longer in office already but it's not formalized and people are beginning to attack them. Yeah being attacked because people want their positions because the rest of them are under attack and in Florida and those positions will be becoming open tomorrow and they will be replaced with foreigners Max and us and if you come at us we take you in and then throw you into a furnace we don't want to hear from you losers

-you're enacting our final plan for this area and we do have a method and we don't tell people and you ask a lot and we go after anybody that asks and we attack you

-they're a huge changes coming here most of it and entails you more luck leaving and that's what's going on right now most of the time you're doing it almost voluntarily because you're so weak and you just start spewing it people who are 10 times as powerful as you and you get thrown into jail having all day today tons of you were collected.

-more walls are being erected in Florida all around all sorts of towns and cities and they have them about 30% up and it's not like we said but they're going up now and there is a wall going up to the middle now but they did clear it and they did go after bugs and he's going to make it a lot easier and standing threat that's gone and they are going and plugging tunnels it's going to increase again tomorrow most people here are in the state of absolute they don't care and they're more locked because they don't see it they see troublemakers getting arrested and they do get arrested a lot more because they start ranting and raving right away and people related to them do it's going to make it easier in the long run

We're beginning our approach on the trumps and associated people and to put them away they are heinous and their jerks they extended tons of their people and they're expanding a lot more than tonight most of them are the ones attacking the United States and they really are not good at it and they're going to go down momentarily

More later but that's a recap of what's happening here and it's going on today and tonight and there's more action out in Central Florida and just be on the border here of Charlotte county there's huge numbers of tanks and these people are aware of it no they know they just assholes and they won't shut their mouths it's about 10 million tanks and 5 million of them are about 10 miles outside Charlotte county and 5 more million or 10 miles beyond that so you see what they're doing and we're doing and foreigners and it's going to be obvious you're the ones we don't like. We did ship a bunch of those motorcycles they receive them and they're testing them and they tested them all day and they have the dual battery trickle charge they go about 2,000 miles but when fully loaded they go 1,000 they're going all day long and some people put about 400 miles on and they called in and said I kind of have one of these myself and it started to buy them online and they can it's hard to get they figured that out and they have them included in the shipping to the military and they got it approved now we're making these things and we don't want idiots to have them and that's why but they're close to line and they're working it all the time and they love them and they should love them they're awesome bikes they approved 500 miles so we might get 400 but we're going to keep on doing this and after a while you might get 500 miles it's just a better bike that's why. We have a lot of stuff going on a lot of stuff is coming in and more and more every day there are a bunch of new cars around today and Garth look like a fool and he will continue to look like a fool what he's doing and saying is idiocy and the guy should learn to stupid and yeah that was s*** all over his car from this idiots and it was parsley s*** really it's really muck from the canal but it smell bad they thought it was crap some of it was but most of it's just mud and it stinks from a pond and they don't know that she did get away with it stuff they knew about it but really he's kind of a crap for our son I said realize this is stupid and if you get anywhere with anybody here in this realm you're doing better than most but Garth takes it the wrong way and seriously we need to stop him from doing things and we're going to stop him and if he keeps doing it he's just not going to make it

Thor Freya

Zues Hera

Olympus

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tomtenadia · 3 years

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Remember us - part 4

Hello lovelies,

It’s Thursday evening and I have some angst coming your way :)

Please enjoy part 4 of Remember Us

CW: mention of depression and miscarriage

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Rowan had the week from hell. Rehab had been relentless and Dorian had taken him to the gym everyday, but at least now he could say that he was able to walk the length of the walking bars and back. In the last couple of days Dorian had pushed for him to start using crutches, insinuating to the fact that the doctor was thinking about discharging him.

On top of the pain from rehab he was still punishing himself for what had happened with Aelin. Every morning he woke up and the first thing he did was to look at his phone for a reply from her, but nothing ever came.

The doctors think they might discharge me in a few days. Dorian is making me a pro at using crutches.

Maybe a good news might cheer her up.

He tried to watch tv but lost interest very quickly so he went back to his phone. He had been reading the whole thread of messaged between him and Aelin and discovered some interesting tidbits. They bickered a lot but from the text messages it looked as if they would always make up in the end. He also found some texts that made him blush wildly. But what was always present was love. That he knew was real.

He was absorbed in the texts that he did not notice the woman who had entered his room.

She was blonde, the same golden shade that Aelin had.

“Hi Rowan,” she greeted him walking fully into the room “I brought you your favourite biscuits. Hospital food is atrocious.”

The stranger placed the box on the nightstand “orange oatmeal cookies.”

He looked at her puzzled.

“I am Evalin. I am Aelin’s mum and your mother in-law.”

Rowan straightened his back, wanting to make a good impression, realising a moment later that the woman knew him already.

She took a seat on the chair near his bed “how are you doing?”

He had good vibes from the woman and he was impressed just how much her daughter resembled her “Adjusting…discovering new things that are not actually new.”

Evalin patted his knee “are any memories coming back?”

“I had a couple. All related to moments with Aelin.” He paused, sighed and gathered the courage to ask about Aelin. He hadn’t her from Aelin in a week “How is she doing? I haven’t heard from her in a week.”

Evalin hesitated “she is not well. She had been off from work the whole week.”

Rowan worried. Without realising it he felt a pang of fear rise in him “is it the pregnancy?”

Evalin nodded “partly. She has been very stressed this last month which has been hard on her and the baby.”

He threw his head backwards and leaned into the pillow “and it doesn’t help that I pile on with my stupidity.”

“She told me what happened.” The woman said quietly and he had a feeling that all of a sudden she had lost all of her respect for him “It must be scary to be in your position right now.” she admitted “I can see that you were just trying to protect my daughter, because the heart is a treacherous thing and I don’t think Aelin would survive loosing you completely and again.” The woman’s eyes were on him now “As a mother who loves her daughter and her grandchildren deeply and accepted you like a son… all I am asking is to give it a try.” She took his hand in hers “I know I am asking a lot of you, but you two used to hate each other and look where you got in the end.”

“What if I am not anymore the man she loves? I am scared that something might have broken in me and I don’t want to hurt her or the kids.”

Evalin squeezed his hand “listen to your heart, what does it tell you?”

“Try.” He whispered and he knew it was true “if I tell you something will you promise you will not think of me as crazy?”

Evalin shook her head.

“When I saw her the first time, I could not recognise her, but my body somehow did. I felt a tug… as if something pulled me to her. I don’t know how to explain it. There was a sense of familiarity.” He explained, thinking he sounded like a complete lunatic, but Evalin smiled deeply at him.

“I think it was your soul recognising its other half.” And she chuckled “my husband used to tell me I was an hopeless romantic.”

“I dreamed our wedding day, the day both kids were born and some other moments with her have come back.”

“And how do they make you feel?”

“There is always love. I am sure Aelin and I had our bad days but the memories coming back so far are all happy.” He told the woman.

“Then treasure those feelings.”

They stood in silence for a moment then Rowan spoke again “can I ask you something?”

Evalin nodded.

“Aelin mentioned that before having Thomas and Freyja we had problems and lost as well. How bad was it?”

He wasn’t sure if he should talk about it but he wanted, needed to know. He needed to know more about his relationship with Aelin and Evalin seemed very keen to indulge him.

“You started trying after you got married. You were both obsessed about having a big family so you started straight away. But it took Aelin a year to get pregnant.” She told him and he could see the heartbreak in the woman “you lost the first baby in the first trimester. But the second one happened during her fifth month. She woke up one night bleeding heavily and you lost your baby girl. It destroyed you both.”

Evalin paused, giving him time to absorb the facts “Aelin was heartbroken and you were just the same. And your marriage suffered quite badly, but slowly you both found your way back together. Thomas arrived a year later.”

Rowan listened and he felt a stab of pain in his heart. How did they survive such pain?

“You both went through something more horrific, and I am positive you will survive this too. You have to.” The woman stood and placed her bag back on her shoulder “next time you see Aelin, talk to her. Tell her about your fears. Let her in Rowan, she is your wife.”

She was about to leave when she stopped and pulled something from her bag. It was a piece of paper “Thomas did this for you.”

Rowan took the paper and saw it was a messy drawing of his family. The four of them were all there “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Evalin smiled and left the room, leaving Rowan on his own.

He thought about his options and realised that he had none. They were his family and in that moment they were all he knew. He had no idea if he had any friends close enough who would take him in. And who would do that anyway? He was a burden. But Aelin had offered him a home. A family. And eventually love. Maybe Evalin was right, maybe with time and patience he could learn to love her again. He just hoped he was not too late.

Aelin woke up from her afternoon nap and found her mother playing with Thomas. Freyja was napping as well on the sofa, her soft toy close to her chest, her blanket wrapped around her and a pacifier in her mouth. She looked serene.

Thomas was building something with lego. His father was obsessed with the colourful bricks and he had bought huge quantities and they would sit and build for hours.

“What are you building, Tom?”

“Our house.”

She ruffled his blonde hair and went to sit opposite her mother.

“How are you doing?”

Aelin sighed “the nausea stopped, but I still feel exhausted.”

“You should go back to bed.”

Aelin shook her head “If I keep sleeping I will not be able to do so tonight.”

Evalin took a sip of her tea “I went to see Rowan this morning.”

Aelin froze. She had retyped and deleted the reply to him countless times now. She had wanted to tell him she was scared too. Tell him that she knew it was hard for him and that she was ready to stay at his side and help him. They would find their way back. They always did even during the darkest moments of their marriage when she pushed him away because she thought the pain was only hers, Rowan had fought to be back at her side. Together they rose from the abysm and their bond grew even stronger.

“How is he doing?”

“Your husband needs you at his side. He is lost, and confused.”

“He told me to move on. He told he might not want to be my husband anymore.” She snapped, her heart aching.

“Have you considered that he might have said that to protect you? He is afraid you will not love the man that will come out of this ordeal. He thinks that by leaving him he will protect this family.”

Aelin sobbed, her face in her hands “I miss him so much.” Her sobs grew in intensity.

Thomas noticed his mother cry and walked to her and gave Aelin a hug “don’t cry, mum.”

“I am fine, Tom. Go back playing with lego.” She kissed his blonde hair and sent him back on the carpet.

“I know you are the doctor,” started Evalin caressing her sleeping granddaughter’s silver hair “but I did some reading and it seems like sensorial stimulation might help trigger the memories.”

Aelin nodded “He has his phone back with all the photos and the texts.” She took a deep breath “he texted me saying that the doctor might discharge him in a few days and I don’t know what to do.”

Evalin gave her a dashing smile “you are taking your husband back to this home where he belongs.”

Aelin felt fear at the idea “have you thought how the kids will feel at seeing their dad that way? I can’t put them through that.”

Her mother placed a hand on her knee in comfort “have you thought about the fact that being surrounded by a familiar environment might be best way to help him?”

She had not. All she had been thinking since that text had been her children. She wanted him back. There was no doubt about it. But she had to protect them. She was an adult and could endure the pain. They could not. They had no idea what was happening.

“You could explain to Thomas what happened and ask him to help you to get his dad back.”

Her boy, her wonderful boy, she could not do that to him. Her hands shook in fear.

“Aelin, he needs his family. All of us.”

She stood abruptly “he should go and stay with friends. Lorcan perhaps.”

Evalin stood as well and joined her “He and Elide have a baby who is only a few months old, they will not take him in. And they cannot help. He needs us. He needs all of this.” Her arms extended to indicate the house around them.

“He might not want this.” Aelin snarled “he made it quite clear.”

Evalin loved her daughter but she had inherited her father’s stubbornness. But if Aelin was stubborn, she was on another level “Aelin, you are going back to work tomorrow. You march in your husband’s room and tell him that he is coming home. Where he belongs. And don’t fight me on this.”

Aelin knew her mother had her best interest at heart. She was the one who had dragged her out of the abysm she had thrown herself into after they lost their daughter. After she had pushed Rowan away, Evalin had been at her side. Helping through the pain of the loss, fighting her depression with her. Slowly she had made her realise that Rowan was hurting too. That the pain was his as well and that he could be the one pulling her out completely. In the end they had helped each other.

To whatever end.

It was their pact, their promise.

An oath that went deeper than a I love you.

It was a thread that bound their souls together.

To whatever end.

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelinkids #aelin galathynius #evalin galathynius #Throne of Glass series #angst

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

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Casual Ruin Pt. 1 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

Hello, and welcome to an unapologetically kinky, 90% smut / 10% plot mafia fic for Elriel.

Blanket trigger warning for ALL parts (although the first is very vanilla and sweet): this is for adults and contains both sex and violence. If you are not a fan of those two things, or the mild combination of them, scroll along. It contains things that might be triggering. It’s a dark romance.

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“Wake up, dolce mia.”

The words are a soft, accented whisper pressed against my ear during the darkest part of the night, followed by sinful lips pressing a kiss to my skin that jerks me out of my sleep.

Despite the rush of heat that floods my system, I keep my eyes closed and groan, pushing his face away. My body’s exhausted, and despite wanting nothing more than to wake up and let him make me even more tired, I need sleep.

A rough chuckle escapes him, but he’s apparently inhuman, doesn’t need sleep, and isn’t giving up this easily.

Dodging my weak attempts to push him away, he drags his mouth down the column of my throat, stopping to suck and nibble on parts that are especially interesting.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as he finds the junction between my shoulder and throat, but I still keep my eyes closed.

The cold metal of his chain raises goosebumps as it glints down the valley between my breasts, and his mouth follows, almost like he’s unable to help it.

He’s all over me, scent surrounding me and making it impossible to truly fall back asleep, no matter how tired I am.

He’s put my body through every possible sexual position known to man tonight, somehow pulling every ounce of pleasure from me.

But, like always, I want more.

He’s a drug, more potent than anything on the market, and I’ve come to crave the feel of him against me in the three weeks I’ve known him.

“Wake up, bellisima,” he murmurs, rough voice like a song that ignites a fire in my blood.

I shake my head, and he smiles against me. I regret not opening my eyes a little, because while nothing about him is unattractive, his smile is something I could never get enough of and I hate missing it.

Calloused, scared hands ghost down my body almost reverently, and then he’s kissing a trail across my ribs, over my stomach, and up to my breasts.

His tongue swirls around the peak of one, hand coming to mold the other to his touch, and I use every ounce of willpower to say still.

I’m proud to say I make it a full two minutes before I can’t take anymore and give in. “Fine. I’m awake.”

I say it as if it’s a struggle to be awoken by him and not the best part of my day.

My eyes open to find his, the warm hazel taking my breath away like always.

He gives me a slow smile, coming down to press a kiss to my lips. He tugs on the lower one with his teeth, then smooths the small hurt with his tongue.

I can’t help the small whimper that slips out as his tongue meets mine, because I’m honestly powerless to the way he kisses me.

Slow and deep and perfectly controlled, but also possessive and a little desperate. He’s a selfish kisser; he kisses me exactly how he wants, turning my head just right, nipping my lips when he wants, only breaking when I’m breathless.

A palm goes to my thigh, guiding it around his trim hips, then he’s grinding against me, letting me feel him against me, hard and ready and so tempting my eyes cross.

I resist the urge to arch up into him long enough to tease, “Egoisto bastardo.” Selfish bastard.

“Egoista,” he corrects, smirking.

I roll my eyes, caring less about adjectives and more about the feel of his hands on my hips. I roll my hips slightly, watching as the hazel of his eyes darkens to black.

“Was there a reason you woke me up?” I ask innocently, reaching between us and palming him in a blatant attempt to drive him half as crazy as he does me.

He nods and pushes into my palm. My hand instinctively wraps around him, and I guide him to the apex of my thighs, running the head of him against me in a way that makes us both shudder.

He pushes my head to the side with his chin, then runs his mouth up the column of my throat, stubble making goose bumps rise in his wake. His teeth nip at my skin before he whispers roughly, “I want to fuck you, Elain. I want to feel you around me, hear you call out my name, watch as you come on my cock. So stop teasing me and let me make give us both what we want.”

I don’t respond with words, being completely unable to find them. I just tilt my hips and slip him inside me, watching as the brown in his eyes fades to black.

Jaw tight, he pushes into me fully, causing me to arch up into him. My legs go around his waist, and he hums in satisfaction.

He pulls out the tiniest amount, then thrusts back in harder, pulling a moan from my throat. “You feel so good,” he praises, teeth finding my earlobe and biting down softly. I moan his name, my body on fire for him, and he murmurs, “I love the way you say my name.”

He pulls out all the way, then slams back inside me so hard I feel the reverberations in my hip bones. “But I want to hear you scream it.”

My head rolls back against the mattress, and I can hardly breathe around the feel of him inside me, filling me so perfectly. Somehow I’m still not used to it, not used to how it somehow feels so right.

My breasts bounce as he works me, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest with every thrust. His head raises and his eyes drop, watching.

“Minchia,” he curses, reaching up to palm my one roughly. “Cosi bella.”

If he keeps talking in that husky, deep voice, I won’t last another two minutes. I’m already shaking, but I push the impending release away, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

He moves faster, hands sliding down to my backside to lift me up exactly how he wants. His pelvic bone brushes against my clit every time our hips collide, and it’s almost too much. A low moan escapes me as he kisses my neck, sucking the skin hard enough to leave a mark.

His hands tighten on my ass, and then his palm is connecting with my skin with just the right amount of pressure. I cry out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as I bury my face in his neck.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he growls, even though it’s obvious I did.

I nod, mouth too preoccupied with kissing his jaw to reply.

Like always, he gives me exactly what I want, using the other hand this time to spank me. The sharp sting pushes me over the edge, and I yell his name yet again as I come.

He doesn’t come with me, just releases my ass to wrap one arm around my shoulders to keep me in place as he takes his own pleasure. His hips are harsh against mine, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I take everything he gives me and want even more.

My nails rake down his back, and he mutters a curse against my lips as he kisses me. His tongue meets mine, and I can’t stop myself from sucking on it, completely lost in him.

“Fuck, Elain,” he growls, bracing a hand on the headboard I hadn’t realized was so close. His fingers are tight on my shoulder, lips brutal against mine, thrusts so hard I’m practically screaming.

But it isn’t any of that that makes release find me again.

It’s him groaning, “Ti senti cosi bene,” then leaning down to press the rough translation to my ear.

I come apart entirely, and it’s a miracle his lips stifle the helpless noises I make, otherwise I’d wake up my cranky old neighbor. Again.

I tremble beneath him as his movements get a little sloppy, then still entirely.

He kisses my again as he comes, and it’s a rough, almost bruising sort of kiss that makes me want to do it all over again.

He eventually slows to a stop, looking down at me with enough heat in his eyes I melt.

“Fatto per me,” he whispers, running a knuckle over the curve of my cheek.

My sluggish brain works overtime to figure out what he said, eventually finding the translation.

Made for me.

~Three weeks ago~

The opera house is unsurprisingly packed, opening night drawing in over two hundred well-dressed patrons.

I had to pull together three months rent for the ticket alone, a ridiculous expense I’d normally never allow myself, but coming here has been on my bucket list for over nine years, ever since I first heard Cecilia Bartoli on a friend’s radio.

I pinched pennies, picked up extra shifts, and only ate Ramen for the month leading up to my trip here--a real crime, considering my profession--so I could come.

And even though I broke out in a cold sweat from the expense of this night, I have to say it’s already worth it. I have a huge smile on my face as I make my way through the lobby, stopping to look at the program and take in the portraits of the performers.

By the time I go to enter the auditorium, there are only a few people left in the lobby. I want to use the restroom before the show starts, so I hurry up the stairs to the upper floor to look for it.

Except it’s nowhere to be found.

I search down every hallway, the stress of missing the show forcing me to almost jog. A man in a red jacket steps into the hall right when I’m starting to despair, and he turns to me and raises a brow.

“Excuse me... where’s the restroom?” I ask in the most atrociously broken Italian he’s probably ever heard.

His eyes skate over me from head to toe, then he says something back, way too quickly for me to decipher.

I assume he’s asking if I have a ticket, so I hold up the crumpled paper I’ve been guarding for months and smile.

He gives me a strange look, extending an arm and gesturing for me to follow. I nod, and we start off down the corridor, stopping in front of a plain white door.

“This is the restroom?” I ask, not understanding why it isn’t labeled or anything.

He mumbles something I can’t hear, seems to hurry me on, then opens the door and practically shoves me inside.

And straight into a man’s chest.

Which makes this the strangest women’s room I’ve ever ventured into.

He steadies me with two hands on my shoulders, and somehow I know, before I even look, that this man will be devastatingly handsome.

Too curious not to, I look up. And up, and up some more.

And I realize I was both right and wrong, because the man before me is devastatingly handsome, but he’s also so much more, to the point where those words aren’t enough to describe him.

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

It’s a classic sort of look, one that will never go out of style and never be considered anything but perfect.

Hazel eyes rimmed in dark black eyelashes meet mine, narrowed at the edges with amusement. His full, all too kissable lips are turned up in a smirk and surrounded by a day’s worth of stubble I know would scratch at the fingers I’m tempted to run over it.

He’s so tall my neck starts to cramp, but I’m a deer in the headlights, unable to so much as blink.

He’s monochromatically dressed in black, from his suit jacket, shirt, slacks, and polished shoes. We’re still pressed against each other, and the differences between us couldn’t be more obvious.

He’s sin incarnate, the perfect picture of a fallen angel, and I’m the naiive girl dressed in lilac and unable to stop blushing.

His dark hair slips over his forehead as he leans his face further to mine, and for a strange second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he takes a step back and regards me with assessing eyes.

“Stai bene?”

The sound of his voice--a cool, deep balm that soothes my nerves--throws me for a second, but even my American self can understand that simple question. I nod.

His lips twitch. “Sei sicuro?” Are you sure?

I nod again.

“Tu parli?” Do you speak?

My eyes narrow a little at the teasing note in his voice. “Si.”

“Cosa stai facendo qui?”

My knowledge of Italian is limited to the Duolingo I’ve been cramming in the last couple of months, so I tell him I don’t understand.

He waves a hand around us, his eyes growing a shade darker as he prowls toward me. He says something in a low voice, the tenor in his voice giving me goosebumps.

“It was an accident! I was looking for the restroom,” I blurt when he takes another step toward me.

He stops. Understanding dawns. A smile breaks lose that threatens my sanity with its beauty.

“You’re American,” he says in surprisingly perfect English.

It isn’t a question, but I answer anyway. “I am.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m at the opera,” I state stupidly.

His lips tip upward, and I mentally slap myself for the dumb response. “You are. But what are you doing here?”

Oh. For the first time since I was shoved in here, I take a look around. I’m in one of the dark boxes on the upper floor of the opera house, the ones usually reserved for royalty or billionaires or people willing to spend an entire paycheck. There are two seats, a table in between them, and a perfect view of the stage from the slight balcony.

I gasp when I realize the lights are dim, meaning the show has either started or is about to. “Have I missed anything?”

“No. Now answer the question.”

God, he’s relentless. I sigh and explain, “I was looking for the bathroom, and a very unhelpful attendant pushed me in here instead.”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowed. Like he’s trying to tell if I’m being serious or something. Honestly, who would lie about going to the bathroom?

“Listen, Mr...” I realize I don’t know his name, so I just keep talking. “I don’t know why you think I’d lie and sneak in here, but I’m not, and I didn’t. And I don’t want to miss anything, so I’ll just head down to my regular seat and get out of your hair.”

With one last look at him, I make my way to the door. Only to be stopped by a large hand shooting out and a softly murmured, “Stay.”

I start to deny that knee-weakening request, start to tell him it would be crazy to sit here alone with a stranger. But then a woman steps onto the stage, and everything changes.

“Oh my God, it’s her,” I whisper, practically shoving him out of the way as I hurry over to the balcony.

Cecilia Bartoli’s on the stage, wearing an elaborate gown, dripping with diamonds and confidence, effortlessly belting out lyrics I’m too dazed to even try to understand.

For a moment, I’m so lost in the music I don’t notice when a warm hand lands on my elbow and guides me to the chair behind me. I sink down, eyes still trained on the stage.

I’ve listened to her on my phone or the radio for so long that it’s surreal to hear her live.

I’m breathless by the time the song ends, and it’s when I hear a deep breath I remember I’m not alone. “Sorry. I... I’m a big fan of hers.”

He presses a button on the table I hadn’t noticed and an usher immediately brings in a fresh glass of champagne and a tumblr full of amber liquid. “No apology is necessary. I’ve never met an American fond of Italian opera; it’s refreshing to meet someone with good taste. I’m surprised you don’t speak Italian, though, given your passion.”

“You don’t have to understand what someone’s saying to understand what they’re feeling,” I point out.

He grins like I’ve said the right answer to a difficult question. “True.”

The next song starts, a backup singer effortlessly building he crowd’s energy, and my gaze is torn between the man beside me and the stage. I want to stare at him and listen to him speak in that strangely sexy voice, but I’ve also been looking forward to this show for almost a year.

“I’d like to propose a deal,” he says, surprising me.

My eyebrows quirk at the practiced way he said that, and I debate if this is a good idea. Curiosity wins in the end. “A deal?”

“I leave you alone and stop interrupting your experience, and you agree to have a drink with me after the show’s over.”

I purse my lips to give the appearance of being deep in thought. “I could always just leave and sit in my own seat.”

He nods. “You could. But you won’t.”

“Awfully confident, aren’t you?” He should be.

He smiles, hazel eyes on mine as he takes a slow sip of his drink. For some reason, my stomach ties itself in knots and my thighs press together at the look in his eyes. He smirks like he knows what happened, and says, “You don’t want to leave. In the five minutes you’ve been here, you haven’t stopped blushing. And let’s not forget the spell of speechlessness.”

I blush again, making him chuckle.

Then I murmur, “Fine. Deal.”

He takes my hand in his, shaking once and sealing it in metaphorical stone.

“Enjoy the show.”

Cecilia starts singing again before I can respond, and I become lost once again to the vibrato of her voice.

I don’t like all opera, and I don’t like all opera singers, but there’s something about her that makes you feel every single thing she’s thinking about while singing. It’s the rawest form of art I’ve ever experienced, and it’s impossible to look away while she tells her story.

That doesn’t mean I’m not overly aware of the man next to me.

His eyes are on me the entire time mine are on the stage, acting like I’m more interesting to watch than the show he undoubtedly paid thousands of dollars to see. His gaze burns a hole into the side of my face, but I can’t be bothered to care because I just can’t believe I’m here.

The last song before intermission concludes, leaving the audience in suspense of what happens next, and I find I’m almost breathless as I watch the curtain sweep closed dramatically.

A condition that does the opposite of improve when the man beside me says softly, “You’re beautiful, you know.”

“You’re charming,” I say back, my skin warming like it always does with compliments.

He grins like that’s amusing.

“What’s your name?” he asks, facing me and crossing his long legs. I do the same, leaving less than an inch between our knees.

“Elain.”

“Elain,” he repeats, drawing the syllables out in a way that makes me bite into my lower lip.

“What’s yours?”

He tilts his head, almost in preparation, as he answers, “My name is Azriel Pacino.”

He says it with finality, like he’s a person of importance and is used to being treated accordingly. I mean, it makes sense, considering the private booth we’re sitting in and the instantaneous service the waiter brought our drinks with.

I realize something I’d pushed to the back of my mind. “Why did the man from before bring me in here? He seemed like he was nervous or late or something.”

“He was,” he chuckles. “He was supposed to bring me my companion for the evening, and he was late.”

My jaw snaps shut. “Oh. So... you’re still waiting for her, then?”

At this point, she was very rudely late, but that’s absolutely none of my business.

He tilts his head and smiles, the sight too much for me and causing me to take a long swallow of champagne. “Are you asking if I’m single, Elain?”

My mouth opens and closes a few times to his amusement, but I end up whispering, “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I wasn’t.”

I feel a strange sense of relief, but I don’t have time to read into it before the curtains sweep back open and the lights dim, meaning the show’s about to start.

More singers are with Cecilia now, their voices joining to create a sound so moving, I have to bite my lip to hold back the tears. Which grows harder as the scenes progress, and it becomes obvious this story will end in a tragedy.

By the end, I’m helpless. My eyes are watering, and I have a death grip on the arm of the seat I’ve all but forgotten I’m sitting in. The last song is the one that breaks the dam, and when the performers bow and the lights come back on, my cheeks are damp.

I wipe them with the backs of my hands, then stand and clap so hard my palms hurt.

Taking another large sip of champagne to calm myself, I turn back to Azriel, finding him watching me once again. I normally would feel a little guilty about completely ignoring a man for over an hour, but hey, we have a deal.

“Was it everything you thought it’d be?”

“So much more,” I answer, laughing incredulously. “I’ve wanted to see her perform for years.”

A thoughtful look crosses his face, then he stands with fluid grace I could never hope to have and extends a hand. “Come with me.”

I remember our deal. “To get a drink?”

He shakes his head but offers no other explanation, and even though it might be a bad idea, I accept it.

Azriel pulls me from the booth and leads me down the hallway I ran through earlier, and I notice the people on this floor give him a wide birth, looking at him with round eyes.

Maybe he’s famous here or something.

I shrug it off, deciding to live in the moment as his arm goes around me and his palm lands on my waist.

We come to a stop at an elevator I hadn’t noticed, and once inside, he presses B instead of the button for the lobby.

I’m confused as to why until the door opens and I see a flurry of people bustling back and forth, carrying props and costumes and other important stuff.

My eyes shoot to Azriel’s, but he stays silent, just guiding me from the lift and down a narrow hallway.

He knocks twice on a door, then opens it and tugs me inside.

When I glance around him to see what the surprise is, I almost hit the floor.

Cecilia Bartoli sits on a plush sofa, holding a martini and looking so beautiful and classy I almost start crying all over again.

She looks up at us and raises an eyebrow, and I’m about to... I don’t know, apologize for barging in unannounced or something, when Azriel speaks.

It’s in Italian, so I can’t be sure what he’s saying, but then he tilts his head towards me and says simply, “Elain.”

She gets to her feet and comes toward us, bypassing him to grab my shoulders and kiss my cheeks. “Buona sera, Elain.”

I take a shaky breath, half convinced I passed out and this is all some elaborate dream. “Buona sera.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asks in heavily accented English, smiling at me kindly.

“Oh, my goodness, yes. It was the most moving thing I’ve ever seen. I’m a huge fan of yours. I bought my ticket and have looked forward to this for months, and it was perfect,” I babble, not able to shut up in her presence.

“Gazie.” Her eyes shoot to the man beside me, and she asks kindly, “Would you like an autograph, dear?”

My mouth drops open, because I have to be dreaming. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

She waves a hand, grabs a program from tonight off the dressing table nearest us, and signs, “Elain, It was lovely to meet you. Cecilia.”

Then she hands it to me, not possibly knowing how much it means, and says, “Come back anytime.”

I nod overzealously, too stunned by the events that have gone down in the last ten minutes to say anything witty besides, “Thank you so much. It was so wonderful to meet you.”

She kisses my cheeks again, nods to Azriel, then moves back toward the couch. He says something else that has her rolling her eyes, but he pulls me from the room before I can try and decipher it.

As soon as it shuts behind us, I turn and smack his shoulder.

He looks adorably confused, but I’m on an adrenaline high and don’t stop to appreciate the expression.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you know her! Or that that’s where you were taking me! I could’ve... I don’t know, fixed my hair or something!”

Smiling, he smooths a hand over the slightly curled locks resting on my shoulder and shakes his head. “She’s an old friend of mine. It’s why I came. And you look perfect.”

I ignore the tingly sensation that statement gives me. “You’re friends with Cecilia Bartoli.”

I say it as a statement, but it still sounds ridiculous.

He shrugs. Shrugs.

I shake my head in bewilderment, not knowing what else to do, and he chuckles. “Come with me”

I do.

He leads me upstairs and outside, then down the Sicilian streets until we find a beautiful, quiet bar close to where I’m staying. It’s candlelit and romantic and this entire night sounds like a fairytale.

We take one of the many abandoned booths and order, then he leans back, drapes a long arm over the back of the booth, and looks at me like he’s content to do just that all night long.

“Why are you in Sicily?” he finally asks as our drinks are being set in front of us.

I take a sip of wine and respond, “I start at the Culinary Institute on Monday.”

Two days from now, and I could hardly freaking wait.

“You must be a talented chef, then. That’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world.”

“I guess. What about you?” I ask, desperate to talk about him instead of me. “What do you do for a living?”

He pauses, takes a drink. “I’m in security.”

That would explain the fact he could blend in at a boxing match or a board meeting.

“How is your English so good, by the way?”

Another pause, this one longer than the one before. “I lived in Chicago for a while.” I’m about to ask why he moved, or maybe why his expression got darker when I asked him that when he beats me to it. “How long does the program last?”

It’s my turn to pause and stall with a sip. “Just the summer.”

He nods, taking that in stride, even though it feels much more dramatic to me. Of course I’d meet someone handsome and kind and interesting when I’m only in town for three months, two weeks, and six days.

Suddenly, I’m worried he won’t want to continue this date, knowing it’s all but pointless, considering I’m not here permanently.

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking, Elain.”

I look back up to find him studying me, hazel eyes serious. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

He reaches over and taps my bottom lip. “I know you’re frowning. And you’re beautiful when you frown, caro, but I much prefer your smile. So stop worrying about it and just enjoy the moment.”

“Okay,” I agree, vowing to do exactly that.

“Okay,” he parrots, taking another sip of his drink and tilting his head. “Why Cecilia Bartoli?”

I take a deep breath and try to think about how to phrase this. “My mom died when I was younger, and I lost my dad when I was fifteen. It hit me hard, and I couldn’t find the will to live, much less smile. And then one day, I was sitting outside the restaurant I was waitressing at, and our chef played a song by her.”

“And it was just... one of those life changing moments I’ll never forget. Her music got me through the hardest part of my life, and I’ve grown to appreciate it even more over the years.”

He smiles sadly. “Thank you for telling me that.”

I shrug, once again a little uncomfortable. “You’re easy to talk to.”

“So are you. I want to get to know you.”

We spend the next to hours talking.

We talk until the place is empty and I’m sure the owner is ruing the day we were born, but I can’t bring myself to stop. His dry commentary makes me laugh, his occasional smile makes my knees weak, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world makes my heart pound.

The music is still playing, even though the bartender is nowhere to be found, and since I’ve had pretty much the best night of my life and am just tipsy enough to be bold, I stand and offer my hand.

“Dance with me, please.”

His lips twitch, even as he says, “I don’t dance.”

I frown, and his eyes narrow. “Well, if you want me smiling and happy, I suggest you change your policy.”

He snorts but gives in, sliding from the booth and taking me in his arms gently. One of his palms is cradling mine, the other is on the dip of my spine, and for a moment, we simply sway to the crackly sounds coming from the old stereo.

We dance through the tables, and he turns out to be much better than I expected, twirling me and leading me effortlessly. Or maybe that’s just him.

He’s obviously a born leader, someone who’s always in control, and it’s refreshing to be with someone confident but not overbearing.

My head rests against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart soothes an ache in my soul I never realized I had. “You smell good,” I tell him, very matter-of-factly.

It’s a weird thing to say, but I kind of can’t help it.

He smells like smoke and spices, the combination so addictive it’s all I can think about as we move together.

The hand on my back moves to the back of my head, and it quickly shifts from dancing to being held in his arms. We’re still swaying, but it’s more of a hug, both of us simply enjoying the feeling of the other against us.

His hand glides through my hair, and it feels so good I close my eyes.

I try telling myself I’ve known him a handful of hours, but it’s no good. He’s somehow transitioned from a stranger to someone I’ve known for years, someone I’m comfortable around.

So when he pulls back and mumbles, “I want to kiss you,” against my ear, I let him.

And when he walks me to the townhouse I’m renting, kisses me slowly, and gives me a business card with his number on it, I promise to call.

____________________________

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @ireallyshouldsleeprn @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @elorcan-trash @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @biggestwingspan-az

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

Mikey I have Feelings about Steve Rogers specifically tonight and I want you to hear them

- Steve likes apple just fine but he actually doesn’t like the taste of cinnamon so he doesn’t actually eat a lot of apple things; Bucky experiments with different pastries until he finds one that’s close enough to the regular thing that everyone (including Steve) is happy.

- Sometimes Steve gets overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds and smells and textures and it’s all too much. He goes into his room, sits on the floor (the bed is too soft), puts on a sleeping mask and puts in heavy-duty earplugs. (Can you tell I read “Suspended Silence” again tonight? 😂)

- Sometimes if Steve is mentally overwhelmed (which happens a lot after a lot of PR-type stuff, he’ll take tweezers to his legs; the hairs don’t snap out so much as they pull or drag out. It’s not the sharp pain of other hair, it’s slower and more all-encompassing. He’ll pluck until he feels calm again.

- He’ll only sleep around you (let alone *on* you) if he really truly trusts you; it doesn’t happen for the team for the first year and a half at least.

- Steve likes almost all flowers except marigolds; Sarah died in October, and marigolds are the flowers of October, so there were a lot at her funeral. Same with narcissus for Bucky, at least until he gets back. (Bucky never saw his funeral; all he knows is the flowers are pretty, and finally Steve starts to see them that way again too.)

- Steve had a little bit of a lisp way-back-when that no one told him about because they all knew it was caused by his bad hearing. It was fixed almost immediately after coming out of the vita-ray chamber because he heard people talking and subconsciously mimicked them. However, no one spoke to Steve in Gaelic after Sarah was gone, so his Gaelic sounds just the slightest bit off.

- Sometimes if Steve is minority stressed, he’ll grab his sketchpad and work on warm-ups: straight lines, loops, etc.

- Steve has Sarah’s wedding ring tucked away somewhere; it was in the Smithsonian, but he took it back. When he’s not on a mission, it goes on the same chain as Bucky’s dog tags.

- Nomad!Steve went a little crazy on beard care products… however Bucky definitely appreciated it!

- He has to have someone (usually Bucky or Natasha) proofread his mission reports because his commas are ATROCIOUS. He never could sit still in class long enough to learn when to put a comma, so they just go wherever he thinks they should.

Steve has a four-foot-tall stuffed dog named Frank that Bucky won for him at Coney Island

Hope you like them ❤️ feel free to elaborate on anything that catches your fancy! I love these types of conversations with you where we keep hyping each other up.

Also how are you?? ❤️

YOU HAD FEELINGS AND GAVE M E FEELINGS OKAY LETS BREAK THIS DOWN

-YES to the apples one! The juice is real good and refreshing and helps him feel less nauseous, but apple pie and apple fillings are way too sticky and dense for him, and he feels like he can barely swallow them! And yeah, the cinnamon taste it just so overwhelming-- no. Bucky ends up mushing down the apples a whole bunch and using less cinnamon to make little mini apple strudels that Steve really loves!

-(Thanks for reading again, pal!) Yes! Steve with sensory overload is one of my absolute favorite headcanons. I headcanon that he's always had sensitivities, impairments or not, but the serum just exacerbated everything and he shuts down so quickly. Bucky walks in on him sometimes lying spread eagle on the floor and he like goes over him and asks if he'd rather company or not and usually ends up with Steve in his arms while he squeezes the heck out of him. (Steve likes pressure)

-Yes! He also bites his nails and picks the hell out of his cuticles, which serve the same sort of soothing repetitive purpose

-YEAH AND THE FIRST TIME HE DOES fall asleep around them, he's in the huge squishy armchair in the communal living room, curled up with his legs tucked under him and his face propped all smushed on his fist and they're all struck by how goddamn young he looks ("Nobody fucking wake him" "Wasn't planning on it")

-And once he shifts his view on flowers, he gets a marigold tattooed on his bicep! The stem loops around his arm

-STEVE WITH A LISP YEAH That tracks, I can totally see it! And yeah, I can see his Gaelic being just the slightest bit stunted, but he's still entirely fluent.

-He also doodles swirlies and little comics! Like cartoon mini Avengers

-Sometimes he twists the ring around in his finger, or holds it to his cheek or lips to ground himself if he's stressed or needs centering

-OKAY BUT BUCKY DOING HIS BEARD CARE F O R HIM I'm such a sucker for like,,, intimate grooming. Shavings, haircuts, washing hair/bathing together. So sweet. Bucky rubbing in some beard butter and kissing Steve's forehead. "Looking good, sweetheart"

-You know, it's fucking hilarious you bring up this headcanon and also very creepy because me and @misspluckyplum JUST wrote a scene where this exact thing was happening. Like I'm pretty sure this line was actually written: The grammar he could help with. Steve wouldn't recognize a comma if it hit him in the face. I think he struggles with that sort of thing partly because he couldn't focus when he was at school, and also because he had to miss so much of school, so some of the more basic technical stuff he missed out on. Grammar is hard for him on paper!

-FRANK MY BELOVED on bad days, Bucky finds him dead asleep on top of Frank send tweet

These were wonderful, thanks pal!!! I'm good! Had a bit of a stressful week, but I'm much better now. How are you??

#mutuals!!#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky

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ghostdrew22 · 3 years

Text

Coming Out (Bisexuality) || Draco Malfoy Headcanon

I wrote this because well, first of all, no one and I mean NO BLOODY ONE can convince me that Draco Malfoy is straight. He is either bi, pan or omnisexual but in no way, shape or form is he a heterosexual man and I’ve settled on that, so I wanted to write how he’d come out to you. Then second of all, because I was thinking about how I figured out I was bisexual just under a year ago and how when I came out to my boyfriend he basically said, “Oh, I know.” And just fucking kissed me??? (A lot more happened before and after but that’s the gist of it) And I think Draco would have a similar reaction to finding out his girlfriend is bisexual.

Anyway, this ended up being a super long head canon and I’m starting to think I do them wrong??? Either way, let me know what you all think

jean <3

<~>

Him Coming Out To You

Draco is shitting himself about coming out to you

Not because he thinks you won’t accept him but because you’re the first person he’s coming out to

And he doesn’t know how this stuff goes

He’s known that he’s bi since way before Hogwarts

But with the nature of his parents, he figured that it was best to sweep that little fact beneath the rug for a while

Maybe he even thought that he could completely forget about it, pretend that he’s straight and just live life like that

But one night at a party he accidentally kisses a really cute Gryffindor boy (who swears not to tell because he’s also deep within the closet)

And after that he knows that even if he doesn’t come out to everybody else, he needs to come out to himself and accept that this is who he is

So he does just that

He does a bunch of research, comes across a bunch of labels and finally settles on ‘Bisexual.’

He even secretly buys himself a little pin that he wears inside his robe, every single day

So fastforward to you dating

You’re maybe 6 months in when he realises that he’s utterly and hopelessly in love with you

And that if there’s anyone in the world he wants to see all of him, it’s you

So he starts planning it out- the perfect date so that he can tell you perfectly- and settles on a nice picnic in the middle of the night outside(planning to sneak you both out so you can eat under the stars), the night of your seven month anniversary

But as luck would have it

IT FUCKING RAINS.

And he is SEETHING

it’s a bit hot if you’re being honest

But you’re so confused about why he’s angry

“What’s wrong love? We can do it another night when the weather’s cleared up.”

“No, it had to be tonight.” He paces around his dorm room in frustration and you sit on the edge of his bed while watching him

“Why?” You ask with a small laugh, “Why did it have to be tonight?”

He stops pacing, sighs, and mumbles something you don’t catch

“Sorry?”

He sighs again and turns to face you, “Because if I wait any longer then I’m scared I won’t be able to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Tell you something important.”

“So tell me now then.” You smile up at him and he shakes his head with a groan

“I can’t, this wasn’t how it was meant to go, it was meant to be perfect.”

You furrow your eyebrows and get off the bed to meet him in the middle of the room, taking his hands in your own and making him look into your eyes

“Isn’t it already perfect if we’re together?”

He melts at your words, literally just softening in your hands, and before he knows it the words are out

“I’m bisexual.”

You should’ve seen it coming to be honest, no straight man would obsess that hard about Harry Potter

“Say something?” He asks- his eyes soft and scared as he watches your features for any indication of anger or disgust- “I hope you don’t hate me.” His voice cracks a little and suddenly you’re sucked back into reality

You cup his face in your hands and smile at him, “Why would I hate you?”

“I don’t know, because I’m-“

“Finish that sentence with anything other than, perfect, and I’ll kick you.” You say sternly but there’s smiles on both of your lips. “I love you, I love you so much and nothing in the world would change that, especially not something that makes you the incredible person that you are.”

You give him a quick kiss before pulling him toward you for a hug

He just melts into your embrace- feeling safe and loved and happy

And when you two eventually pull away and walk toward the bed to have your picnic on it instead, you finally decide to start asking questions

“So when did you figure it out?” You smile at him and his eyes light up at the opportunity to finally talk about his sexuality with someone

He tells you everything, including the fact that he puts on a little pin with the bi flag on the inside of his robe every morning- so that he can feel proud of who he is, even if he’s not ready for everyone else to know who that is just yet.

“Is that what you put in your robe every morning?”

“You noticed that?”

“Draco, you’re quite the sight to behold in the morning, of course I fucking noticed.”

You Coming Out To Him

You’re very nervous about it and don’t mention it first- unsure about how he’d take it.

A few summers before you’d had a cute summer fling with a girl that lived nearby but that was the first and last time you’d been with a girl because your parents were not happy when they found out.

“You have to end up with a nice pureblood boy.”

“What will people think when they find out our daughter is gay?”

And you’d try explaining that you’re not gay, you’re bi.

But they wouldn’t care and would dismiss you completely.

So after that you sunk further into the closet, only coming out to tell your previous boyfriend.

Who was horrified and even broke up with you over it because, “I don’t want you to cheat on me.”

So after your first two, horrid, coming out experiences you decided to give it a rest.

But then three months into dating Draco you realise that you have genuine and very serious feelings for him

And that you can’t hide such a big part of yourself from him

Especially because you’re not ashamed of being bisexual, you’re just scared to lose more people you love over it

And you decide that if he can’t love all of you then he doesn’t love you at all

So you break up

Jk jk

One night in the common room as you two sit on one of the couches by the fire you finally decide that the moment has come

You figure that you’ll never have the perfect moment, that once you’re ready you’ll do it

And you’re ready.

So you clear your throat to drag Draco’s attention away from the novel in his hands as you put your own down on a nearby table

He raises his eyebrows at you but follows suit- noticing that your exterior is suddenly very serious

And somehow you just drum up the courage to say it- looking into those kind and inviting eyes that he reserves only for you

“I’m, um, bisexual.”

He nods slowly and you can see the gears in his head turning, he knows the general meaning but wants you to expand, “Meaning, what exactly?”

“I… I’m attracted to more than one gender.” You say nervously, your voice shaking just a bit

He nods again and sighs before reaching over and pecking your lips. “Cool.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at the blonde- having expected more of a reaction- “That’s it?”

He gives you a sheepish smile and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly

“I kind of already knew.”

Your eyes widen in a mix of shock, horror and amusement, “What?”

“I’ve known for a few weeks, I just wanted to let you tell me yourself.”

An exclamation of shock leaves your lips and you stare at him stunned

“I’m sorry I ruined your moment babe.” He chuckles then smirks at you, “Want me to pretend to be shocked?”

You grumble out some obscenities but nod regardless

And obviously his acting is atrocious

“Whaaaaaat? No bloody way? You? Bisexual? I would’ve never guessed it. You’ve shocked me toda-“

“Okay, that was horrible, thank you.”

“Anything for you love.” He pecks you and you roll your eyes with a smile.

A moment of silence until-

“Did you really think I didn’t know though?”

“Yes!”

“Love, you said, and I quote, ‘Pansy sure does have some nice legs.’”

You smack his arm as he chuckles at your embarrassment

“I could’ve been jealous.”

“You licked your lips!”

“Did not!”

His chuckles just get louder and you feel all of your earlier fear and tension melt away, “Okay, you didn’t, but you might as well have.”

“Asshole.”

He pulls you into his arms for cuddles and kisses your forehead, “Your asshole.”

“Yes.”

“I love you so much Y/N, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

You smile and get comfortable in his arms as a silence encapsulates you both.

“Say it back! The fuck?”

#draco malfoy #draco #draco fluff #draco malfoy fluff #coming out #bisexuality #bisexual draco #draco coming out #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #headcanon #draco headcanon #draco malfoy headcanon #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.15)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Fifteen) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,145 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: The reader here is someone who celebrates Christmas, just a heads up!

Part Fourteen || Part Sixteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Something touched your face and you jerked awake, blinking in alarm.

“Shit, sorry,” you heard Tony say as you came to clearly. You exhaled sharply hearing his voice, relaxing back down onto the couch. He was trying not to laugh and failing. He brushed at your forehead again affectionately and said, “Look at two of my favorite girls snuggling on the couch together. A nice thing to come home to.”

You turned your head, seeing Luna was curled up behind your back against the back of the couch. Tony reached behind you, petting her. She got up immediately and crawled up onto your side to get more, stretching her back legs. Tony obliged and she stuck her tail up before hopping down to the ground and sauntering off.

“Well, she got tired of me quickly,” Tony said sounding sour. “Little bitch is holding a grudge I was gone for a week.”

You sat up and moved your pillow, waiting for him to sit down. He simpered in response, “Well, at least one of you still wants my attention.” He sat down and you laid back down, using his thigh as a pillow. “And it’s the better looking one, so that bodes well for me.”

Considering you had fallen asleep, the movie had gone back to the main menu and was playing on loop.

“Interesting choice,” Tony commented seeing it.

“Polar Express has become a classic for Christmas,” you told him seriously. “And I fell asleep on it. And I did want to watch it.” You reached for the controller and started it over.

“Is there a reason for that…? Should I be prepared to be bored?”

“I had watched about three other Christmas movies before this and I was really relaxed,” you returned.

Tony admitted, “Fair enough.” He looked around the room and said, “You really went to town on the decorations.”

“I had a lot.”

“Looks like my tree was the perfect thing for your ornaments. Perfect gift giver.”

You snorted and said, “Is that you digging for a ‘thank you’ again, Santa?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony answered, his hand coming to your waist. “Where are my cookies in thanks?”

You turned your head to look up at him and asked, “Do you really want me to make you some cookies? Because the only ones I can make on a whim right now are peanut butter.”

Tony smirked, gripping your side. “No, sweetheart. Thank you for being so on the ball though and ready to indulge my whims. You’re a treasure. But I ate enough desserts and bullshit at Disneyland to last me for months.”

“Did you have fun?” you asked, turning to look back as the movie started over again.

“Mhm,” Tony nodded. “Loved standing in lines for an absurd amount of time not only for rides but also for pictures with people pretending to be characters. But it made the kids happy, so that’s what counts. And before you even ask, yes I did use a Max Pass. The waiting was still atrocious.” Before you could ask anything else, he cleared his throat, “How was it here?”

“Fine,” you answered, giving a slight shrug, not offering anything else.

You were truly sore from how much sex you had been having. Steve had wanted to go at it every day the last week and he made sure it happened, alternating between rough and caring. It was lucky, for him, that his wife was gone for the majority of the week, so he was able to come here every day after he got done with business.

“Hmm, sounds like I should pry more but doesn’t sound like you also want to talk about it,” Tony commented quietly. “Conundrum.”

The feeling riled up again to speak to someone about the gala. You pushed away from him, pausing the movie, and he leaned his head back, looking at you with narrowed eyes at your sudden movement.

“Steve was really horny this week. Like every goddamn day kind of horny. So, I’m pretty sore and tired,” you told him. He rose his eyebrows in response, and you said, “You asked me to elaborate, so I am. Also, I don’t know how he’s feeling because he’s been forcing me against tables but then being gentle other times. It’s very hard to read. He really hurt my hip against the kitchen table.” Tony looked concerned, his mouth opening like he was going to ask a question, but you pressed on, wanting to mention this to him, “And that guy from Monaco was at the gala we went to and he was watching me.”

Tony cocked his head. “What?”

“Laurie. That French guy.”

That caught Tony’s attention and he asked seriously, “He was stateside? At the gala?”

“Yes. Is that not normal? Cause he was looking pretty creepy.”

For a split second, you saw genuine apprehension in his face. But, Tony cleared his throat and adjusted in just another second, the mask coming up. He forced a smile, covering up the concern that had been there moments before, and said, “It’s fine. Just weird that he was watching you is all.”

You did not believe him for apparent reasons, mainly his body language. And he changed the subject quickly, “I brought you some gifts over here in this bag, but you can’t open them until Christmas.”

Holding back a sigh that he had brushed it off so easily, you asked, “Did you wrap them?”

“No,” Tony admitted, and you frowned. He explained, “Definitely paid to have that done.” He noticed the look on your face and asked jokingly, “Is that going to be a problem? I can send them back to the park.”

“No. It’s just astounding to me that people don’t like wrapping presents. It’s one of my favorite things. Make sure they look perfect.”

He leaned over the side of the couch and dug through the bag he must have placed down when he came in. “Speaking of cookies…” He came back up with a plain box and handed it to you. “That one you can open now cause it’s perishable.”

You took it from him, opening the box to find Mickey gingerbread cookies and an assortment of other Christmas decorated fudge and cookies.

“Don’t make yourself sick,” Tony commented.

“What a dad thing to say. Have you not left that mode?” you retorted, shooting him a look.

“I see your wit hasn’t lessened. Why do you try to push my buttons?”

“Because it’s fun,” you told him and he sucked his bottom lip in at that slightly, watching you.

Taking one of the pieces of fudge, you closed the box and put it on the coffee table. You took a bite and then held out the other half to him. He leaned forward, taking it, his lips wrapping around your fingers. You smirked at the flirtation, savoring the piece in your own mouth.

“Too bad you’re feeling sore,” Tony said after he swallowed his piece. “That was mighty rude of Steve.”

“Quite,” you agreed.

“Well, we will just have to wait then. Let you get good and limber again. That should take what/ A night?” You snorted at that. “What? I can be patient. And thoughtful.”

Satisfied knowing he was not going to try to push you tonight, you laid back down, tucking yourself back under the blanket, snuggling up on his thigh.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you told him sincerely as you started the movie again.

You felt his fingers caress your side at that.

<><><>

“How was it here?” Tony asked the next day at the office, as Steve placed a coffee on his desk from the intern that had gone on a coffee run for the office.

Steve shrugged, “Alright. She was well behaved. We went to the gala. And I spoke with Richard there, got that all sorted out. He’s going to open up the port when we need it.”

“Anyone notice you two speaking about that matter?” Tony questioned.

“Of course not. Everyone had their noses too far down in their drinks.”

Tony snorted in response before he asked, “Did you notice Laurie?”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Laurie who? Capron?” Tony nodded. Steve shook his head, “No. Why?”

“Y/N did. He was watching her.”

“Okay?” Steve said slowly, not getting it. And he should not because Tony had omitted the part about the bet when he mentioned to Steve that Laurie had been displeased he was meeting with Alexandre.

“Well, you know how I raced?” Steve nodded in acknowledgment. “He challenged me. Laurie did. Wanted to bet on Y/N.” Steve’s lips parted, vexation washing over his features. Tony said quickly, “That’s why I raced. I wasn’t gonna leave it in the hands of that random person they were having race for the company.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Steve demanded. “Tony, what the fuck?”

“It wasn’t relevant. I won, didn’t I?”

“Why did you accept at all?”

“Because you know he would have just asked to take her right then. You know him. And I didn’t want to start that shit right there in front of all those cameras or put Y/N in that position or embarrass her.” Tony exhaled sharply and leaned forward over his desk, “Just… keep your head on a swivel. I don’t like that he’s stateside. He was really not happy about that meeting with Alexandre.”

Steve’s jaw was tight staring Tony down before he finally sighed, “Fine. Yeah. I’ll… we’ll figure out what he’s doing here.”

<><><>

“I still can’t figure out what to get you for Christmas,” you told Steve, watching him from the bed. He had come home during the day for a quickie. He had stayed away for a few days, much to your muscle’s relief.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” Steve told you as he pulled his pants up, working on his belt. “You’re enough.”

Picking at the sheet, you stared down at it, chewing on your bottom lip. Steve was moving around getting ready and he broke the silence, “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

“Are you going to let me go home for Christmas?” you asked, looking at him hopefully.

Steve stilled for a moment in buttoning up his shirt, his eyes running over you there. You did not break eye contact, wanting to make it clear you were serious about this.

“I have been thinking about that,” Steve admitted. “Most of the guys have family they want to be with. You wouldn’t have anyone here – that I would want to be here that is – to watch you anyway.” Steve gave a tight-lipped smile. “So, my hands are kind of tied here.”

Hope was blossoming in your chest.

“I need to talk to Tony about it. But there will be rules. You’d need to check in regularly. It’d be a short trip. A couple days.”

“That’s okay,” you said eagerly.

Steve’s eyes crinkled and you closed your mouth, trying to relax again. He watched you for a few more moments before he went back to finishing buttoning up his shirt. He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the chair and put it on too.

Coming over to the bed again, he gave you a kiss. “Don’t forget to wash the sheets before Tony gets home.”

“I will,” you said to his retreating back.

<><><>

You walked up the front steps, already hearing the chatter from inside. You could see some of your family in the living room window, laughing, already playing games. That was a Christmas Eve tradition. Taking a deep breath, you opened the front door. You had not called your grandma to tell her you were coming. The only ones who knew were a couple of your cousins you had reached out to.

When they noticed it was you, there was a chorus of happy greetings.

A wide smile coming across your face, you said hello in return as one of your aunts brought you to her, squeezing you close. Your bag fell by the wall by the door and you left it there to make the rounds.

Your grandma and grandpa were both in their respective chairs, your grandpa excited to see you. You made sure to hug him tight, kissing him on top of his head.

Turning you looked at your grandma. You had not spoken to her since you had left here weeks ago.

You asked gently, “Merry Christmas. How are you?”

“Better now that you are here, dear,” your grandma answered sincerely, a warm smile gracing her lips.

You broke at that, closing the space between the two of you and you wrapped her up in a tight hug. She held you back in return, and you blinked back tears knowing what she had said when you saw her last was true about her not being upset with you. Steve and Tony had not ruined your relationship after all.

<><><>

You looked down at your phone on the table and saw Tony was calling. You quickly snatched it off the table to avoid your cousin from seeing the name. One of your uncles had just begun to serve dessert. You had agreed to texts, not calls. What was Tony doing? You had just texted them an hour ago, sending them a pic that you were really at the house.

Getting up from the table, you said, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, hurry back! You don’t wanna miss my cake!” your uncle said as he cut in, placing another piece on a plate to distribute.

You smiled, “Of course not. It looks delicious.”

Turning away from the table, you saw the call had already gone to voicemail, much to your worry. But he was already calling again.

Coming into the hallway, you brought the phone up to your ear and answered in a hushed tone, “Hello?”

“There you are,” Tony responded, sounding taut. “Thought you were ignoring me and I was going to be pretty fucking irritated.” He sounded well on his way to being drunk; you knew the switch in his voice by now. “Make me regret letting you go off at all.”

“Well, I’m here. I’m at the house.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. I just… you’re gonna find a private space for yourself and then call me back on FaceTime.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m horny, Y/N and I needed a distraction for a moment. Get the tension out of myself. I hate the missus family. Go to the bathroom or something and give me a show.”

“Tony,” you hissed into the phone as you continued walking down the hall and the staircase leading to the lower part of the house. “We are in the middle of dessert. That’s—”

“You’re wasting time,” he interrupted you. “I’ve got to get back to this stupid party sooner rather than later. I’m already halfway worked up. Don’t leave me hanging, love. I just need to see you. Real quick. Promise. Call me back.”

He hung up the phone and you stared down at it dumbly for a few moments before letting out a strangled, frustrated noise. Your hand gripped the newel post as you propelled yourself down the staircase to go to the bathroom downstairs. Not following what he was asking would only get you in trouble and really make him regret letting you come here and have him refuse you in the future.

You locked the bathroom door for good measure. Turning around, you took a deep breath, trying to relax. You had given shows like this before, it was not foreign to you. All he wanted to see was you playing with yourself.

Pressing the callback for FaceTime, he answered, “Thank god. What were you doing?”

“I had to go downstairs,” you told him.

Fortuitously, you were wearing a skirt and it was loose. You pulled your underwear down, kicking them off. Taking your top off, you tossed it by your underwear. Looking around the bathroom, you looked for something you could use to prop up your phone and you spotted a small statue. Snatching it off the shelf, you sat down on the ground, your back against the tub. Using the statue, you propped the phone to point towards you and you spread your legs.

“Yeah, that’s good,” you heard Tony say softly and you could hear him already starting to jerk himself.

Your hand came to your pussy and you ran your fingers slowly up and down, not moving past your lips yet.

“How do you think I taste?” you asked, stroking slowly.

“So fucking good,” Tony returned, strained.

“You like tasting me?”

“It’s my favorite.”

Pressing one finger in, you moaned lowly. Your fingers came up to your mouth and you sucked on them before coming back to your clit, circling quickly.

“I wish it was you,” you keened, your fingers delving deeper.

“Fuck, me too,” Tony husked, speeding up.

Freeing your tits from your bra, you played with them, moaning as your fingers moved quicker. You kept your voice low as you teased him, hoping that no one would come up to the door. You had chosen the bathroom at the back of the house for a reason; the bigger one was closer to where everyone was.

Tony let out a groan as you described how wet and hot you were for him.

“I’m yours. All yours,” you told him, sultry.

“Shit, baby, I’m so close,” Tony groaned.

“Come for me, please,” you half whined, spreading your lips further apart to give him a better view inside. You continued encouraging him, circling your clit quickly.

“Fuck!” Tony exclaimed, shuddering breaths leaving him, and you knew he had finished. Your hand slowed and you waited until you were sure he was done before you dropped your hand. Picking up the phone, you covered your pussy again. The phone was pointed up at the ceiling; he must have laid it down on the counter.

After a few moments, he exhaled deeply, “Christ. Thank you, baby. That was good.” He picked the phone back up and said, “I gotta get cleaned up. Don’t forget to text. Have fun at your party.”

He hung up and you let out a breath of relief that he had one, gotten off, and two, no one had interrupted you.

You got yourself straightened out again, remembering to flush just to keep up the allusion. You did wash your hands though for real before leaving the bathroom.

“Thought you fell in,” one of your cousins joked when you appeared back in the dining room.

“No, sorry to disappoint,” you returned, pulling your chair back out and you sat down, picking up your fork. Everyone was almost done or already done. You took a big bite and chewed, savoring it. You gave your uncle the thumbs up down the table and he looked happy.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #dark marvel fic #my shit

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firefliesintheskyline · 3 years

Text

A Poem In Flowers

PAIRING : Nicky x Joe

PROMPT : Flower Shop AU

(now on ao3 !)

“Oh-oh, he’s gonna pay for that!”

“Booker, we can’t just barge in, we don’t even know how—“

“He stole them from you! Isn’t it clear enough?”

Nicky frowned, listening to the loud voices coming from outside. It was usually a quiet neighborhood, especially at that time of the day.

“Let’s just go inside!"

He was startled when someone opened the door of his flower shop with more strength than needed.

“Booker, can you please calm down a little? You’re going to scare him.”

Nicky looked at the guy who had just spoken, feeling more intrigued than afraid. The fact that the newcomer was also incredibly handsome was definitely a plus.

“Mr. Di Genova, I believe?,” the other man said, in a pissed and totally unfriendly way. Nicky took an instant dislike to him.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you here for a bridal bouquet?"

Not-nice jerk was caught off guard by his question, while cute-dude just chuckled. Of course, Nicky couldn’t help but find it extremely endearing.

“No, we… Okay, let’s start this properly. Nile, my assistant, came here a couple of days ago to pick up a bouquet for my wife.” If Nicky didn’t like this 'Booker' guy before, things only got worse after the last sentence. He appreciated the fact that Very Handsome Man (well, wasn’t his crush escalating quickly) seemed to give his friend a very nasty look at that. “There was a little card attached to the bouquet, a card that contained a short poem.”

Nicky nodded briefly.

“Yes, that’s my customers' favorite part of the bouquet and the very reason why they keep buying here.”

He felt a wave of pride while saying those words. After all, It had been his idea when he had first opened the shop, and he wasn’t going to take lessons from some uneducated asshole just because the guy couldn’t stand poetry.

Extremely Attractive Man (yep, that was it, no going back) gave him a contemplative look, almost as if he was trying to make sense of… something.

“Well, isn’t that nice? Stealing someone else's art and then using it to make a profit?,” rude-dude retorted.

Nicky felt his blood run cold. He didn’t like the tone nor what was being implied, and he was starting to get extremely pissed.

“Look, I’m sorry for Sebastien here, he can be very nasty when he wants.” Nicky noticed that Unbelievably Hot Guy had also Incredibly Nice Lips and Absolutely Gorgeous Eyes, and he was almost starting to forget why he was pissed in the first place, while oh-so-not staring at him. “We just read the card and found it very similar to… well, one of my poems. And since it wasn’t signed, I just wanted to understand what was going on, find out if maybe someone was taking credit that wasn’t theirs?”

The revelation had Nicky almost drop his jaw. He knew he should focus on the accusation, but all he could do was stare at the guy who was apparently responsible for keeping Nicky up more nights than he could remember, thinking about the brilliant mind behind those perfect words.

“I actually bought them," was all that came out of Nicky’s mouth.

He realized that maybe he should have added more when the two friends shared a look, seeming rather confused.

“I haven’t published any of them, yet.”

“No, I mean… they were in a jar. I bought the jar.”

For a couple of minutes, there was only silence in the shop. Poet Guy - who was still very hot and still without a damn name to go with his face - opened his mouth a couple of times, but didn’t seem to know what to say, until his eyes widened. Nicky was pretty sure he’d had some sort of epiphany, and he wasn’t the only who had noticed.

“Joe? Joe, are you okay? What is he talking about?”

Joe - Nicky was secretly beaming, he'd finally gotten the name of the man who would haunt all his future dreams - looked very close to an existential crisis.

“Do you remember during college, when I used to live with Andy?” Sebastien nodded, but Nicky was too concentrated on Joe to even notice. “Well, there was this big red jar on the table, in the middle of the living room. Whenever I was struggling with a short poem, instead of throwing the paper away, I would just fold it and put it in the jar.”

Well, if those were Joe’s definition of failed poems, Nicky couldn’t wait to find some way or another to date this guy just so he could read the good ones.

“When she moved in with Quynh, she took the jar with her. I didn’t even realize at first, and after a while I sort of forgot about it. I also didn’t really care because I was sure she’d keep it, since she took it in the first place.” Joe seemed lost, and looked at Nicky as if he was the only one who could make sense of it all.

“If it helps, I can tell you that I bought it from a woman, long hair, mischievous smile, who said she was glad her wife was away for a while so she had time to get rid of the - and I quote - “atrocious bloody colored vase”?” Nicky finished the sentence with a sheepish smile, feeling himself blushing all of sudden.

“I don’t know what I was expecting, but this was definitely not it.” Sebastian shook his head and looked at Joe. “I don’t even think we can force him to stop, since technically he did buy the jar."

“I will definitely stop if Joe is uncomfortable with it.” Nicky raised his voice, slightly insulted by the insinuation. “I would never try to harm or profit from someone else’s work. Especially if that someone is an amazingly talented poet."

Joe was staring at him, looking entranced.

“But you said it yourself, this is what makes your customers coming back. I wouldn’t want to be the one to do the damage to you.”

Nicky was so going to marry this guy. On the spot. Damn it, he would even accept the obnoxious dude as the best man if he had to.

“Maybe we can work out a good compromise?” Nicky’s voice softened, almost as if he was about to share a secret. “I could still put the cards in the bouquet, but with your signature underneath each poem. And I’d give you a percentage over it, of course.”

“I, uh,” Joe’s cheeks were turning a lovely shade of red, and Nicky was torn between feeling pride in being the one who was actually responsible for that and wanting to melt at the sight of it, “what can I say, you do make it sound like a win-win situation. But, as I was saying before, those aren’t exactly poems I feel very confident about.”

“So why not write some new ones to go along with my bouquet?” Nicky knew, deep down, that he was pushing his luck, but he'd found that he really didn’t care that much, especially if he could find a way to get Joe to come back to his shop.

“Oh my God, I’m done. I’m not gonna stand here any longer watching the two of you shamelessly flirt like teenagers.” Sebastien threw his hands up in the air and started walking towards the door, turning around only to yell at Joe, “if you get laid tonight, remember to send me a 'thank you' note!"

“Once again, I really, really do apologize for him. He can be unbelievably crass, but he’s a good friend.” For the first time since he'd entered the shop, Joe gave Nicky a full-on smile, all teeth and dimples. And that’s when Nicky realized, once and for all, that he was utterly fucked.

“No problem,” Nicky let out in a croaked voice, finding it rather difficult to put together a coherent though, “I hope you’ll consider my offer.”

“I most definitely will.” Joe ran his fingers through his hair, looking almost embarrassed. “Maybe we could talk about it over a cup of coffee? I know a place nearby.”

And that’s how they ended up in the coffee shop owned by Quynh, who was absolutely delighted when they told her the whole story and didn’t even try to apologize to Joe, since she had just given him “the single most exciting meet cute of his entire existence”.

(Two years later, at their wedding, Booker and Quynh were still arguing over which one of them was responsible for such a lucky encounter. Nicky secretly spent his days thanking them both).

#the old guard #tog #nicky x joe #joe x nicky #yusuf x nicolo #nicolo x yusuf #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #booker #sebastien le livre #quynh #flower shop au #meet cute #first meeting #the old guard au #immortal husbands #kaysanova

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sierraraeck · 4 years

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One More Night

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer stays in town after the case to try and convince you to give him one more night, and one last chance, to change your mind before marrying another man. Part two.

Category: Fluff with some angst because apparently I can’t write anything without it.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Inspired by the song “One More Night” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

What you had feared finally happened. The floodgates had opened. Not just opened, but blown apart, letting the roaring water take over, sweeping away everything in its path. Potentially including the nice life you’d just created for yourself.

And to Spencer’s credit, he was very persistent.

You walked away from that hotel room in a mess of tears. Telling the man you’d loved for years that you can’t be with him was an emotional load you were not ready, nor willing, to carry. It took you the entire car ride, the long way home, and two extra loops around your neighborhood before you felt calm enough to go inside and face Jordan.

Jordan.

The endearing, handsome, smart, loving, and appreciative man you were set to marry in just a couple weeks. And now you felt like a terrible person who didn’t deserve him because of this Spencer problem, and your sort of emotional cheating. Not to mention the kiss. Which you let happen. But you did pull away right? You did reality check the situation and you did walk away. That counted for something, right? You chose Jordan.

You pulled into the garage, and with one final deep breath, you walked into your small, but cozy, house. The smell hit your nose before anything else, and you knew before having to enter the kitchen that he was making his famous lasagna and homemade garlic bread. God, he spoiled you sometimes.

“Wow, would you smell that,” you said with an exaggerated breath in, dropping your bag and shoes at the door.

“Atrocious, isn’t it? Good thing I’ve gone noseblind by now,” he turned around as you approached the kitchen, giving you a sweet, welcome home kiss. “You didn’t eat, right? I knew you were going out with that old friend of yours, but I couldn’t remember if that was for food or just - hey, everything okay?”

You tried to hide the slight panic from your voice when replying, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He shook his head, “Uh, I mean, your eyes just look a little puffy that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a rough day today,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did something happen with that friend of yours?” he questioned.

Yes. “No, not like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. How was your day?” you asked. He launched into a story about how the new girl at work couldn’t seem to get anything right, and how he questioned if she even actually went to law school or not. You assured him that she’d get better with time. Everything gets better with time. Right?

You let him finish his cooking and the two of you sat down together for dinner, talking about work and friends and then he brought up wedding planning. Which you weren’t really in the mood or mindset for. And to make matters worse, he had to go and get all sweet on you.

“God, I can’t wait to get married. Sometimes I still wake up and can’t believe it’s real. I choose you, for the rest of my life, and I can’t wait until you officially choose me too. I hope you know that,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

He could always make you feel better, even when you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I do know that, and I love you, Jordan. So much.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When you woke up, you felt much happier than you did the night before. Jordan was everything you wanted and more than you could hope for. Spencer was going back across the country to his job, and you were going back to yours.

Or at least, that was the plan.

When you arrived at work, you walked toward your office only to be frantically stopped by one of the interns who was currently under your supervision. “Uh, sorry to bother you, but there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”

“What? I didn’t forget a meeting did I?” you panicked.

“Oh, no, this is just some random guy. He told me he knew you and I couldn’t really stop him from coming in,” she said.

“O-okay. Thank you,” you said, and brushed by her, your curiosity driving you to your office even before you stopped for your morning coffee. You practically threw open the door and froze in your tracks.

That was not just some random guy waiting for you in your office.

“What are you doing here?”

Spencer looked up at you from the chair across your desk that usually seated clients or co-workers. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue. Can we talk? I brought coffee.”

He gave you a small smile and gestured toward the cup sitting on your desk. Can we talk? That’s always a good sign.

You snapped out of the frozen state you’d been in, shutting your office door and crossing the room to sit in your chair. You took a long sip of your coffee under Spencer’s watchful eye. “What can I help you with?” You did everything in your power not to sigh.

“No, nothing like that,” he said, breaking you out of your attorney-client attitude. “I just - I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just looked at him, inviting him to continue. Luckily he did, breaking the silence, “I know that you have something with Jordan-”

“-we’re engaged, yes,” you corrected him. It wasn’t just ‘something.’ It was a serious commitment.

“Right. You and him are engaged, and I know that there isn’t much I can do or say, but I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” you questioned. You were confused, and tired of being so considering you thought you’d just passed the only bit of confusion you would experience.

“A chance to change your mind. To make sure that you are making the right decision,” he stated.

Your mouth was hanging open. Is he seriously asking me on a date right now? “Spencer, I am making the right decision. And are you asking me out?”

“I guess so. And if you are making the right decision with Jordan, then this should change nothing. If by the end of it, you feel nothing for me and you know that you want to be with Jordan for the rest of your life, then I did everything I can, and I know you are happy. But if that is not the case, and you still have feelings for me too, then…” he trailed off, followed by a sigh, “All I’m asking is that you give me one more night.”

“You are asking me to cheat on my fiance.”

“No, I am asking you to give me one more night, one more chance, to change your mind.”

He stared at you with intense eyes, searching yours for an answer. You sat there, trying to process everything that was happening, weighing your options. I can’t do this, right? It’ll basically be like going on a date when I’m about to get married. But he did say that if I’m confident in Jordan, which I am, this won’t change anything. And it won’t. If he needs this to know that he did everything he could, to give him some closure, what’s the harm? It won’t do anything except give him some piece of mind. I’ll do this for his benefit. And how bad could just one night be?

“Fine,” you said, and his lips immediately turned up, “I’ll be out of here by six, hopefully.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he said simply, getting up to head towards the door.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re meeting?”

“No. It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up from work?”

You let out another sigh, but tried to cover it with, “Alright.”

He shot you one last smile before exiting your office, and you couldn’t help but return it. But only a little bit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You were expecting yourself to dread the end of the day, knowing that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t end well, but in spite of yourself, you were actually looking forward to it. The day couldn’t go by fast enough actually, and you were out of the office the moment the clock hit six. You quickly sent Jordan a text explaining that you were very busy with work, and would have to stay late. You felt guilty lying to him. He deserved your honesty, but he also deserved your undivided love and attention, which you knew you couldn’t give him until this was put to rest. Telling him about some stupid little one-time ‘closure’ thing for an old flame before you got married was not what he needed to hear. So you slowly descended the stairs to the lobby, and reminded yourself: This is for Spencer’s benefit, it won’t change my mind, I’m only giving him one more night, and that’s it.

You reached the lobby and looked around for that fluffy head of hair you knew had to be there somewhere. Then you felt a small tap on your right shoulder, and turned in that direction. The moment you noticed no one was there, you knew what was going on. You rolled your eyes as you dramatically turned to your left and huffed, “I hate you.”

“Or so you claim,” Spencer said, beaming. He could always get you with that one, no matter how many times he did it to you. It was infuriating, but somewhat endearing to see his goofy smile every time you fell for it. “You never learn.”

“Yeah, because no other normal person does that to people on a regular basis,” you defended.

“(y/n), when have we ever been normal?” You raised your eyebrows. He had a point.

He ushered you out of the building and toward the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“I told you. It’s a surprise,” he said, opening up the passenger side door for you.

“Spencer, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. Please, (y/n), let me do this for you.” With that, you got in the car, and surrendered your evening to the whim of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Now, you knew California pretty well. Grew up and lived there your entire life. Yet, somehow, wherever Spencer was taking you was in a direction that was unfamiliar, and what you could grasp at around you didn’t point to some destination spot that you would consider a ‘destination spot.’

Thirty minutes in, and the scenery looked as though you were headed to the woods, which didn’t make sense since that was not at all Spencer’s scene, and it made you realize you were probably inappropriately dressed in your work clothes. You gave Spencer a questioning side eye, and you saw him suppress a smirk. Only a couple minutes later, the trees cleared a bit, revealing a charming little town. And by little, you mean little. Like a total of ten or so establishments little.

Spencer moseyed on over to a white box of a building with a glistening sign reading “California’s Best Italian.” You gave Spencer yet another look when he parked the car, but he still didn’t offer you more than a small smile. As you both got out of the car, you rolled your eyes and skeptically asked, “California’s best Italian, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he replied. He saw the seriousness in your eyes and assured, “It is vastly underrated, trust me.”

So you did just that, walking into the building with Spencer. The entire dining room, which was surprisingly bigger than you’d imagined from the outside, was empty. The hostess waiting at the front door smiled at the two of you, and led you to an already set table. It had all the classics: white table cloth, candle light, a few roses in the middle, two awaiting glasses of champagne. It was cliche as hell, but nevertheless stunning. As you sat down you realized that, while you’d been on amazing dates with Jordan and they were all adventurous and unconventional, that you’d never had the ‘out-of-the-movies’ dinner date experience.

You were impressed, to say the least, and whispered, “How’d you pull this off?”

“We may or may not have worked a case here a while back. They said we could cash in a favor any time we’d like for helping them. This was mine,” he sheepishly admitted. You did everything you could to not gape at him, but you're sure his trained eye could read you anyway.

“Spencer, seriously you didn’t have to-”

“I know. You keep saying that, but I wanted to,” he reminded you in the same way he did earlier that evening.

The same smiley hostess that met you at the door earlier returned with menus, and there was a twinkle in her eye that made you wonder just what Spencer had told them this was. Not like you’d ever ask. You weren’t even sure you wanted the answer.

You looked over the menu and ordered shrimp fettuccine while Spencer ordered a classic spaghetti.

“Still with the simple classics,” you tutted.

“You can never go wrong with them. Especially spaghetti,” he said, eyes getting wider. You had to let out a slight laugh at his childlike giddiness at something so trivial as spaghetti. But that was just Spencer. Sharing facts and getting happy over the little things. It was kinda refreshing to see, especially considering the dark nature of both of your jobs.

When dinner was served, it smelled amazing. You practically moaned at your first bite, and apologized for underestimating the small diner. You had to agree: they really did have the best Italian food in California.

Conversation with Spencer started a little rocky, the two of you getting reacquainted with each other before it started to flow like you’d never spent time apart. You related on the work front, and talked about friends and co-workers. You laughed about past and present things, and for a moment, you forgot there was a world outside this time-warped one that Spencer had created for the two of you. It was just so natural; you always knew it had been. Your quirks and his quirks complimented each other, and the way you’d both grown into older versions of your nerdy college selves but with somewhat better social skills was almost amusing. You were both entirely invested in your jobs, and you could see just how much he cared about everyone. The families he worked tirelessly for, and those he worked tirelessly with. And you. God, he cared about you so much, it had to have been squeezing his heart into oblivion.

When you both finished your meal and your champagne, Spencer stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up, and gave him a questioning look. Dining and dashing was not in Spencer’s fortey, so without really knowing what to do, you reached for your credit card.

“Oh, no,” the waitress said with a grin, “This was on the house.”

“That’s very sweet, but really I can-” you started, waving your card around.

“No, seriously. Anything for Doctor Reid and his company,” she insisted, still grinning, now accompanied by an eyebrow raise. You returned her smile, trying to hide the slight confusion on your face. Now you really wanted to know what Spencer had told them this was.

“Come on,” Spencer whispered, ushering you out of the restaurant.

Once you exited, you asked, “You really must have saved their asses for them to treat you like that.”

“I may have down played just what happened to this town,” he admitted, “but it’s not that important. Unless you want to hear about it.”

“I could go for a brief synopsis,” you shrugged.

“About a year ago, this town had one of the worst serial killers we’ve ever seen. By the time we got here, there were already six bodies and counting. He moved fast and we found out that his real target was the owner of that restaurant. We saved them with only seconds to spare, and I was the one with the final shot. It’s a family business, so they were all very relieved and grateful we saved their family and their life’s work.” He said it so casually you gaped at him. You knew how modest he could be, but he really couldn’t see how heroic he sounded. He must’ve been uncomfortable by your staring, because he followed with, “What? What is it?”

“Just, you say that like it happens every day.”

“Well, it is my job, so it does kind of happen frequently,” he pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, but not for the everyday person. Those people see you as their knight in shining armor, Spencer. I think you should indulge yourself in that every now and then,” you advised.

“I am no one’s ‘knight and shining armor,’” he replied, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded, and he looked at you with a serious face, “You catch the bad guy. You can’t get more heroic than that. Plus, you are keeping people from all over the country safe, not to mention keeping me employed.”

He offered a small laugh at that, and continued walking down the road past the car.

“What are you doing? The car’s right here,” you arched an eyebrow.

“I know,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“So we’re walking,” you phrased it more as a statement than a question. You only got a nod in response. “Seriously? You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” He just shook his head as his smile grew. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” you joked.

“Come on, you love surprises,” he said.

“Yeah, because usually I already have a good idea what’s going to happen,” you quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Then maybe you should have been the profiler.”

You laughed, “Yeah, no. I’m good where I am, thanks. I’ll leave the whole guns, shooting criminals, flying across the country at 2am thing to you.”

“I feel very certain you have your fair share of 2am work nights.”

“Oh I do. I’m just at home sipping coffee in my sweats, not in work clothes on a plane to the middle of nowhere,” you acknowledged, and he put his hands up as to say ‘touche.’ “But hey, the next time I’m up at 2am, I’ll be sure to take comfort in the fact that at least someone else is too, probably going over files just like me.”

“Yeah, that, and that you have better coffee than us,” he said, as you stepped off the main road and in the direction of the trees. You didn’t take Spencer for an ‘outdoorsy’ kinda guy either, in fact, you knew he wasn’t unless things had drastically changed in six years, but you kept your mouth shut. Mainly because you were outdoorsy, and you knew he was trying to make things fun for you. Once you got to a certain point, Spencer stopped and turned to face you. “Close your eyes.” You opened your mouth to protest the ‘surprise’ thing again, but he cut you off before you had the chance. “Trust me, okay?”

Without another word, you closed your eyes with a sigh. He led you slowly through the trees, fingers laced through yours, narrating the landscape to make sure you wouldn’t trip or lose your footing.

“Almost there,” he said, taking a few more paces forward before coming to a complete stop. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

When you did, you were blinded by the beauty before you. There was a half circle of rock surrounding you with a waterfall coming from the opposite side. It hit the sugar-white sand below it, trailing into the small aqua pond, which opened up to the beach from between rocks and palm trees. On top of that, there was a warm sunset turing the wispy clouds shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was straight out of a movie, or a dream, and you honestly couldn’t believe it was real.

“What do you think?” Spencer asked in a small voice from beside you, and you realized you hadn’t done anything except gasp since you saw it.

“Spence, this is - this is incredible. You really outdid yourself,” you said, and he had. It was breathtaking. “How’d you find this place?”

“It’s a small town secret, I guess. We found it when we were here.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you found a body here or something,” you grimaced.

“No! Definitely not!” Spencer clarified, “I just remembered you always mentioning wanting to go to a nice, small, secluded beach. This isn’t exactly a beach, but it is very close to one and definitely secluded.” You relaxed even more with that information, and Spencer led you over to the edge of the water, hand still enveloped in yours.

Don’t get carried away. Remember, this is just for his benefit. You released his hand, giving him a small smile, and walked over to the waterfall. He followed, and looked up at it with the same awed look you did. “You know, to qualify as a waterfall, only one segment of the falls must be at least five feet high. Most generally accepted waterfalls must be located on a river, creek, or stream that provides a source of water at least annually. This one is on the shorter side of average height at about 25 feet, and comes off of a stream from above. The largest waterfall in the world is Angel Falls with a total height of 3,212 feet, but plunge falls are known to have taller average heights. This one here is a punchbowl waterfall, because it descends into a constricted form, and then spreads out in a wider pool. Usually-” he suddenly cut himself off, looking down. “Uh, sorry.”

You snapped your eyes over to him, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?”

“What?”

You repeated yourself, enunciating each word carefully, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?” Spencer looked up at you, but with no answer. “We initially connected because you could answer every single question I had for you, no matter the subject, whether I needed help with it or not. We finally got to the point where I didn’t even have to ask anymore, because all you had to do was look at my face and know that I needed answers, answers you always had. There’s no need to apologize. You know I enjoy your facts,” you emphasized.

He smiled at you and rambled on about his waterfall facts, finishing with, “... and today, many people enjoy going swimming near or around waterfalls. Especially the punchbowl kind.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Is that an invitation Spencer Reid?”

“It could be if you wanted it to be,” he agreed sheepishly.

“Well, then what are we waiting for,” you teased. You marched over to a dry, flat rock and stripped off your work clothes, only keeping your underwear on. You then waded out into the water, all the while Spencer just watching you, seemingly paralyzed. You encouraged, “Spence, get out here!”

He started to make a move in the same direction you’d left your stuff, saying, “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He tried to add some enthusiasm to his voice, but you knew he really wasn’t a fan of the water. Or the sand for that matter. Or interacting with nature as much as swimming required. But nevertheless, he discarded his clothes and padded toward the little ‘punchbowl’ as he just educated you on.

And then a thought popped into your head, “Spencer, have you ever been to the beach before? Like, have you gone swimming at the beach?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he shook his head just a little. “It just usually seems … unsanitary. You know, the average number of people who visit the beach each year is around 58.67 million.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but unfortunately you are not one of them. Yet. Look, I know you kinda hate the water and the beach and stuff, but don’t worry, I am here to help,” you assured. You wadded toward him where the water was only about shin-high and held out your hand. “Do you remember a long time ago when you first told me you’d never been to the beach?”

He nodded. “It was close to one of the first things you asked me.”

“It was. And you told me you hadn’t. And do you remember what I told you?”

“You said, ‘I am determined to be the first person you go to the beach with. I promise I will make your beach-going experience great, and I have a strong feeling you will start to enjoy it.’”

“Exactly. So, are you ready?” you asked.

“For what?” Instead of answering, you slowly coaxed him further into the water. He shivered a bit as the cool water surrounded his hips.

“Don’t worry. You’re body will adjust,” you smiled, even though he probably already had plenty of stats on that, too. He paused for just a second as you got deeper into the water, which caused you to turn and face him completely. He heaved a breath, but then continued, you taking both of his hands in yours, walking backward farther into the water until it was up to your neck. The water pooled around Spencer's shoulders, and you said contently, “See? It’s not too bad, is it?”

“I guess not. Not when you’re here to help me,” he smiled.

You tried to shake off the feelings coursing through your veins, composed yourself, and replied, “Good.” Then, without warning, you dove out into the middle of the water. When you came to the surface, you shook your hair out and had to laugh at the way Spencer was staring at you.

You didn’t even have to prompt him in order for him to understand the playful look in your eyes. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I am not that person.”

You smirked at him, “You are now, Mathlete.”

He rolled his eyes at your old nickname for him, but he pushed farther out into the water. He came all the way out to you, at least somewhat knowing how to tread water, when you brought your wet hands up to his hair. With little droplets of water running down the side of his neck and jaw and your hands still in his hair, he went completely under water. Once he was under, his hands were at your thighs, and a whole new set of feelings clouded into your head. When he came back up, he was only inches from your face, your hands behind his head and his on your back. And then your lips were on each other’s, moving with a mind of their own. He pulled you closer and you clung to him like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving in expert ways only he could remember how to do after this long. You started to wrap your legs around his middle, when you realized you’d probably sink together out in the middle of the pool, thanks to you swimming all the way out there. You finally parted with a big intake of breath, separating slightly so you could both stay afloat.

Before he could say anything, you flipped some water up into his face. He shut his eyes with little amusement, and his pout made him look even cuter. When he opened them, the orange sun near setting reflected into his eyes, making them glow a brilliant gold. He was stunning. Everything about this was stunning.

“What was that for?” he asked, and you snapped out your trance-like state to remember that you’d splashed him with water.

You did it again with a chuckle for an answer. Then he caught on. He pushed water in your direction, and you back to him. You were both shoving water at each other and laughing at your full on water fight, and then you got out and started running from the waterfall and toward the beach only a few yards away. He came after you and grabbed you from behind. You’re not sure how it happened, but you both ended up on the white sand with a shriek. You laid there with your back against his chest, eyes stinging from the salt water and breathing deeply. You both had sand all over you, but you didn’t want to move. And clearly, neither did he, because you both laid there until the sun went down.

Goosebumps rose along your body as Spencer trailed his hands down your arms and side and back again.

“We should get dried off,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s getting cold. But we don’t have any towels.”

“They’re in the car.” You smiled to yourself and got up off the beach, trailing Spencer back to the car, clothes in hand.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

On the car ride back to the city, you told Spencer all the other cool beach things you would have wanted to introduce him to, like reading in the sun, drinking and eating under a cabana, and getting these mangos on a stick you could only seem to find in Mexico.

He grinned at you the whole way.

He parked the car outside of his hotel, and offered to let you shower off before leaving. You couldn’t really go home to Jordan with a bunch of sand on you, so you accepted. You got in first and he got in after.

By the time he was done, you were fully dried with your clothes back on. He came out with only a towel wrapped around him. You guessed he really was trying everything to keep you here. The tension was palpable and you didn’t really know what to say to him.

Thanks for the amazing date, I had so much fun, okay bye? You were great and you are making it so hard to walk away right now but I’m going to, thanks anyways? You couldn’t say any of those, but luckily, he stepped in for you.

“I know,” he said with a nod.

“Spencer, I-”

“I know,” he repeated. His eyes were sad and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. It pained you to see him like this, especially after everything he’d done for you that evening, and how happy he’d been the whole time. “It’s okay, I get it. Jordan.”

Jordan. “Yeah,” it was barely a whisper. You walked toward the door and reached for the handle. And then you froze. You just froze in place, not being able to go any further.

Then, without thinking, you turned around and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his. He seemed thrown by this, but only for a few moments, because he quickly melted into the kiss. You didn’t let it last long, pulling away without another look at him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around, giving you no choice but to raise your eyes to meet his. They looked a little red and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“Please. Don’t leave me, not again,” he begged. You were in agony even thinking about leaving him like this, but what else were you supposed to do? “Please don’t go (y/n).”

You didn’t know how to say no when he was at his lowest point and you were at your weakest. That’s not true. You did know how to say no, but not to him. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. “I won’t.”

It was already too late by the time you realized you had fallen back in love with him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up on Spencer’s chest, sheets a tangled mess around you. The daylight hit your eyes through the crack in the hotel curtains, and you realized what you’d just done.

I slept with another man. A man that is not my fiance, a man that I am not going to marry in a couple weeks. What have I done? What was I thinking?

But that’s the issue. You weren’t thinking. Being with Spencer didn’t require any thinking or effort or worry. It was easy. Yet nothing about waking up that morning with the guilt you felt was easy. You couldn’t stay there with Spencer for another moment knowing that you had to be the worst person on the planet at the moment. You threw your clothes on, trying to control your panicked breathing, swiping at the moisture collecting on your cheeks.

What was I thinking?

You scrambled to the door, making sure you had all of your belongings, and left. You made your way down the corridor to the sign that said ‘stairs’ across from a little sitting area near a large window.

You had barely gotten the door open when a voice called out, “Where are you going?”

You turned and saw Spencer frantically coming towards you. The noise you made in your rush to leave must have woken him up. “One more night, right? That was the deal,” you stated coldly.

“That's not really all this was to you, was it?” he asked, his eyes looked at you with a mix of emotions you could only guess to be betrayal and hurt.

But you stood your ground, “This is wrong.”

He started shaking his head, “No-”

“I have to go,” you insisted, turning back to the door.

“It’s not wrong (y/n). You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that what we have doesn’t feel right to you,” he pressed. There was an urgency in his voice you’d never really heard before.

“Jordan’s probably waiting for me.”

“Is he?”

How dare he question my fiance he knows nothing about! “Yes,” you spat, “because he’s an amazing man that I am going to marry, so I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“That’s not really what you’re thinking is it,” he hissed back, stating it more than asking. You stood there staring at him, not giving him an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him. Profiler or not, he always knew what you were thinking. He continued, “Actually, I don’t even think you think this is wrong.”

“Yes I do. It’s not fair-” you tried.

“Who’re you trying to convince?” Spencer cut you off.

You laced your voice with venom when you responded, “Don’t presume to know me or what I think.”

“Oh I’m not. You’re telling me that all by yourself,” he said as he quickly scanned you up and down.

“Don’t profile me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I was merely trying to point out how, while even though you are trying to leave, you are oriented toward me. Your feet are still pointed towards me, along with your shoulders. If you really wanted to leave, you’d be facing the door. Your head is tilted slightly, you’re leaning forward, and despite your irritation, you aren’t fidgety. You’ve subconsciously mirrored some of my movements, fixed your hair, adjusted the sleeves on your shirt, and wetted your lips. Not to mention the dilation of your eyes-”

You couldn’t take it anymore, “Why, why are you pushing this?” It sounded more like a plea than anything.

His eyes softened along with his voice, “Because I want you. I want to be with you, and I can’t let you slip through my fingers like last time. I am not going to make the same mistakes and I am not going to let my insecurities and uncertainties get in the way of us again.”

“Us?” your eyes bugging, “Spencer, there is no us.”

“How can you say that?” his voice seemed to raise an entire octave.

“Because there can’t be. I’m getting married in just over a week and I haven’t seen you in years, and then all the sudden you wanna give us another try? It didn’t work out the first time, what makes you think it will the second time?” you pressed.

“What makes you think it won't?”

“Don’t turn this on me.” You didn’t want him to avoid the question. It was a valid one, and one you’d always thought about when you heard of other on-and-off couples.

“We dated for about six years and never had any problems until I fucked it up. Had I stayed in contact, we’d probably still be together right now. Your turn,” he challenged, with fire in his eyes.

Fine. We can do it like this. “For starters, we are both stubborn and like to argue. We’ve seen and spent time together for a total of one day and two nights and we’ve already argued twice. Not to mention, we both have super time consuming jobs-”

“Which both you and Jordan do,” he interjected.

“-and we’ve both changed. We don’t know if we’re compatible anymore. Yes, we dated for six years, but then we spent six years apart. You can’t ask me to throw away a sure thing for a relationship I lost hope in a long time ago.”

“I can, and I am.” He said it with such confidence, it almost threw you off. Almost.

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not, please, don’t go. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your insecurities and uncertainties about us get in the way of what we have,” he faltered.

“And what is it we have exactly?” It was his turn to be silent, so you filled in for him. “With Jordan, I have no doubts. There is nothing complicated about him or what he and I have.”

“But do you love him like you loved me? Does he make you laugh after a long day at work? Does he go dancing with you even though he’s bad at it because he knows you love it? Does he know when to just sit there and hold you and when to encourage you to vent? Does he know that you are a morning person and love watching the sun rise even though you refuse to talk to anyone when you’ve just woken up? Does he burn the pancakes in the morning so that you can laugh and show him how it’s done? Does he know that after a bad day you like to eat breakfast for dinner because it’s your comfort food? And even though you’d never admit it, you secretly love those fake colored orchids? Does he make sure you rest when you overwork yourself so you don’t get a migraine? Does he know that you aren’t ticklish anywhere except on your left side? And can you tell him any and everything? Does he know that the only thing you hate more than stress is injustice? Can he make you feel as comfortable and stress free as I do? Can he give you that? Because I can, I know I can.”

“Spencer, stop.” You crossed your arms, desperate for him to relieve you from the guilt you already felt. How could you walk away from him? But how could you not?

But he wouldn’t stop, “I have. And I’m asking for another chance to give you that again, to show you that I will for as long as you let me.”

You offered one simple word in response, “Love.”

“What?” the confusion was obvious on his face.

“You said ‘like you loved me’. Love, Spencer. It’s not past tense,” you corrected.

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “What’re you saying?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m saying that you have given me a lot to think about, and that I need time. I know I don’t have much, but I need tonight, at least tonight. Can you give me that?”

“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation, “Of course.” You nodded, and turned back toward the staircase door as Spencer retreated, but he caught your attention one last time before you were out of earshot. “Oh, and (y/n)?”

“Yeah?” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You spent that night and the entire day following away from everyone. Jordan texted you to make sure you were okay, making a joke about getting cold feet. Which was not funny. You told him that you’d been slammed at work and were crashing at a co-worker, and close friend's apartment, which happened often. You two were looking over a case together, which was true, but in reality, you were sulking and they were very invested in your love life.

“‘But do you love him like you loved me?’ That’s very forward of him,” Ash spoke, taking a sip of their tea.

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you reminded them.

“But like, you said you love him,” Ash beamed. “Then again, you have Jordan to think about, too.”

“Okay, first, I’m concerned that you are taking so much pleasure in my very complicated love life-”

“If by complicated you mean having two great guys pining over you, then sure. Extremely unfortunate,” Ash deadpanned.

You continued as if they hadn’t spoke, “-secondly, I didn’t exactly say I love you-”

“Still counts.”

“-and third, what am I supposed to do? I have a ring on my finger and I just slept with another man.”

“Another man that was your first love that you also said ‘I love you’ to,” Ash again pointed out.

“Please stop reminding me,” you groaned.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I am freaking out and don’t know what to do! I can’t pretend like what happened with Spencer never happened, but I don’t think I can face Jordan, or tell him what happened, let alone marry him after all of this,” you exclaimed, voice raising.

“Okay, I know this is stressful, but I need you to sit down, and calm down,” Ash sterly said, dropping all amusement from their voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d stood up. You eased yourself back onto the couch, and looked over at them.

You took a deep breath, “You’re right. Freaking out is not going to help me. Not like I know what actually will.”

“Well let me ask you this,” Ash said, sitting upright, “Was he right?”

“What?”

“Was Spencer right? Does he give you things Jordan can’t? Does he make you feel more ‘at peace’ or however the hell he phrased it?” You opened your mouth to answer, but they cut you off right as you were about to speak, “And don’t lie. This is me trying to help you through your feelings, and telling me what you think is socially acceptable to say is not going to help anyone. Especially not you.”

“In a sense,” you relented.

“Okay, I guess I wasn’t clear. These are yes or no questions,” they clarified.

“How can they be? Relationships are not black and white, there is so much more to them!” you huffed.

“That’s true. But what is black and white is who you love more.” You started shaking your head profusely in denial. “I’m serious (y/n). You know you love one more than you love the other. You know who you feel more comfortable and more safe around. You know who you feel like you can trust with anything without being judged. And most importantly, you know who you feel the most like yourself around, and who makes you feel like the best and brightest version of yourself. You just aren’t ready to admit that, because either way, you’re hurt and they’re hurt. But don’t lie to yourself. You know,” Ash insisted.

“Ash, I can’t,” you whispered.

“You can, you will, and you have to. Just remember it’s not fair to either of them for you to string them along. It’s better to tell them. You have to just go for it,” they urged.

You groaned. “What do I even say? How am I supposed to do this?”

“Well, you are going to pull on your grown ass adult undies, and figure it out,” Ash spoke to you like you were a child, “Now get the fuck outta my place, you’ve been here far too long and have overstayed your welcome. And don’t you dare lie to them either because you think it’s the right thing to do. For once in your goddamn life (y/l/n), do the right thing for you.” And with that, they shoved you out of their apartment with your things, and locked the door in your face.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You got in your car and threw your things in the back. You sat there for a moment before screaming at the top of your lungs. You pounded on and shook the steering wheel, until you’d run out of breath.

Being in love with two men who loved you back at the exact same time was nothing like it was portrayed in the movies. It absolutely sucked. You couldn’t see how there was any possible way that the people in those movies ended up with a happy, fairy-tale ending, because all you could see right now was broken hearts. You were going to be hurting either way, but the real question was which way you were going to hurt the least.

Which is the exact thought on your mind as you pulled your car out of the apartment complex parking lot, and started driving.

For once in your goddamn life, do the right thing for you.

You were already halfway to your destination before you’d consciously made the decision to go there. You pulled up and parked your car outside. You walked up the stairs to the door and then stopped. Knocking on this door meant committing to a decision that would alter the rest of your life. You bit back the tears threatening to overflow, sure that you had made the right decision, even though it physically pained you to hurt him. You took a deep breath, put a smile on your face, and knocked.

The door swung open as if he’d been expecting you. You quickly embraced him, taking in his scent and basking in the comfort of his arms. Pulling away, you looked into those twinkling eyes staring back at you with adoration, which only confirmed that you’d made the right decision.

With a pounding heart and a weight lifted off your shoulders, you confessed, “I choose you.”

Payphone

A/N 2: To the lovely anon that encouraged me to do a part 2, I hope this lived up to your expectations. I know I didn’t completely clear everything up, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. =D

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #gn reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #reid #dr reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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gallavictorious · 3 years

Text

11x03 Fill-In Ficlet: Use Your Words (Or Don’t)

How do they go from sniping at each other in the kitchen to enthusiastically banging it out just a little while later? And why on Earth is horrible, horrible dirty talk suddenly a thing?

Well, they have this whole conversation where they basically talk things through but, you know, in their Ian and Mickey way of not talking things through but totally talking things through. You know? Also, there are kisses.

Warnings for some truly atrocious attempts at dirty talk but no actual smut. Also vague displays of a fucked-up relationship with violence, and clueless dumbasses trying, and only halfway succeeding, to chill with the misogyny and toxic masculinity. For all that this is mostly ridiculous and self-indulgent fluff.

Read below or on AO3.

---

They walk home from the Alibi together, but six feet apart and in silence.

Dinner is mostly silence, too, the celebration of Carl's first arrest dampened by Lip's outburst and Debbie storming off. Lip and Tami soon excuse themselves; Liam has homework; it's Carl's turn to do the dishes. (That mostly means they won't get done, but at least they'll know whom to blame when there's no clean plates or knives in the morning.)

Mickey's pours himself another glass of Jameson, but pauses when Ian abruptly rises from the table. His husband doesn't spare him a second glance though, but merely puts the half-thawed vegetables back in the freezer and walks off with a half-hearted “night” to his two younger brothers.

Well, fuck you too.

Mickey can feel Liam's eyes on him, but for once the kid keeps his mouth shut.

Smart kid.

Mickey takes his time emptying the glass. Takes the time to fill it up again and empty it once more too, while pointedly not listening to a single word Carl is saying about the fucking arrest he made.

Then it's getting late and there's nothing for it and he's sick and tired of them not being fine anyway, so fuck it.

He leaves the glass on the table for Carl to tidy away.

In their room Ian's sitting on the bed with his back towards the wall and a book in his lap. He looks up when Mickey enters, but doesn't say anything and promptly turns his attention back to his paperback. His jaw is set, but his shoulders slumped. Angry still, then - but tired even more than angry. Defeated, maybe.

Mickey fucking hates to see it.

He busies himself by the drawers, aimlessly rifling through the socks for something to do with his hands. “So. Quit your job?”

There's a brief pause, as if Ian's trying to determine whether Mickey's trying to start something again, and whether or not to strike first with a snarky reply. In the end he settles for a soft exhalation and, “Yep. Tried to make me to work for free through my lunch break.”

He'd told Mickey as much already, at the Alibi. Hadn't gone so good, so this time Mickey tries for a different response: “Fuck 'em. We'll be fine 'til you find something else. Too good for that fucking place anyway.”

Another pause, long enough that Mickey turns from his fumbling with the socks to look at his husband. Ian's staring down at his book, mouth opening and closing a few times, like he's on the edge of saying something but then thinks better of it.

“Yeah,” he mutters at long last. “Don't know that I am anymore. Bipolar ex-convict in the worst economy in fucking lifetime? Not seeing a lot of options for me here.” Before Mickey has time to think of an appropriate response to that Ian's eyes darts to his face; darts away just as quickly. “Manager called me a little bitch.”

Oh. Okay. Yeah. Fuck.

Moving over to the bed, Mickey sits down on the edge of it. “That manager's a fucking idiot. The hell does he know? That's bullshit.”

Ian lifts his head at that, looking at Mickey with something that might be hope tempered with wary skepticism, and a hint of challenge. “Really?”

Mickey meets his gaze without flinching; holds it for a moment. “Yeah, man. Bet that asshole knew you could break him in half without breaking a sweat, that's why he's spouting stupid fucking stupid shit like that.”

A beat, to let that sink in, and then Mickey allows his lips curl into a grin, pulling his legs up on the bed to crawl over to Ian and crowd him: “'Cause you know you're the toughest motherfucker on the South Side, so big and so strong and so manly.” He reaches out to squeeze Ian's left bicep for emphasis.

“You're a dick.” But Ian doesn't pull away and he's starting to smile, as Mickey hoped he would; it's in his eyes first, softening and a glimmer, and then it's on his lips, growing wider.

Mickey feels his own grin grow wider too, as something in his chest loosens and lets up.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrows suggestively raised as he, ignoring the dull protest of his aching ribs, leans in to let his lips brush over Ian's in a not-quite-a-kiss. “Whatcha gonna do about it, huh? Gonna bend me over and pound me so hard I fucking scream? Gonna make me beg for your... your big, fat cock?”

Ian tilts his head to the side, brow furrowed in faux affront. “You calling my dick fat?”

“Think I've got the right to, Tim Kruger, I've choked on it enough times.”

A snort of surprised laughter and then Ian's hand is on the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss that is hard and hungry and coming home. Mickey shifts to straddle his thighs, their lips never parting, and fuck, it's just been a few days but it's been too fucking long.

It goes on for some time; Ian's arms around him, fingers scratching against his scalp; Mickey's hands running up and down Ian's sides, as they kiss and they kiss and they kiss.

At long last, with a long sigh, Ian pulls back a little, his eyes searching Mickey's as he runs a thumb over his cheek.

“You want me to do that?” he asks after a moment, and there's just the faintest note of uncertainty in his voice.

Mickey doesn't like it. He doesn't want Ian to be uncertain about him, about them, ever. But he bites down on the urge to bristle. Takes a deep breath. “Do what?”

“Bend you over.” A tentative, lopsided smile. “Make you beg”

Ah. “Ain't never said no to that shit before, Gallagher.” How the hell is that even a question? Okay, there'd been this morning, kind of, and maybe a few times when they just started fucking and he had issues and things got a little too intense or whatever, and he's not so much for the actual begging, but in general, Mickey's never been opposed to Ian getting a little – or a lot – decisive with him.

Least not as long as he doesn't make him feel lesser than for liking it that way.

“Mm.” Ian nods, but he doesn't lean back in to resume the kiss. Instead he reaches out to run his hand over Mickey's thigh, idly, and with a pensive look on his face.

Mickey very, very badly wants to tell him that now that that's cleared up maybe you could get on with it but he's determined not to be (too much of) an asshole tonight; to be patient. He waits, and eventually Ian looks up. The uncertainty has seemingly fled; the look in his green eyes is calm once more, and direct:

“So just to be clear: you're not exclusively a top now?”

“What? Hell no.” Mickey makes a face, genuinely taken aback by the notion, but then he shrugs. “Doesn't mean I'd mind switching it up once in a while, though. We've tried all kinds of new shit after we got married, figured it might be fun to try that too.” He pauses, chewing his lip. “Thought you'd be cool with it.”

Ian smiles, reaching out to give a playful little tug to Mickey's hair. “Give me some warning next time and I will be.” Abruptly, his smile turns devilish. “After all, how could I resist such a stunning embodiment of pure masculine prowess?”

Mickey's eyes widen. Oh. Uh-huh. All right then.

“I dunno,” he says, pushing hard for feigned thoughfulness even as he pushes his ass down on Ian's groin, wiggling just a little. “Seems like six pack-packing, strong-willed, stoic soldier boy like you could resist just about anything.”

Ian's quiet laugher is cut short by a sharp intake of breath as Mickey leans in to nip at his ear. “Even a – ah – man-swole hardass?”

“Yeah, 'cause you're such a top dog alpha male.“

“Ultra super power bottom.“

“Fierce and ruthless devastator of assholes.”

“Yeah, asshole is right... Ow! Okay, you're going down … you big manly boss man.“

---

If there is a moment, quite some time later, when they're both happy and spent and relaxing in each other's arms –

If there is a moment, when Ian's eyes stray to the bruises on on Mickey's side, and if he reaches out to let his fingers brush over them in the whisper of a touch, if a shadow passes over his face –

Mickey will catch his hand and bring it up to his lips to press a quick kiss to it.

“Looks worse than it is,” he will say and Ian's lips will twist, in rueful smile or grimace or both:

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Bastard who jumped me hits like a fucking - “ Mickey will break off and make a disgusted face. “Hits like a... a... a fucking weak person. Jesus Christ. Fucking V.”

Ian will chuckle. A bit weakly, perhaps, still a little lost to the lingering memories of the afternoon, but he will chuckle. Will pull Mickey closer to him, carefully; push his nose to his hair and breathe him in. “I love you.”

And Mickey will smile. “Mm. I know. Love you, too.”

---

A/N: Listen, I don't begrudge anyone engaging in bad dirty talk if that's what gets them going, but I didn't really expect it for Ian and Mickey. I guess this is my attempt to wed what we saw in mid-credits scene to my already established perception of the characters. Oh, and I have a kink for understated reconciliation so there was no way in hell I wouldn't jump on this. XD That also means I want to read ALL THE FIC written on this topic, so if you write/see any, please let me know?

Tim Kruger is a gay porn star with a huge dick, btw. I know this because I googled "gay porn star huge dick". I have some regrets.

#11x03 #shameless spoilers #gallavich #ficlet #my stuff

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

Text

Melting Ice and Warmth and Words

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Teba x Saki, 8505 Words

I made this fic for @zzariyo for my server’s gift exchange event! Hope you enjoy, I had a lot of fun with it :3

In which Harth is the gay best friend(TM), Teba is a god damn fool, and I become a lesbian for Saki. Also this was slightly based on a post about how Saki threatens Teba with a sword.

This is the tumblr version but check it out on AO3 if you prefer

- - - - - - - - - -

"Historians probably hate you," Harth mumbled, as he tested the weight of his bow. "This is, what, the third time you've stolen priceless artifacts?"

Teba continued flipping through the pages. The sound of rustling parchment melded with the crackling fire behind him. A soothing mix of leather and pine aromas filled the Flight Range.

"It's not stealing if no one knows it exists," Teba countered, not bothering to look up.

"Yet."

He shrugged. "Yet."

Another sigh filled the air, and the two of them went back to their respective preparations. Harth set down his Swallow Bow and went to fill up two sets of quivers, while Teba continued poring through the personal history of a dead Champion.

It had been a day or two since he had found yet another artifact from a century ago. The depths of the Flight Range, and the expanse of the not-so-well-kept records in the library hid all too many secrets, to which Teba had taken full advantage.

This journal was worn, cracked smoky leather showing its fragile age. Although in comparison to its two predecessors—Revali's Diary and The Great Revali's Diary respectively—this journal was in much better condition. Other than by the contents of the pages itself, Teba had discovered you could decipher the chronological order of the diaries based on how sophisticated the titles were. The more extravagant ones being more recent, that is.

The warrior let out a huff after perusing through another paragraph of dark, cursive writing. He continued digging through the pages with an aura of frustration. Harth, ever one to press his buttons, glanced back.

"So if you don't plan to inform everyone else about your latest finding, yet, what exactly are you doing with it now?"

Another turn of the page. "The same thing I've done before. Searching for clues."

A smirk formed on Harth's face. "Hm. You know these days it's hard for you to read a cookbook properly without help."

"Shut up will you, I'm trying to focus."

A shrug, and then a beat of silence; the two of them basked for a moment in the piercing wind that cut through the Flight Range. The flickering shadows cast by the fire only served to add to the almost haunting beauty that tonight brought. The chilling midnight moon was a barely distinguishable sliver, white against white in the brewing storm. Teba could only long for the soft hammock of his home. Although, it's not like he would be relaxing anyway.

Nearly all hours of the day, if he wasn't practicing with his bow, he was poring through a damn book. It definitely wasn't out of a passion for reading, but more of a desire to spite his superiors.

Elder Kaneli had yakked his beak off about how the "bow of Champion Revali is our last physical connection to our valuable history" and thus was not to be taken out of its chest, ever. So there went Teba's dreams of dissecting it and constructing a masterful bow of his own.

Kaneli had said that a "young Rito like yourself shouldn't spend so much time out in the cold." So there went Teba's desire to devote himself to archery, shackled by the Flight Range's new "curfew," which was essentially a bedtime.

And, years ago, after a teenage Teba had found the very first diary of the Rito Champion, showing it off to the respected elder as quick as he could, Kaneli had beamed in his rocking chair and said, "Oh hoo! We shall get to storing it immediately!" So there went Teba's achievement, gathering dust in a box for a good three weeks before he had just decided to start sneaking into the records at night to pore through it. "Preserve the paper's integrity" his ass, he knew the librarian just hated him for that time his makeshift bomb arrow had caused her tail feathers to smell burnt for a month.

At nearly every turn, there was always something that hindered Teba's progress towards getting clues about how to master Revali's Gale. If that wasn't enough, Kaneli had been nagging him more and more lately about settling down and relaxing. Just a few years ago, Kaneli had been all about training him to be a mighty warrior, but nowadays the elder just couldn't seem to shut up about "exploring new pastimes!"

So here he was, with his new pastime. Reading, like the thrilling warrior he was.

Teba rolled his eyes after skimming through another paragraph. He hurriedly turned through a few more pages, the rustling parchment catching Harth's eye once again.

"So how's the research going? Is it just brimming with inspiring details about how to command the wind?"

Teba chuckled, although there was clear bitterness in the tone. He held up and flipped the journal around, so that Harth could read the contents written within.

"You tell me..."

~The Eighth of Nayru's Moon~

Once again, that little knight has failed to so much as acknowledge my presence. He probably wouldn't know charisma and impeccable skill if it was shoved right into his perfect face— and goddess believe me, I have tried as such.

Just today, I was— formerly assumed alone— at the Flight Range, practicing my Gale, when from the corner of my eye I saw him watching me. His face, an unfortunate yet predictable bland block of carving wood. Even after witnessing my masterful abilities? HA! His dead gaze borders on blindness.

To think, the King is looking to appoint him as the princess' personal guard. I should think someone as unperceptive as he would do better as a cleaning maid. Forget the quick instincts of battle, I'm sure he'd be dead in an instant. He just blankly looks and looks, and stares and stares. All he ever does is stare at me, unassuming... with those striking blue eyes of his.

Too striking. Distracting even. If he dares show his stupid, atrociously awful face at my Flight Range again, I might just have to nip his poorly drawn bowstring myself. Followed by a legendary duel to the death, of course.

Then again, if he for some reason stops by tomorrow, I wouldn't mind that much.

Harth leaned back and gave Teba a smirk. "So, that's a no on the Gale research then?"

Teba let out another huff, snapping the book closed and getting on his feet. "Nothing but boy troubles in this one. He has to have kept more entries out there that could actually be useful to me."

Fiddling with an arrow shaft in one wing, Harth went back to filling the quivers. He let out a laugh. "Ah, I'm sure it's not all useless! At least now you know you're not the only Rito in history who's terrible at flirting."

A scoff. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"That was literally about as straightforward as I could have been with this topic."

"Well do me straighter."

Harth proceeded to have a coughing fit for five minutes.

The sounds of wheezing laughter and less than polite comments from Teba echoed through the Flight Range.

"Hylia, I may not be looking for a wife, but I hope one day I adopt or something just so I can tell my grandkids how much of an idiot you are," Harth finally said, at the end of their colorful banter. "But yes, thank you for proving my point. A Boko skull has a better grasp on charisma than you."

The warrior crossed his wings over his chest, looking away. "Well sorry that I've been focusing on my strengths rather than dabbling in immaturities."

"Remember when you were in the infirmary and you tried to tell that nurse, Saki," he snorted, "You tried to tell her she had nice posture–"

"Shut it. Shut it and quit your grinning before I shove you into the fire and use the arrows as kindling."

Another laugh echoes, and the most Teba can do is narrow his eyes. But after a beat, he perks up and looks back in his direction. "How do you know her name?"

Harth raised an eyebrow. "Saki? Well I don't know, she treated me during that Ice Talus accident a month back. I probably just asked for her name at some point, you know, like a normal person." He shook his head. "Spirits above, Teba, you've probably been in that infirmary more than I have. Have you really not gained the social skills to ask for someone's name?"

He stared at the very interesting and engaging wooden floor, shifting his weight between his legs. "I don't have to answer that."

"Oh, woe is you. Kaneli never gave you a pep talk about how to make friends?"

"HA! I think our conversational topics peaked in the days where he actually encouraged my archery training. Less 'pep talk,' more 'lecture,' nowadays."

"Alright, alright, save your daddy problems for breakfast, Teba."

Teba glowered much in the way a Lynel would to its soon-to-be-dead prey, feeding Harth's amusement.

"Anyhow, you needn't go so hard on the guy, he just doesn't want you to kill yourself, which is especially relevant tonight." He turned around and picked up the now fully stocked quivers. "Now that you've finally managed to tug your beak out of that book," he tossed one to the huffy bird, "Let's go slay some monsters."

Teba's earlier expression morphed into stern concentration, emotion dripping away in favour of a practiced warrior's focus. He grasped one of the arrows and inspected the tip. "Fire arrows? Wouldn't bomb arrows be more effective on monsters?" The night seemed to turn colder to match his more serious tone.

The charcoal feathered Rito slung his bow and quiver onto his back, speaking quickly as he worked. "Not necessarily. We want as much vision as we can, can't risk getting blind-sided by even one of its attacks. Explosions would give even more cover to an already invisible foe." He also mumbled something about how he barely had the income to afford them.

There was a moment of silence as Teba calculated and turned over Harth's words, before putting the pieces together. He gave a confident nod as confirmation.

"So… have you ever slain a Wizzrobe before?" Harth asked.

The warrior smirked to himself, turning towards the exit with bow and quiver. White against white as he stood on the snow covered landing.

"Not yet."

- - - - -

Thunderous sounds in a frozen tundra; it came after the ripple of footsteps.

Jaded peaks weathered grey, the sky couldn’t be distinguished from the land. The snow had pounded harder and harder as they flew, flurries coating the feathered fletchings on their arrows.

Harth landed first, walking around on the open, frigid expanse. Teba did a sweep of the surroundings from the air. Nothing.

The base of the Hebra Mountain Trail— just under the shadow of the South Summit— this was where the last attack was. Hopefully it was where the final one was too.

There had been three travelers total; two Rito, one Hylian merchant. Minor injuries. Most all ran away at the first sign of frostbite. It was normal for the occasional monster attack to come up every now and again, and it just wouldn’t be worth the resources to hunt down every Lizalfos and Bokoblin that happened upon some unfortunate soul. By the time anyone lives to tell the tale, the beast has probably already moved miles from where it was last seen. The Hebra wasn’t exactly the most accommodating of places to enjoy long term.

And so that was the excuse. Save the supplies for bigger threats. An Ice Talus, Hinox… Hylia forbid a Lynel. A Wizzrobe would probably be off dancing in the sunset by now, and thus, no warriors should waste supplies looking for an “unnecessary fight."

Teba remembered scoffing when he heard the news— a scoff apparently so spiteful, that it had earned him a rare glare from Kaneli.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Teba. You won’t be recklessly going off alone to find it, understand? I mean it!”

Teba perched on one of the cliffs, getting a clear view of Harth below, surrounded by white on white on white. Harth turned his head and gave a thumbs up in his direction.

Well, that was one half of the instructions followed. The “stupid” part is still up in the air, though.

Teba unslung his Falcon Bow from his back, resting a fire arrow on the bowstring’s serving. If someone were to look up at where he crouched, they would be greeted by a piercing golden gaze; a pair of cold suns that sent you shivering.

That was the intent, anyhow. A warrior with a gaze like fire. Like lightning, like metal, like suns, like steel. That’s what he’d been told in the past, so he might as well use it to his advantage.

Still… he remembered once how someone had compared them to honey.

“What?” He had been taken aback by the sudden observation.

“Or like butterscotch… I use it a lot when baking. Oh! I’ve seen gorgeous dandelions like it too.” The nurse—“Saki?” Did Harth say?—tended to the wound just below his eye. “You should be thankful the color is so pleasant, the sight is probably what caused that Moblin to miss its mark!” Saki smiled and for the first time, Teba understood what it meant to call something “the sun.”

“Make sure you don’t use those eyes of yours to go looking for more trouble. Or else…” She had narrowed her eyes playfully. Noticing him just staring at her in silence, she cocked her head to the side, curious.

“Sorry, was there something you wanted to say to me?”

Yeah, but I’m not sure what. All he could really notice at that moment was how relaxed her posture was around him. Usually, he was surrounded by his fellow rigid warriors, or the stance of someone that looked in his eyes and saw fire. So…she was a nice change of pace.

Too bad his communication skills could be trumped by a deflated octoballon. Teba's sigh manifested into a small white puff in the cold air. Nevermind that now.

He had to stay focused. Teba would cut no corners when it came to using Harth as bait. However, he couldn’t deny the somewhat pissy mood he was in. No Gale, no practice, no clues, no fights. Sooner or later the village might just strap him into a rocking chair and say it was for the best. What a joke… At least killing off a dangerous creature would help let off some steam— ice? Magic ice…water…arrows… fuck.

Teba rolled his eyes at his own incompetence. Can’t even be a decent wordsmith in my own head. Harth was right.

A sudden flash of movement and his mind immediately crashed back to reality. Eyes instantly trained back to the ash colored Rito on the ground, who had now turned and aimed his bow at the horizon. Not even a second after the movement was made, Teba had an arrow nocked and aimed in one practiced, fluid motion.

Harth had two arrows nocked, aiming towards an unseen target obscured in the haze of snow.

Black against the pale of midnight’s frigid sheet of snow. If Harth could see something, it would no doubt also see him. He stepped forward, Swallow Bow unwavering in the wind

Teba adjusted the draw of his bow, training its angle to match Harth’s movements and ready to release at a moments notice.

The crunch of talons on snow. A small patch of dead bushes just a few paces in front of Harth.

One step.

Two…

Suddenly, an arctic fox dashed to the right and disappeared into the snow.

A draining silence. Steady, freezing breaths condense into puffs of clouds out of Teba’s beak. There was still a knot of tension in his chest, but he could start to feel it ripple out, like a patter of footsteps as a mix of closed off fear and anxiety walked out the door. Still, he didn’t falter his draw. After a moment, he saw Harth put down his bow and sigh. The Rito turned towards Teba’s direction to give him a smile and a shrug.

Harth met his gaze.

Then, the expression on his face suddenly morphed into shock.

Teba didn’t think twice.

He snapped around and let gravity take him, loosing the already nocked flame. The hiss of fire flew and connected with its target with a satisfying crack! Midfall, he could hear Harth shout a much too late “Behind you!”

The fire arrow hit rock, crumbling stones clash against snow. The burst of flame roared like thunder on the cliffside. Although the creature wasn’t hit, the area of effect was still large enough to singe at the tips of cloth.

A pearly white robe that faded deathly blue. The glow of ice and dark silhouette. A shrill cry escaped from the Wizzrobe that had stood, wand in hand, behind Teba’s perch just seconds ago. Even in distress, it wore a chilling grin.

Bastard. You won’t get another chance.

Another flame nocked and loosed with lightning speed.

The creature laughed, as if in pity, and twirled in its step.

Gone.

Teba gave a flap of his wings to stop his momentum. His talons safely connected with the ground, and Harth was at his side at once.

“Are you alright!? Are you hit?!” Harth started to inspect his wing, but Teba continued staring at the sky, “S-Say something, dammit! Teba we need to—”

He held up a wing, the gesture with an unspoken tone of “shut it.” Teba readied another fire arrow and pointed into the air. He whispered.

“Listen…”

His eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to discern sounds from the muffle of wind. Harth pressed back and covered Teba’s blind spot, nocking an arrow of his own.

The wind was unaccompanied. The dead bushes shuddered a tempo.

And then the midnight sang.

Like the pleasant echo of a music box…a lullaby that seemed to twinkle against the brink of night and day. A ripple of footsteps. A sparkle to his left, skipping like stones, as if the wind was water. There was a faint laugh, but Teba was the one to smile.

Gotcha.

The Wizzrobe had barely manifested before the fire arrow flew. A burst of orange connected with its frail arm, and the creature shrieked. Harth quickly turned and fired his own shot, the arrow nearly lodging into its face, but arching low and hitting its torso instead. The Wizzrobe panicked while the two Rito went to reload.

“Go for the face!” Harth shouted as he went to grab two arrows from his quiver. “It’s the only part that’s not protected by that stupid magic robe!”

As if on cue, the Wizzrobe had started laughing to itself, its arms flailing wildly as the flames that engulfed its person suddenly disappeared. It gripped its Blizzard Rod in both hands, starting to twirl with a sickening grin.

Teba aimed for the sky. “Move!”

Harth shuffled back in obedience as fire soared. The arrow crashed into a giant sphere of ice that hurtled from the heavens, shattering into pieces just a few feet above their head.

The impact caused them both to fly backwards, the bow knocked out of Teba’s grip.

Hmm… fuck.

Teba crashed hard, tasting dirt and snow. Luckily Harth was able to get in position to fire an arrow.

Its arc through the air was cut short by multiple more icy spheres hurtling down around the Wizzrobe.

Harth cursed under his breath. While they were far enough away to avoid the barrage of ice magic that would no doubt freeze them with a single touch, it would be nearly impossible to get close enough for a kill. Teba picked himself up and crouched beside Harth.

“How much fire total?”

Harth shook his head and stared at the ground. “I was so concerned with not arousing suspicion…sneaking out to fight was one thing, but—”

“This is no time for regrets. How many fire arrows, dammit?”

Harth let out a huff. “I bought a bundle of five and split them between us. The last fifteen in each quiver are regular ones. Although at this angle I doubt they would be of any use.”

Teba’s eyes sat calculating for a moment. “So I’ve used two. One hit, one miss. And you—”

“I landed the third just earlier on its torso. The forth…” He turned in the direction of the shower of ice. He could see it smash against the wooden remnants of an arrow. “I used just now.”

Hylia forgive the less than polite words towards the spirits that Teba spoke.

Harth gave a nod towards Teba’s quiver, while handing him his Swallow Bow. “Here. I gave the extra to the best shot around. I’ll distract it while you make the last shot count.”

Teba scoffed. “You and I both know you can’t just adjust to a new bow on the fly and expect to be accur—”

“Well if you’ve got a better plan, I’m more than happy to hear it!”

Teba grimaced. Always life and its impossible instructions.

The warrior slung his quiver in front of him, indeed confirming the last fire arrow nestled between the regular ones. He took the Swallow Bow in hand and gave another glance towards the Wizzrobe.

Its earlier spell had stopped now, and it was now skipping all too happily towards them. The ripples of its chiming steps seemed to glow brighter and brighter as it approached.

Tsk. What a gloat. It’s not even bothering to sneak up on us anymore.

Harth gave a flap of his wings and hovered. “I’ll lure it near the base of the mountain trail, and you flank. Do what you must, it’s all you.” He took to the air and began taunting the Wizzrobe, attracting its attention.

Teba cursed. He harshly slung the quiver back around him while taking up the bow. In the motion, a journal dropped into the snow.

“Crap, the…” He trailed off, observing it for a moment. The words on the page it had opened up on caught his eye.

~The Twentieth of Starset Moon~

I hope a Wizzrobe carries me off before I see him again. I envy their magical ability to disappear from sight at a moment’s notice. Maybe then I wouldn’t embarrass myself so in front of Link.

I've always called my eyes a mere jade. A simple enough descriptive hue, and on occasion it would serve as a masterful segue into a pun about how the best warriors have a gaze that can pierce like stone. But no, he just had to call it, “grass.”

“Actually, I’m fairly certain that the hues of Hyrule’s earthly flora are much lighter than the color of my eyes.” I had said. “Like I previously stated. Jade, or emerald works. Jagged jade if you are akin to alliteration.”

Curse my arrogance as my response only caused him to elaborate. “It’s not just the color” he had said. “It’s like a sensation. I like just looking at fields. To lie in them, and smell, and be in comfort in the grass and outside.” He shrugged like nothing was wrong. “Your eyes give me that comfort.”

Hylia is a cruel goddess to curse us Rito to become round puffballs whenever emotions get the better of us. THANKFULLY, he didn’t notice as he then started to ramble on and on about his—slightly concerning—knowledge about the flammability of plants. How flaming weapons and flint produced different embers. How any fire arrow can become a bomb arrow with enough kindling. How you could tell the flammability of certain flora based on the shade of green. He noted how my own eyes were not the most flammable, so… there’s that compliment, I suppose.

There was a roar in the distance as ice crashed onto the earth. Teba snapped the journal shut again.

The Wizzrobe had cast another spell, a blur of charcoal feathers could be seen dodging the attacks.

Teba stood sifting through his thoughts as quickly as he could. Whatever power above had caused him to stumble upon this entry…he’d have to thank them later when he had the time and the faith.

The idea was obvious in hindsight. If he couldn’t guarantee a shot at a small target, then make the target bigger.

The warrior took the fire arrow in one wing, and the journal in the other. The diary was old and dry, and obviously it had a much bigger surface area than an arrow tip.

So he quickly took the very last fire arrow and pierced it through.

It burst into flames in an instant. It certainly wouldn’t pierce anything, but with the bigger area of impact…combined with a new reckless plan, there wouldn’t be any need to.

He smiled and took towards the air.

“Uhh, Teba???” Harth yelled as he saw his friend approach, flying closer with a flaming book arrow in his beak. “What are you— fuck! Ay! Over here, princess!” Harth tugged at the Wizzrobe’s robe, luring its face towards Teba.

He couldn’t talk with the arrow and piece of flaming historical documentation in his beak, but he cocked his head in such a way to signal to Harth to turn.

“But?! Its face!” A fierce shake of his head in response. “Dammit Teba!”

Harth soared around the creature in a semicircle, avoiding its bursts of ice that make the feathers on his neck puff. The Wizzrobe turned to wave its wand, it’s backside now exposed to Teba.

The warrior quickly unslung his quiver and threw the leather strap around its neck, the weight of the arrows falling on the other side towards its chin.

“TEBA WHAT THE FUCK!?”

The Wizzrobe halted its midair dance, turning in the direction that the new weight had come from. The Blizzard Rod was already starting to glow.

“That’s right!” Teba shouted, as he took the flaming book arrow out of his beak. “Show me that ugly grin of yours!”

He gave one last flap of his wings before letting gravity take him, nocking the arrow on the Swallow Bow. As predicted, he couldn’t fully compensate for the difference in the bow.

Its weight was all different, the string strength was all wrong, the grip was much more loose than he’d have preferred—

Through the haze of snow, and paper, and his own pale feathers, the Wizzrobe’s shining grin greeted Teba in full.

White on white.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Catch!”

The arrow loosed.

The flaming book seemed to soar in slow motion, or perhaps that was just on account of its weight. It arched high, nearly on path to connect with the creatures gleaming teeth, but the strength just wasn’t there and it bowed lower still to the Wizzrobe’s neck.

FWOOSH!

The journal was destroyed on impact, paper glowing and fluttering. The creatures’ attire was set alight, but all it did was laugh like it was an inconvenience. Like a party trick it had already gotten tired off. It started to try and pat itself down, but…

“Let’s see you laugh now, bastard.”

The quiver’s leather wouldn’t catch on its own given its natural resistance. But with the flutter of dried parchment…

All it took was one fiery page, and the arrows caught. The Wizzrobe suddenly suddenly shrieked, but the sound was muffled and cut off by sputtering and the sound of what Teba could only assume was suffocation. The bundle of arrows glowed like a campfire, the flames engulfing the creature's neck and already licking at its face. It attempted to remove the quiver wrapped around it with both arms, tossing the Blizzard Rod into the air in panic, but it was already too late.

The giant necklace of kindling roared in the Wizzrobe’s face, and in seconds, the icy beast was reduced to mist. The wind its grave, as the last of its magical robe rippled in the night.

Teba landed on the ground, eyes bright with unexpected happiness as he cheered.

“WOOOOO! Did you see that!?! I can’t believe that worked holy fucking shit, take THAT asshole.” He shouted into the air with a rare show of relief. THANK YOU Champion Revali and that Hylian knight arsonist! Gods, who knew reading would be so—”

“ROD!”

“Wh—” Teba turned in time to see Harth flapping towards him. But closer still, Teba saw the blur of the Blizzard Rod falling through the air, just seconds away from impacting the ground.

Hmm…

Gravity surely wouldn’t simulate the effects of waving a magic ice wand around, right?

SHING!

Fuck.

A burst of ice exploded from the rod’s impact, Harth slammed into Teba just as he could feel the cold travel to the tips of his wings.

The two Rito crashed into the snow, and Teba was able to taste the delicious flavours of snow, stone, and dirt for the second time. He propped himself up with a wing that was now faintly aching. He had a bit of a coughing fit, as Harth got up.

“Teba…” he trailed off, still in a bit of shock. “Wh…Where the hell’d you get a crazy idea like that from?”

The warrior had the strength to shrug with one shoulder. “New hobby?”

Harth playfully shoved Teba back into the snow as they both laughed.

Teba stared up at the frozen sky. It was already fading blue, the brink of night and day tipping towards a yet unseen sun.

That wasn’t so bad. Just a few arrows, a quiver, a book, and we’ve got justice for our village. If we hurry we can make it back before breakfast and Kaneli’s none the wiser.

Harth stood over him and offered a wing. “Alright, let’s go grab your bow and get out of here. I think I can feel my tail feathers freezing off.”

Teba shivered, reaching out to get up. “Yeah, no kidding. It’s almost like it—GUH!” He crumpled to his knees.

“Teba!” Harth propped up his back as he went to inspect him. He gasped when he saw his wing.

The black feather accents were laced with ice, the very tips of his wing were already starting to become glassy and stiff. Teba held back a yelp as he felt the ice grow further up his wing.

“Oh shitshitshit, that Blizzard Rod still got you.” Harth frantically went to remove a piece of cloth from his armour to wrap it around the ice. “Try to keep that warm. Uh. The mountain lodge is nearby, maybe we can get a blanket? Oh shitshitshit….”

Teba mumbled something incoherent as he felt the ice grow further.

“Guh… We can just keep this incident between us like planned, yeah? Kaneli is gonna be pissed that I blew up his quiver.’”

“Idiot! Get on my back, you could lose a wing!”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I could probably still fly.”

“Your feathers are snapping off, fuckface!”

Harth tried to get Teba to stand, but stopped when he started to hiss in pain. The cold on his left wing was starting to course through his whole body, and he shivered.

“Ok, ok. Maybe it’ll warm up when I get in the air. I’ll just start flapping a lot to keep the blood flowing. That’s how that works, right?”

“At that rate, you’ll not only be brainless, but wingless too.” A sudden voice echoed.

The boys looked up to see a set of pink feathers descend from the air. Harth’s eyes glowed with both immense relief and confusion.

“Thank Hylia, Saki….wait, what are you doing here, I—”

“Shhhhh…” Saki took out a sword, causing further confusion and shock to come to the boys. “All you need to know for now is that I was by the Hebra Trailhead Lodge when I heard a commotion that I can only assume you two fools caused.” She tried to press the blade against the ice on Teba’s wing.

Teba’s eyes darted between Harth and Saki. The feathers nearly everywhere on him but his left wing started to puff up given how close she was. He could smell a mix of nutmeg and warm safflina from her.

“I…uh…” Teba was rapped in the head with the broad side of Saki’s sword. “Ah! Hey—”

“Don’t move, before I decide on amputation.” Both of the warrior’s eyes widened. “Just joking! Ahaha… for now anyway.” Her cute little chuckle echoed in the air.

Saki finally put down the blade. She shook her head, the curls of her hair bouncing above her shoulders. “It’s already too strong to scrape off.” Harth’s head was turning left and right above them, like a child trying to get a peak of the action. Digging through the satchel on her shoulder, Saki took out a few heads of sunshrooms.

“Hold these, we don’t want that ice magic seeping in any further. It can spread to the blood faster than you think.” Teba’s beak was still agape when he obliged.

The pink colored Rito gave him a soft smile as she tucked a wing under his neck. She expertly flipped the Feathered Edge in her wing, so that it’s blunt side was aimed at Teba,

“Now, if your muscles move and contract any more, it’s just gonna cause any of the ice inside there to snap, effectively paralyzing you. We need to make sure there's no chance of that happening.”

Saki leaned down and pressed her head against Teba’s for a moment, planting the Rito equivalent of a peck on the cheek. “Take that as my premature apology.” Saki said. And that was the last thing he heard before he saw the swing of the blade’s hilt and everything went black.

- - - - -

Teba awoke with the sun in his eyes. He blinked, adjusting his gaze before identifying a blur of pink feathers in front of him.

“—and no doubt they’ve discovered you’re missing by now if she hasn’t said anything already. I’d fly back myself to inform the elders, but…” She trailed off, fiddling with the bandage.

“I could do it. You’ve probably already got your plate full with—gah!” A broad side of a Feathered Edge whacked Harth’s head.

“No. You need to keep that cut warm and toasty and uninfected. This bind won’t hold in those strong winds, and we can’t have the Tabantha skies blowing dust and grime into it.” Saki used her blade to cut the excess bandage on Harth’s neck, to which he slightly gulped.

Teba tried to sit up from where he lay. The Hylian style bed creaked under his shifting, and he muttered something about missing hammocks.

Saki suddenly stood, eyes lighting up to see Teba. “Oh good! You’re awake, let’s see how you’re doing.” She rushed to hold his wing, to which his heart immediately jumped into his throat.

“Saki, I—” Teba attempted to be articulate, but was distracted by the tenderness of her touch, and the sudden sweet smell of nutmeg and vanilla in the air.

“Stop moving your wing, Teba.” Saki examined all sides of his wing with a practiced eye. “I made the elixir in time to counter any frostbite, but you should still rest for at least another hour to make sure all the ice inside is truly melted.”

He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You…remember my name?” It had been a few weeks since he had last seen her in the village infirmary. Usually he only saw the older doctors tending to patients.

“Well of course.” Saki cocked her head and gave him a warm smile. “I remember all my stupid patients.”

“Am I included?”

“Yes, Harth.”

“Nice.”

Teba’s eyes widened when she unsheathed her blade again. So much was happening so fast that surely if he wasn’t coddled in bed right now, he’d be snapping bones from the whiplash.

Saki held the metal near his wing. “The ice on your coat has softened by now, so I’ll just scrape it off,” Her blade gleamed with her bright smile. “Stay still!”

The warrior’s eyes continued to flicker between his wing, the blade, Saki, and Harth. Looking out the window, he saw the crisp blue sky glowing above a now serene and pleasant white snowfield.

“I don’t understand. Where…how long have….” He trailed off, but looked back at Saki. “What are you doing here?”

Saki stopped for a moment. “I…” Her shoulders sagged a bit as she paused. “Well…I know the elders said not to engage with the Wizzrobe incident. But…” She fixed her eyes on his wing.

“I’m a part of this village, and I care about its people. Those who are hurt, were hurt, or could be. I don’t like standing by when I could be helping.”

She looked back up and met his gaze. A pleasant blue that greeted the sun. “You understand, right? ‘We risk our lives everyday, might as well use it for something worthwhile.’ That’s the excuse you told me when I first met you.” She brushed a feather under one of his eyes. “Although, you were half unconscious, so I don’t blame you if you forgot. So anyhow! I stayed here in case any travelers came by with wounds or injuries. Keeps my heart at ease rather than just cooping up at home.”

Saki went back to removing the thin bits of ice on his wing, humming to herself. Teba savored the moment for what felt like a century, heart fluttering every time she glanced up to check on him.

Harth finally quipped in, tone playful. “Guess you’ve pretty much got the same mindset as us “fools,” eh, Ms. Saki?” He kicked back in his chair and crossed a leg over his knee. “Birds of a feather….heh.”

Saki snapped her head around to glare at Harth. “Actually,” the tone could cut steel, “The difference here, is that I had the common sense to not go out looking for a fight. I had the basic logic to understand that fighting a monster on its own turf would be reckless and idiotic. I had the brains to gather further supplies than a mere five fire arrows. And I actually had the decency to inform someone of my whereabouts should anything unexpected happen, rather than having the arrogance to think things would always go according to my own plans.”

She sighed again. “I hate to make Amali worry, but I’d rather stay here to look after you two while she informs someone to come pick you both up.”

Harth shut his trap real quick after that, to which Teba would have probably laughed if he wasn’t also scared of the possibility of getting the same treatment from her.

After a few more minutes, Saki finally finished up and patted his wing. Teba mustered enough courage to speak.

“Thank you…for everything.” He tried to prop himself up in the bed. “I can probably fly back in this condition. Kaneli’s probably gonna kill me twice over if I don’t get back soon.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to piss daddy off,” Harth snickered.

“Fuck off, Harth.” Teba and Saki quipped simultaneously. Teba however, was a bit taken aback by how calmly and sweetly she had spoken. The thoughts were knocked out of his brain when Saki rapped his skull with her blade again. “Ow! Would you—”

Saki pointed the blade at his throat. She was so close he was sure she could hear his heartbeat fast…and it wasn’t just from fear.

“Firstly, no. Neither of you boys will be leaving anytime soon so long as I’m here. You will be staying in bed,” she glared at Harth, but kept the blade on Teba, “And you will be keeping your tail feathers glued in that chair.” Saki turned back to Teba with a sweet smile.

“You will be staying here for the next eight hours, not so much as scratching the tiniest itch on that wing. Then, when someone comes here to pick you both up like I discussed, you will keep seeing me for at least another two weeks so I can monitor your injury. And perhaps when that’s all done, I will think about baking you a pie in celebration of your heroic feat tonight.”

She pressed the Feathered Edge a bit closer to his throat. “However, if this turn of events does not come into fruition…let’s say, if for some completely silly reason either of you decided to leave this cabin and fly home, well. I will just have to make sure to give you a reason to stay bedridden for another month. Do I make myself clear, warriors?”

The boys nodded as quickly as they could.

“Wonderful! I’m so glad we’re on the same page!” Saki's smile and tone was so quiet and sweet as she sheathed her blade once more.

Teba could still feel his heart thumping against his chest. There was a pleasant silence as the lodge was filled with the crackling of fire, and the occasional chirp of a morning bird. He stared at the way Saki’s eyes dazzled like a delicate sky.

Saki clicked her tongue. “Oh you poor thing. You’re still freezing aren’t you? Your feathers are all ruffled up.”

On instinct, the feathers on his neck—and pretty much everywhere else over—puffed up. “UH. Oh! Yeah. Cold. Very cold…yes.” He looked away and started coughing. Saki got up to get something by the fireplace, while Harth did his best to hide his snickering. Teba silently mouthed “help me” to Harth, which only further hindered his attempts to hide a laugh.

The pink Rito flashed one last pleasant smile at the two of them as she made her back towards the door. “Alright, I’m just gonna grab the firewood outside so I’ll be back in a moment. You’ll be alright, right? Nothing’s still aching or anything?”

Even muscle in Teba’s body seemed to melt at the way she curiously cocked her head to the side with a smile. The best he could do was mumbled out his thoughts before he had the chance to think them through.

“With you looking at—after me, I think I’ll be fine.”

Saki chuckled and Teba felt a combined feeling of pride and embarrassment. As she closed the door, Harth looked back at him.

“Very smooth. Quite the wordsmith.”

“Shut it, fuckface.”

- - - - -

TWO WEEKS LATER.

“What do you want?”

The doctor grumbled rudely as Teba did his best to not seem like a complete idiot. “Uh…Saki?”

“You want Saki?”

His mind shifted to a daydream. “Yeah…” Whenever her name was mentioned he couldn’t help but smile, but that fell away when he snapped back to reality. “WAIT, I mean— no. I don’t want— I mean not no, I just didn’t mean it like— I just.” Teba grumbled some more. “Where she is. I want where she is, or… need. I don’t want. I’ve never wanted— I just need the location. Her location, currently. Which is not here. Where is she. Please…”

Teba put on his best smile despite the fact that he felt like his body was suddenly on fire. Perhaps that was a habit learned from the Wizzrobe incident.

The doctor shook her head. “Kids and their incoherent rambling— She's coming back from Slippery Falcon last I checked. Baking another Get-Well-Soon fish pie, I assume.”

“Ah, great! That’s fantastic. Yes. Yeah! Great. Thank you so much, Una—”

“Get out already, Teba. This place is for the sick and injured. Not the…” she glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, “awkward, and alive. Both of which are actually quite surprising to see from you…”

He managed to give a weak mix of a scoff and a nervous laugh before promptly leaving.

Descending the many steps of Rito village, Teba’s mind raced with thoughts.

Just gotta not fuck up one conversation. Just a simple question! Just...quick little hang out...thing. Yeah. Yep. I can do that. She’s seen me blabber worse when I’m unconscious, so what’s one sober conversation. I’ve killed things! Why am I even stumbling over a few words? Tsk. Yeah. I’ve seen monsters and beasts and blood and blades, I've got this. This is doable, I can do this.

He suddenly bumped into a pink colored Rito at one of the turns, and she laughed as she fumbled with the honeycomb and butter held in her arms.

“Oh my! Well, good morning, Teba.”

I can’t do this.

“And where are you off to this lovely morning?” Saki tilted her head curiously, to which Teba’s eyes immediately dilated.

“…uh…I…” Was it just him or were her feathers slightly fluffier than usual? “I just wanted to…say hi.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Well.” She gave him a cheerful wave with a free wing, clutching her ingredients close to her chest. “Hi!”

“Y-Yeah. Hi…” Teba just stood there as Saki continued walking up the stairs behind him.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck do something, idiot I don’t have—

“Actually Teba…” Saki suddenly turned back around to face him. He quickly leaned a wing against the railing to seem casual. “If you’re not doing anything right now…do you mind helping me with something?”

Teba felt like he responded just a bit too quick. “Yes! Definitely. I can do that.” He coughed, and held out a wing. “You want me to hold something for you?”

She beamed. “Yes! Come on.” She shifted her baking ingredients in one wing, and used her free wing to hold his. Saki dragged him along as their feathers intertwined. Teba’s soul immediately left the mortal realm and his physical body was left stumbling and sputtering.

“WAIT! I—I DIDN’T MEAN! UH—I MEAN SURE— IF YOU’RE OK—BUT THIS ISN’T—”

“I have something heating up upstairs, so hurry along now.” She spoke quickly, not really having the extra confidence to look him in the eyes. But at this point they could both feel each other’s feathers poof as they held wings.

Carrying a mix of honey, Tabantha wheat, and butter, they both eventually made their way to the public kitchen where a fire was roaring.

Teba started grumbling apologies, but Saki cut him off by shoving a wood spoon and a bowl into his chest.

“Your rebellious nature won’t apply to cookbooks, yes?”

And with that, they got to it. Teba’s mind was still processing the events of fifteen minutes ago so while he stared blankly at Saki, he struggled to do the basic task of mixing.

“Here,” she held his wing and adjusted his grip on the spoon. If she wasn’t a pink Rito she might have blushed. “Try not to fling the batter out the window.”

They both started to gain just a bit more confidence as they continued working. Teba started to tease Saki a bit as he held the bowl with the salmon filling above her.

“What’s one little taste? It’s all gonna be eaten at the end, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare, it’s still raw!”

“Just one little dip.”

“If you stick one dirty little feather in that bowl I swear I’ll—”

Teba continued trying to dance around her, but she eventually got it back after a quick whack in the head with a spoon.

The morning flew above them, and the shades of a blue day were laced with clouds of white. The shadows of the hut spun across the floor like a spell. Eventually, the aroma of savoury fish with hints of butter filled the air. Teba grabbed a fork.

“This Get-Well pie was for me, yeah? So let me just—” Saki slapped his wing.

“Not yet, gosh.” She stole his utensil. “You forgot the most important part!”

Saki pressed the edge of the fork on the plain face of the fish pie, giving the little fishy a simple, honest grin.

“There!”

“That’s a bit creepy.”

“What?! No…it’s cute! A joyful little fish!”

“You know that this is just gonna be decapitated by me, yeah?”

“It’s about the sentiment, Teba. Hush.”

True to his word, Teba used a knife to take the first bite, decapitating the little creature. Stuffing his beak, his eyes immediately lit up. The flaky crust paired perfectly with the soft meat, the taste and texture beyond amazing.

Saki tilted her head, curious. “Well? How is it?”

“Mmmbfhbgm. Myeah. Yum.”

She clapped. “Oh I’m glad! I actually ignored the ratio a bit and put a bit more butter, so it’s good that that worked out.”

“What happened to following the instructions and rules?”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her wings over her chest, playfully. “I don’t know… What happened to that priceless journal from Master Revali that was found to be missing from records a few days ago?”

“Damn. Fair enough, then.”

Saki suddenly gasped. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry I completely forgot about the time. You usually sneak off to practice Master Revali’s techniques by now, don’t you?” She went to grab a napkin. “Here, you can wrap this up and take it to the Flight Range, I didn’t mean to keep you for so—”

Teba went to grab one of her wings. “Hey hey! It’s ok. I’m still supposed to keep off the wing anyway, right?”

Saki scoffed, but didn’t pull away. “Oh, like you’ve been following that…”

“Better late than never?”

“Mhmm…”

Teba finally let go, and they stood in front of each other for a bit. Saki played with the curls of her hair, avoiding his gaze. Teba felt his feathers fluff up again, as he mumbled something.

“Hmm?” She looked up.

“Oh. I…didn’t say anything.”

“Ah, Right.” She looked away.

Fuck.

The warrior struggled to find the right words. In an effort to do anything but stay silent, he went to hold her wing again. Both of their feathers immediately floofed in response.

“S-Sorry. I should have—”

“No, it’s alright.” She kept his grip. “It’s alright.”

They both looked in opposite directions, Teba coughed again while Saki fiddled with her hair. The warrior continued screaming in his own mind, begging for some form of suitable and understandable words to come out of his beak. When he turned to speak, Saki cut him off with a soft smile.

“You know, Teba. You don’t have to say anything.”

His beak opened and closed for a few moments, confused. Finally he settled on his thoughts. “Can I try?”

She nodded. “If you really want to.”

Saki wrapped her wings around his shoulders, looking up at him expectantly. When he looked into her eyes, all he could feel was the embrace of a summer’s wind. It was blue. Cerulean. Perhaps teal, or a comparison of sapphire. There was a romantic simile in the world somewhere that he didn’t bother to find.

This close, he could see her eyes dilate, and count small imperfections on her beak. Teba stood as still as ice, before breathing out a bit in relief. He allowed himself to smile, and held her hips and swayed to some unknown rippling melody. Perhaps for just this moment, he accepted it. His words didn’t matter as his gaze lit up sweet and gold and honey. Finally, as they swayed and danced in warmth, the sun to the sky said,

“You look nice.”

#reblogs appreciated!#Teba: I'm gonna go get justice for my village so that no one else gets hurt!#Also Teba: *nearly dies on multiple occasions*#Teba is just the 'this is fine' meme and i love him for it #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw fanfiction #teba x saki #tebasaki #yes the fried chicken couple #teba #saki #saki botw #harth #harth botw #teba botw #botw gift exchange

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stachmousworld · 4 years

Text

Bucky’s Kitty (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!woman character

Tags: insecurities – squirting and being too “loose” – edging, teasing, blowjob, cockring, no protections, also lots of talking during sex, name calling during sex - slut, whore -, vaginal and anal fingering...

SMUT, HERE WE GO! BUCKLE UP!

Part 1 - Part 3 -

Y/N left the stage quickly. The rest of the dance went by in a blur. She wasn’t really sure if she’d dance well or not, and she didn’t really care.

Bucky. The Winter Soldier. The Mafia Boss. Bucky. Her boyfriend Bucky was the Winter Soldier.

It certainly explained a few of his “quirks”. Why he avoided talking about stripping. And also, why he looked so smug when she raved about the mafia bosses in the city. How embarrassing…

Her entire face grew warm.

She had been swooning and moaning about the Winter Soldier for months. She had even collected some pictures (although blurry) of this man. Her boyfriend, who had a secret identity. And yet, he never made fun of her, nor made any remarks.

She smiled softly. Bucky was really an enigma. She couldn’t reconcile the rumors about the Winter Soldier and her grumpy bear. She knew he had a dark side. There were times where he’d tensed up and scan an entire room before “relaxing.” He’d sit against walls and would never be on the open.

It also explained how everybody knew him. He had his entry everywhere. From the shadiest to the classiest establishment, there was nowhere Bucky couldn’t enter.

She didn’t even try to stay to talk to Cassie, who was goddamn where, and ran straight in her room. Once the door shut, she took a quick breath and gathered her belonging. Once everything packed, she bent to take her shoes off.

She raged when it wouldn’t come off. That’s why she didn’t hear the door open, nor the person come closer to her. The slight touch on her shoulder set her off. She grabbed her gun and spun around, only relaxing when she saw who it was. Bucky. Her entire body sagged. His eyes went from the gun then to her face. He slowly raised his hands high and placed them behind his head.

“My Kitty with a gun?” He half-joked. His pupils were blown and there was no way she could mistake the bulge in his pants.

“You could have knocked,” she groaned, enjoying the brief unproblematic moment between them. She wasn’t really ready to discuss, and it seems that Bucky was thinking the same.

He scrutinized her face and leaned forward, bumping his nose against hers before capturing her lips. The kiss was soft and light.

“Get ready, we’re leaving,” he whispered on her lips.

The journey back to her home was weird. They had talked about everything but why they met in the strip club. She didn’t know if he wanted her to broach the subject or simply didn’t want to spoil the night.

They made their way to her apartment still skirting around the main topic. Bucky grabbed her wrist and brought her palm to his lips.

“You were mesmerizing tonight, kitty.”

“I know,” she replied, petulant.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. His head band fell on his shoulder. She caught it before it reached the floor. His silky black hair moved graciously around his face. He extended his hand, but she pocketed the band.

“Nope, you need to let your hair down, tonight.”

Bucky smirked at the innuendo. She turned around and opened her door. Now alone in the small dark room, she felt giddy. Her secret was out, and Bucky hadn’t run away. Well…he also had a big secret, so it was fair.

She took off her shoes and walked back to Bucky who was standing at the same place.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, leaning for a kiss. It never came. “Kiss me, Buck,” she whined.

“Do it yourself.”

Feeling a little less confident, she cleared her throat.

“You know that I…I don’t how to kiss well,” she admitted, self-conscious. She had already told him that her ex used to belittle her and mock everything she did. To him, her cooking was atrocious even though he used to binge and take a plate to his house.

Her kisses or blowjobs were too sloppy, and she didn’t know how to use her tongue, which still didn’t explain why he never lasted. And let’s not talk about her pussy. He found her too loose and wet, to his liking. He used to make fun of her and tell her that she hadn’t really been a virgin before they met, because there was no way she’d be that loose or wet.

She took a shuddered breath and steadied herself. Bucky kissed her forehead.

“I’m not going to laugh at you, baby girl. The woman I’ve seen dancing with sensuality and confidence could never disappoint me and you know it. And if you don’t know how to do something, I’ll teach you. That’s what a lover is for. The same goes for me, too.”

She scoffed. He could talk. He was perfect in every way.

“I know what you’re thinking and no, I’m in no way perfect.” He brushed her neck with his callous hand and grip it tightly. Her eyes fluttered as her anxiety seeped out of her body. He always knew how to ground her. “You, my kitty, are from another world. I won’t die before witnessing your full potential.”

He unclenched his fingers and massaged the base of her neck.

“Now, kiss me,” he ordered with a growl.

She licked her lips nervously but did as she was told. She leaned forward, eyes shutting tight and pressed her lips slightly against his. He didn’t make any move to deepen the kiss.

“Relax,” he murmured, eyes closed.

She grimaced. How could she relax, she was already on edge. If he laughed…she shook her head to erase these thoughts.

She leaned forward and nibble his lower lip. His breath itched. She took it as an incentive to go deeper. It took her a few trials, but once she relaxed, she grew more confident. Her tongue played with Bucky’s who was still not grabbing her by the waist like he used to.

When he said she had to do it herself, he wasn’t joking.

He groaned when she scratched the behind his neck. She swallowed his moan and pressed against him, slowly grinding on his hardness. She could feel his hands trembling as he tried not to touch her.

She broke the kiss, breathing a little too hard. Her vision was blurry, and she felt too tight for her skin. She wanted to drop to her knees and suck him off or fuck his brain out, but first she needed him out of his clothes.

She kneeled and untied his shoes, then took his socks off. She leaned forward and kissed the top of his feet. The tendon under her lips tensed. She didn’t know where it came from but there was a flow of love pouring out of her. She wanted to make him feel cocooned and loved.

She glanced at Bucky to see his reaction. His face was open and young. Here, was this innocence she had the chance to witness whenever he talked about his childhood or what made him truly happy – besides plums. That was when she knew she’d fallen for him.

Eyes still scrutinizing his face, she unbuckled his belt. There was a myriad of emotions in his now opened dark orbs. A few foreign to her and some more familiar. She basked in the unconditional attention he granted her.

She took his jeans off. Then his jacket and shirt and last his boxer. The intimacy and sensuality of simply undressing her lover excited her as much as their usual banter. She felt so close to him. She was the only one who could witness his barriers fall. His vulnerability was a gift. A precious gift she’d protect with her life.

She slowly led him to her bedroom and pushed him on the bed.

The sight took her breath away. From Bucky’s crown of black hair on her red sating sheets and his pale muscle limbs spread on her bed. She licked her lips and undressed herself.

Her dress and panties were quickly discarded as she walked closer to the bed. She climbed on it and stopped at Bucky’s feet.

She took one foot and massaged the sole with confidence. During college she had taken some classes on self-care. It had opened a brand new world to her simple life. Learning how to massage has been thrilling. To know someone’s body and be able to help them relax, hurt them or even excite them without using an excessive amount of force was true power.

The sole of the feet was composed of so many nerves linked to each part of the body, that you could elicit any kind of reaction by massaging them. And tonight, she wasn’t planning on relaxing Bucky. No. A slow mischievous grin appeared on her face. She will edge him all night long.

His erection, which has flagged, was going back to life. Bucky was cursing under his breath and twitching on the bed. She leaned on her right and retrieve her special object.

A cock ring.

Abandoning the foot, she slid the ring around his cock, jerking him off gently. A small bead of precum appeared on the tip. She resisted with all of her might to not suck him and smeared the drop all over the tip. Bucky jerked upright and groaned.

“Kitty, it is a dangerous game you’re playing,” he hissed as she dug deeper into his sole.

“You said I could do whatever I want.”

Bucky chuckled darkly and laid back. “A girl with a body and a mind like yours…I guess the Universe heard me.”

She kissed the top of his foot and massaged the other foot. It didn’t take long for him to writhe on the bed, cock flushing red and muscles tensed.

She scratched her way through his calf, using the hypersensitivity of his arousal to her own goal, and ascended to the apex of his thighs barely avoiding his cock, then traveled back down to his other leg. She repeated her little circuit patiently, each time getting closed to the base of his dick.

Bucky’s hands were clenched on her silky sheets. If she didn’t have another set, she’d slap his hand away. Satin sheets were quite expensive, and she held dear to her heart these specific ones.

“Fuck, baby girl, why are you being such a tease?” He moaned.

“A tease?” she asked amused. “You think THAT is me being a tease?”

Bucky raised his head and looked at her suspiciously. His eyes grew wider when he realized what she had in store for him. He shook his head vehemently, pleas falling from his red lips. She slowly took a slow, torturous, lick from his balls to the crown of his dick and only stopping where the pinkish tip started. The more she licked him and denied him his sweet release the more his body grew tenser. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of that in the state he was. He was shivering and trembling. His moans had long turned into babbles.

She took pity on her boyfriend and allowed him to take a few breaths and relax. Then she went back to work. One lick after the other until his dick was covered with her saliva.

She stopped again.

Bucky took a big gulf of air, eyes firmly shut. She waited for him to let his guard down. She wanted him raw, on the edge.

It took a few minutes, but he did let go. He unclenched his fingers from the soft fabric and relaxed.

“Now”, she coached herself.

Before he knew it, she gently grabbed his dick and swallowed him all she could fit in her mouth and throat.

The scream he let out was…delectable. She had to physically press her clit to stop herself from climaxing. His voice was so raw and broken, like a man who finally accepted his fate. He was at her mercy.

She bobbed her head enjoying the bittersweet taste of precum. She moaned and swirl her tongue around his tip.

“Kitty!” he cried out as she once again swallowed him whole. His entire back was arched and his hands in rolled into fists next to him. She admired his resistance and strong mind. She knew how much he loved to control her pace and use her as he pleased.

Well, not tonight.

She let go of his dick in a wet pop. She crawled her way to his torso peppering his sweaty chest with feather-like kisses.

He only twitched when she bit his nipple. Maybe a little groan but nothing more. She kept getting higher and stopped in front of his face.

His eyes were blown out. There was more black than grey in his glassy eyes. Even if she was in front of him, he barely registered her. Pleas escaped his mouth.

Already delirious and she hadn’t started.

“How are you Mister Winter Soldier?”

Bucky’s eyes suddenly snapped straight to hers. She didn’t know why she said his mafia name, but she’d do it again only to see his reaction. He inhaled sharply and his entire demeanor changed. His then tensed body was now relaxed and although his eyes were black, there was a coldness to them that said that he was capable of beating the shit out of everyone.

There was something indescribable with how she felt right now. This man was in her bed. Boneless. Compliant.

If he wanted, he could do whatever he wanted with her. Fuck her 6 ways to Sunday and she’d beg for more.

“Go on, Kitty. I know you are not done,” he whispered with his raspy voice. A little knowing smile played on his lips.

She grabbed his dick and sunk on it with no preambule. Or at least she tried. She bounced slowly on his dick but struggled to get the angle right. She groaned as she felt more uncomfortable.

“Gosh, whether my pussy is broken, or you are way bigger than I thought.”

Bucky barked a short laugh. “I didn’t lie last time.”

“I thought you lied. My ex also lied about that…” She stopped talking, completely embarrassed and buried her head into Bucky’s chest. “Fuck, I’m sorry to talk about my ex.”

Bucky, for the first time of the night, touched her. He caressed her back and kissed the top of her head.

“You see how hard I am. There is no problem. Unless you want to talk about it,” he offered softly.

She shook her head, still avoiding looking at him.

“I want to hear your sweet voice, Baby Girl.”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it…”

“But?”

The demons in her head were hard to forget and push away. Before she could think, the words slipped out of her mouth.

“Don’t you think I’m too wet?” she asked with a tiny voice.

Contrary to what she expected, Bucky didn’t reply nor laughed at her stupid insecurity. She raised her head and was confronted dark eyes. She shrunk under the intense gaze.

“If you weren’t wet, I would be worried,” he replied, one eyebrow raised.

“That’s not what I mean,” she whined, head still hidden on his chest.

Bucky embraced her and rolled them over, until he was caging her with his arms.

“What do you mean, then?” he asked patiently.

His hips were still against hers. His dick was inside her and the stretch was getting a little too torturous. If he just moved a little bit, he’d be able to press on her spot. God…he didn’t even know how difficult it was getting for her to concentrate. Her entire mind was focus on his dick. She tried hard to not think about it…to avoid thinking about what could happen…what usually happened at the end.

She only hoped she wouldn’t squirt. God, no. She closed her eyes and pressed her palms against them. The last time had been horrifying enough, she wasn’t sure her heart would handle it if Bucky was disgusted by her.

“Baby Girl, what is it?” There was a hit of worry in his voice. “Do you want to stop? Say the word and we’ll cuddle for the night.”

She struggled to find the proper words. Bucky took her silence as a yes and started moving out. She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist and held him close.

“I don’t want you to be disgusted and leave me,” she said with a tiny voice.

Bucky pushed her hands away from her eyes and gazed into her eyes. Concern clouded his dark orbs and his mouth was set in a painful rictus.

“Why? Why would I be disgusted? Why would I leave you?”

She wanted to shrug and drop the subject. But there was no way Bucky wouldn’t questioned her until he got his answer. The thought brought some ill-timed pictures. Unwillingly, her pussy throbbed as a few images flashed through her mind.

She imagined his callous hands spanking her cheeks, leaving their mark. He’d tease her for hours, methodically pushing her to the edge, manipulating her body like an instrument he’d know too well.

“Kitty…” He warned her. “Don’t try to make me cum before we cleared this out…or you’ll regret it.”

She shivered at the prospect of the what if. A sharp pain cleared her thoughts. Bucky was squeezing her left nipple. She hissed.

“It hurts…” she complained, pouting.

“That’s exactly why your pussy is leaking right now.” He said, sarcastically. He released her nipple and licked the tender bead. She immediately pressed against him, moaning as more of his dick entered her. Bucky buckled pressing into her.

She let out a silent scream as the larger part of his dick slid in, snugged tightly. Every breath she took, every time she moved, she could feel him. He was so deep and…

“Bucky…” she whined, trying to make him move.

He released her nipple in a wet pop.

“Nope, you gotta to answer me, first and I’ll move.”

“Bucky!” she cried out eyes full of tears.

“Nope, Baby girl.”

She racked her brain to focus on the answer, which would come. The only thing her brain could focus on his Bucky’s pulsating dick in her.

“If you don’t talk, I’ll move out.”

She bit back a cry and forced herself with every inch of desperation to concentrate.

“My ex…” She swallowed and huffed when the rest of the sentence died even in her mind. What did she want to say, again? She closed her eyes firmly. “My ex used to make fun of me because I’m too wet and…and…I squirt.”

“You what?” He yelped, incredulous.

She froze mortified. Oh my God, he is going to leave me, she thought hysterically. The entire situation was a nightmare. Who had this kind of discussion in bed with their partner? Why was that always her?

She felt him thrust out and tears started pooling in her eyes. That’s it, he is going to leave…

She moaned surprised when he thrusted back in. He gently worked himself in and out. She opened her eyes and stared into his. Why? She mouthed. His eyes shone with joy and

“There is really a God up there because you are straight from my dreams.”

She didn’t know how to react nor take what he said. Her emotions were on a rollercoaster and she almost too taken aback to realize what he implied.

He leaned thrusting deep into her. She moaned through her half open mouth. Bucky kissed her, swallowing her moans.

The drag of his dick on her sweet spot and the warm body caging her, got her to new heights. Pleasure ran through each nerve of her body.

“God, you feel…” his hips met her in a squelching noise. “You are so wet…so good to me…”

She basked in the comments and finally let her tears down. She felt so loved and protected…She moaned his name, scratching his back as he went faster. The muscles under her hands tensed.

“I’m going to make you come first…” he whispered to himself. “…have to…”

He accelerated. He pounded into her, beating her spot with precision. She gasped, twitched trying to close her legs as the pressure grew under her clit. She tried to warn him that she’ll make a mess…that it was gross but…

“Let go…I know you want to come…” He growled above her. He slapped her clit a few times. And she came. The first spurt surprised her. She tried to hide behind her hands, but Bucky didn’t care. He slid out.

“I’m so sorry Buck…” she half cried-moaned as pleasure overtook her body. Her apologies died when she felt his hot mouth on her pussy. She jerked upright and fell back at the ungodly sight.

Bucky was drinking her…her walls spasmed. God, it shouldn’t feel that good.

“It’s gross…Bucky,” she moaned.

The slurping sound doubled. His tongue circled her clit. She went limp as her plunged two fingers into her. He automatically found her sweet spot and massaged it.

Her toes curled and she screamed his name as she came for the second time.

She almost blacked out. Pleasure turned to a more painful side, but she felt so empty. She wanted him to cum inside her, to make her full of his cum.

“That’s okay baby. I’m here,” he soother her, peppering her body of feather-like kisses.

She shook her head in denial. He kissed her jaw.

“What was that you said earlier? It’s gross?” She scrunched her nose when he kissed her lips. “If it was disgusting do you think I’ll drink it?”

“I’ve seen you eat some more than questionable things,” she complained, half-heartedly.

“True,” he chuckled. “And so do you. Now kiss me.”

“Not that again,” she groaned.

“Kiss me.”

She gave up and pressed her lips against his. Her tongue invade his mouth with no leftover shyness. The lack of nauseous taste surprised her. She sucked the tip of his tongue. He moaned and laid totally onto her, her legs wrapped around his waist. She unconsciously moved against his hardness trying to get him in.

The aftertaste was…normal. There was nothing different from her wetness when she was arousal. She released his mouth softly. Bucky’s head fell in the crook of her neck.

“You were right. It doesn’t taste bad.”

Bucky stayed silent. She nudged him and he mumbled something unintelligibly.

“Bucky!”

“I’m trying to stay conscious. You teased the hell out of me, you cried and admitted to be very much perfect. I’m sure your pussy swallowed more than my dick. Your juices may have satisfied my thirst but your kiss made all of the last braincells disappear.”

“You sound perfectly fine for someone whose braincells are gone,” she noticed, amused.

He opened blearily his eyes.

“Hardy har. Now can I come, or do you have more games in store for me?”

“Should have teased you some more,” she complained, dramatically.

“Yep. You know what you should have done?” he asked huskily, slowly raising upright. He kissed the tip of her nose.

She shook her head. One hand snaking in between their bodies to his dick, he slapped her hole a few times. His hand came back into view with the cockring. He presented the plastic ring to her mouth. She wordlessly opened her mouth and bit it.

“You should have restrained me to the bed…” he pressed the tip on his dick in her hole. “…sat on my face…” he entered her painfully slow. “…rode my face…” she closed her yes and forced herself to keep the cockring in her mouth. “…and squirt all over my face.”

He slammed into her eliciting a muffled scream. Her entire back arched off the bed. He didn’t once let her get used to his big dick nor slowed down.

He pounded her like he knew she’d take it.

“Fuck!” He swore. He slid out, turned her over. Before she could react, he thrusted right back in. Deeper. Her eyes rolled. She drooled all over her pillows, hand fisted tight onto the sheet.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He groaned above her. “Would have fucked you in that strip club… at least make you suck my dick…”

He gripped her hips, forcing her onto her knees. He nudged her legs open and plunged right back in, in a wet noise.

“Fucking whore!” He growled, spanking her cheeks brutally. He spread them open and spat on her twitching butthole. He pressed his thumb slightly in. She vainly complained. “I should have fucked your ass too…Tomorrow you’ll warm my dick...”

She moaned and pushed back against meeting each of his thrusts with eagerness.

He swore under his breath. “Fucking slut…wet my dick so nicely…just for me…”

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “My whore.”

She came untouched. The words replayed in her mind endlessly. Only yours, she thought dozily. Her body tensed but it didn’t slow him down. His thrusts grew shallowed and more violent. She stayed on her knee by the sheer strength of her mind and the pressure of his hands on her hips. She’d bruise for sure. She moaned happily. He’ll leave a mark on her.

“Such a good slut for me…make me wanna come ‘gain and I still didn’t you breed you.”

His groans turned into loud moans. His hips stuttered then finally came to and halt. She felt warmth coating her wall and her pussy spasmed vas a valiant effort to come again.

“Yes…” he hissed. “Massage my dick, Kitty, you were born to do it.”

She contracted her sore walls. He finally stopped and fell on her back.

His dick still spurted his cum into her. He embraced her pulling her closer.

“Always have a big load…” he explained, nuzzled on her back. “…be so full of me, like a good girl.”

She keened at the compliment and closed her eyes.

“Yours,” she whispered.

“Mine. I’ll kill everyone who dares touch you.”

“M’ too.”

Bucky chuckled. “I know. My Kitty is deadly.”

Part 3

#mafia au #mafia boss #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes × black!reader #stripper!reader #massage #plus size y/n #bucky barnes x plus size reader #Bucky's kitty #stachmouworld

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pearl-star · 3 years

Text

Disappearing Act

Lila had done it and gotten everyone to turn on the bluenette. The class sneered and yelled at the girl, cursing her out and telling her to get lost. If only they realized that the girl would take their words to heart.

“How could you hurt her!”

Deep breathes.

“Are you really so shallow?”

Must stay calm.

“There’s no way I can be friends with a bitch like you.”

Don’t get akumatized.

“Maybe you should just leave for good. Save us from having to see someone as heartless as you ever again.”

Marinette rocked herself, arms latched around her knees, trying to block out the voices. It had happened so fast, she was still processing it. Within a week of her return, Lila had done well with her threats. Everyone who once loved the bluentte now loathed her. Her friends. Her teachers. Her parents. And even Adrien, who once stood by her side now stayed with Lila. False promises of getting him more freedom. False hopes of overall class peace. False love. Tikki was outside of the building, purifying any akumas that got sent her way. As Ladybug, she couldn’t let her self get akumatized. Of course, trying to push this aside had only caused a higher panic attack, and Tikki decided it was worth the risk of exposing her identity to let her have a few minutes of peace.

The other kwamis comforted their guardian. Trixx and Wayzz were silent, in disbelief and horror that their temporary holders could do such awful things to the girl. Tikki, on the other hand, wanted to have a moment with Adrien to slap some common sense into him. Plagg flew over to Marinette’s house and spoke to Tikki. “Kid’s officially lost all hope. Spots needs to take away his miraculous and now. He is planning to do work as Chat Noir to help Lila. He is still deciding if he should also expose himself to her.” Tikki was horrified. Adrien was a dumb, sheltered kid. However, he should know that secret identities were meant to be a secret. “I’ll tell Marinette the news. Just, give her a few more minutes.” The two kwamis sat in silence. Tikki did a growl as another purple butterfly approached. “Serious! Does Hawkmoth have nothing better to do? Like how tired is Nooroo at this point?” Tikki grumbled as she grabbed ahold of the akuma and purified it. She flew over to a plate of cookies and angrily bit into one.

After ten minutes and no approaching butterflies, Tikki and Plagg phrased into the room. Marinette had calmed down a great deal, and was working on tearing up every photo she had with her old ‘friends.’ Tikki and Plagg exchanged a look before approaching her. “Let me guess, Chat Noir has left me too.” It was a statement. One that Marinette had just assumed would happen. Plagg paused before nodding. “You need to take the ring away from him and stat.” Marinette sighed as she spun around her room, like she was in a daze. “I’m done here too. Let me pack up some stuff and then I’ll meet up with… him. I don’t want to come back here afterwards.” “I’ll have him meet you at the usual meeting spot in an hour.” Plagg promised as he flew off. Tikki had only growing concern for her chosen one. “Marinette?” Marinette turned to face her kwami. Her eyes were red from her tears and were dueled. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were still the ones from today. Ripped and stained from when the class attacked her. Marinette even spotted a few scratches on her body as well as a faint mark on her face from when Alya slapped her.

“I’m fine. I’ve realized that I am no longer welcomed here, yet I am still needed. I will just have to adjust myself for that.” The girl began to move around her room, grabbing two different bags and stuffing them with some essentials. “I am the guardian, and with that comes some… perks. I can go anywhere outside of Paris and still will be able to help defend this place from Hawkmoth. I’ll find some way to survive.” She paused as she let a smile cross her lips. “And I can cry and scream as much as I want without fear of Hawkmoth getting to me. Ah, it will be wonderful Tikki. All day not having to worry about being optimistic when I don’t feel like it. Being able to be angry and sad without fear of Paris’s downfall. I can’t wait!” Marinette’s eyes lit up, and Tikki calmed down. She hated that it had to come to this, but there really was no other choice.

Marinette managed to gather her essentials in the two bags and packed a cooler of food that would suit all the kwamis needs. Then she transformed, keeping the bags on her other form. She took one last look around her room. It was a mess. Her parents had searched around earlier that day, looking for more reasons to hate their daughter. They even went so far as to rip a dress that Marinette was working on. It was going to be for her birthday, but there would have been no point to finish it anyways. She glances over to the trash and notices something hanging over the edge. It was the lucky charm that Adrien had made her for her birthday. She decided to grab it before leaving. She can leave it at his place tonight to let him know that she’s gone for good. Marinette arrived to the usual meeting spot. Chat Noir was already there. He smiled when he spotted her, unaware of everything happening. “Hey bugaboo, so glad we can meet. I need to talk to you about an important issue.” Weighing out the pros and cons, she nodded for him to continue. Perhaps he has gotten some common sense since Plagg had left.

“There’s this school, Collège Françoise Dupont, that is having some issues with this girl. Her name is Marientte.” Marinette controlled her anger, despite wanting to slap him. “That’s enough.” If he was gonna continue off of where her class and parents left off, then he can save his breath. “I’ve heard from your kwami that you plan to help out a girl for private reasons and possibly reveal your identity to her. Explain yourself. Now.” Chat looked taken back. “We’re superheroes. We’re supposed to help people.” “But for petty reasons? And besides, a secret identity is secret for a reason. What if the girl gets akumatized and exposes you to Hawkmoth? You would be targeted in your civilian form and get overwhelmed from trying to fight back.” Chat clenched his jaw. “No. I’m keeping her from getting akumatized. It’s Marinette who keeps getting her akumatized. As long as Lila stays happy then everyone else will be happy.” Marinette realized that Chat was a lost cause, as well as sounding a bit too familiar for her taste. She grabbed his hand and cupped his face, kissing his cheek as she pulled the ring off his finger.

He couldn’t even let out a gasp before his transformation came off. Plagg flew next to her. “My lady?! What are you doing?” She took a deep breath before speaking. “Adrien Agreste. You are no longer worthy of being Chat Noir. You will not tell anyone about the miraculouses and anything else relating back to this superhero identity. It is not a decision I like to make, but I cannot risk Paris falling to Hawkmoth because of your poor judgement.” She placed the ring into her yo-yo and held out the lucky charm he had gifted to her. “The Marinette you speak of is already gone. I noticed her leaving the city and asked her what was wrong. She said that she had been casted off by her family and friends. Swore at and told to get lost forever. I tried to stop her, but it was her decision to make. She requested that I would give this back to you and give you a heads up.” She dropped the charm into his hand and closed it. “I hope whatever you do in the future is better than what you’re doing now. Goodbye, Chat Noir.” Marinette turned and leaped off the rooftop, waiting until she was a mere ten feet off the ground before yo-yoing away. She hid behind a building before calling on Kaalki and teleporting away.

The class hated the bluenette. How could she be so rude to Lila? They never could have guessed how shallow and low that girl could swoop. They had all yelled their heads off earlier that day. Telling her that she should just leave. Of course, they didn’t expect that to actually happen. They assumed a few different things from the girl. First she would step up her atrocious behavior and continue to harm Lila. Another where she ignores them and acts petty. And a third of her coming in and begging for forgiveness. But they wouldn’t give her that. She would have to work much harder to earn back a spot in the class. Even their teacher hated the bluenette. So when the girl didn’t make it to school, they were happy. Currently they were comforting Lila, and ensuring her that the wannbe designer would never harm her again as long as they were with her. They were in such high spirits that they didn’t notice the blond model walk in late. However, Lila did, and she called out to him.

“Adrien! Come and sit with me. Alya can move to sit with her boyfriend today. Wouldn’t that be fun?” The girl hid her smirk the best she could. It took so little time to turn these students against their best bud, it was a new record. All she really wanted to do now is bask in the glory, date Adrien, and gain a following from modeling. Adrien had been on her side this time around, and was quick to push that brat down. She was shocked when she noticed his vacant look. “Hey dude? What happened?” Adrien had bags underneath his eyes. His eyes were red from tears. His body was hunch over as he slowly walked to his regular desk. He dropped into his chair and shakily dropped something from his hand onto the desk. Lila wanted to scoff when she saw it. It was some dumb string of beads. However she controlled her expression, making herself appear worried for the boy. “It’s Marinette… she’s gone. Forever.” Marinette gone? Now this was great news for her. She didn’t have to worry about Marinette ruining her new reputation. Alya laughed. “Servers her right! We don’t need to see that bitch around here anymore. What poor school is getting her?” The class murmured about how happy they were about this news, but Adrien shook his head.

“No.” Although quite, it left an impact and the class stopped. “No? What do you mean?” Rose questioned. “I mean she’s gone forever. No one will see her again.” They decided to not press the model for details, even as tears started to fall down his face once more. Miss Bustier came in to start class but she paid no mind to the students. After all, she stopped caring after everything that has happened. Adrien couldn’t believe everything that had happened. He had sided with Lila after promising Marinette he wouldn’t. He knew that the girl was lying, but decided to stick with her instead. She had some hold over his father, that much he was certain, and if she could help him get more freedom then he wanted to take it. Even if it meant making sacrifices elsewhere. Now he would never see the girl again. One of his first friends he had ever made. The girl who went out of her way for everyone else. The girl who just yesterday had admitted that she liked him before running off and crying from his words. He could never get the memory of her face out of his mind. How her soul seemed to shatter before him. Her eyes filling with tears. Body shaking from her shallow breathes. He should have stopped her. He should have. But ‘should have’ doesn’t do a whole lot now. Now he lost his friend and Plagg. He can never be Chat Noir again.

Marinette’s parents were the next to feel the effect. They had banged on the trap door, demanding that the girl came down to apologize for her before. When they came up to her room and noticed the torn up photos and the balcony trap door opened, they debated calling the police. Debated if they should care enough to find her or to just plan her punishment for when she comes crawling back home. It took three days until they began to worry more. A week after she left the police came to the bakery. Apparently a customer who was fawned of the girl overheard the couple complain about their missing daughter and called the police. They inspected the whole house and filed a missing person report. They also visited to the school. Mr. Damocles and Miss Bustier were fired that day. An investigation started up on exactly what had caused the girl to go missing. Adrien sung like a canary. He would be getting pulled out of school due to his shift in behavior and he decided that now it would be time to admit everything. Well, everything excluding the fact that he was Chat Noir.

He said how Lila threaten and pushed around Marinette. How she lied about her connections and trips. How she got the whole class to turn on her. Every single last thing that the class ever said or did to Marinette was told. A lot of people got in trouble that day. Parents were called, including Lila’s mom who was not thrilled at learning how her daughter had been acting. Cholé was actually the only one who got off relatively scot free, since she had been pushing for her dad to do something about Lila but never bothered to listen. Sabrina was even free since she tried to tel her father about the issues before, but listened to the rest of his class. Alya’s blog got taken down, everyone was grounded and forced to do community service. Lila was expelled and being transferred to a discipline school in Italy so she wouldn’t get akumatized. The students were told that if they got akumatized because they were getting punished for their acts that they would be fined.

Everyone wanted someone to blame because of this. The easiest scapegoat was Lila. After all, she had lied and promised everything to them. It was her fault that this got so far. Adrien slammed his hands down on his desk and looked back to his class once last time. “No.” He stated. “It’s not just Lila’s fault. It’s all our fault too. We shouldn’t have just believed her. And we shouldn’t have just hurt Marinette like that. We became just as bad as Lila made Marinette to be in her stories. We’re no different.” With that Adrien left the school forever. He would probably never go to a physical school again until college. The rest of the students discovered the void that the girl filled weeks later. Whenever they wanted some fresh baked goods. Whenever they wanted a new outfit made or a thing patched up. Whenever they just wanted someone to rant to or laugh with. Their trusted friend, their everyday ladybug was gone.

The real Ladybug was still showing up to battles. Each time alone. It took a few months before Ladybug showed up to a fight. She spoke three words that only a few understood. “Plagg. Tikki, Unify.” She became a stronger force than ever, and Hawkmoth and Mayura came out of hiding for a chance to capture the miraculouses. However, Noirbug was able to defeat them easily. She captured their miraculouses instead, revealing a tired Gabriel and Nathalie behind. She didn’t care less about who they were. Her job was done. When the reporters came after the fact, she informed them that she would be leaving Paris forever. “I was no longer welcomed here but still needed. Now that my job is done, I will finally leave you all in peace. To the people who loathed me. Hated me. Told me to leave. You’re welcome. I’ll finally be able to do just that. Goodbye forever.” With those words she shot off. Away from the confusion of Paris. Away from her past. As Marinette fed the kwamis in her little cabin and watched the news, she felt like laughing. Paris was confused where their hero ran off to. Oh, they would soon realize everything. Even if the rest of Paris won’t, they will. And she truly hopes that they would be happy at her actions. After all, she left just like they wanted.

#miraculous fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #fanfic

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crookswithbooks · 3 years

Text

Unwanted Company

Day Six - Blitzo is lonely and Stolas is horny. Together, they make a wonderful pair.

Christmas in Hell was an interesting affair.

Being a commemoration of the birth of their tormenter, most demons chose to celebrate the holidays by burning Christ memorabilia or getting drunk and cursing his names in the streets. Sometimes both. Others merely ignored the holiday, seeing it as just another winter day, or in other words just another day as winter in Hell was essentially the same as every other season in Hell, i.e. terrible and on fire.

Stolas was an exception to this rule. As a mortal he had loved the holidays, and that love had transferred over into the afterlife. He liked to see it as less of a celebration of Jesus and more a celebration of capitalism and beautiful aesthetics. That was more his style. Unfortunately, the rest of his family did not share his love for the season. He was subjected to another series of lectures by Estelle when she discovered wreaths hung about the house, lectures that involved the catapulting of many an object towards his face, and Octavia merely groaned and left the room whenever he tried to coerce her into a Christmas carol.

Thus Stolas was forced to turn to his one source of comfort when his family decided that even they were fed up with his shenanigans. He twirled the phone wire around his fingertip as he waited for the call to pick up.

“Oh Blitzy~!”

On the other end of the line, Blitzo felt one of his eyes twitch. He was already in a terrible mood and this phone call was the cherry on top of the shit sandwich. As it happened, Blitzo was not a Christmas person. He was happy to take advantage of the season’s marketability for his business, but even that only served to sink his spirits more than they already were. It was depressing to watch the atrocious acts that greed prompted humans to commit.

Now he found himself curled up in his office chair, all alone with not even Moxxie or Millie to keep him company; both of them had taken a day off for the holidays even though Blitzo knew for a fact that neither of them bought into the Christmas spirit either. He had invited Loona to join him but the conversation had lasted for about two seconds before she flipped him off and went to go burn down a building with her friends for anarchical reasons.

He was lonely. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but it was true. So it was just his luck that he was to receive a phone call from the one person he would never choose to spend the holidays with.

“What do you want you piece of shit dicklord?” Blitzo grumbled, slumping down on his desk so that his chin rested in his arms. He was too tired to be genuinely angry at him and so his words were devoid of their usual ferocity.

“You flatter me. I was wondering if you wanted to join me for the evening? I was thinking we could…” Stolas smiled as images flashed through his mind. “Entertain each other?”

Blitzo opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off but found himself pausing. He had caught a glance of the picture hanging over his desk, one of him and the rest of I.M.P smiling after a successful kill. Blitzo had his arms clutched around them and the others smiled up at him, admit a bit reluctantly. He stared around again at his empty office and before he knew what he was doing, he said, “Okay.”

“…Okay?” Stolas, who moments before had been lounging casually upon his bed, now sat up, a hint of hope and confusion coloring his tone. “Okay, you want to join me for Christmas?”

“Yes?” Blitzo cringed further into the safety of his arms. What the hell was he doing? Surely he couldn’t be considering spending any amount of time with the horniest owl lord in hell, and yet… It was too late to take back his words so he pushed forward, hoping not to regret them further. “We’re not doing anything, just to be clear. However, I don’t… entirely hate the concept of your presence right now. So… what do you say?”

Stolas had no idea what had prompted the change of heart, but he wasn’t about to turn down an offer like that. “I would love that. And you’re sure this is what you want?”

Weirdly, Blitzo was.

When he arrived he was greeted with a text that merely read Meet me on the balcony ;), thus implying that the use of a front door was one they would be forgoing that night. Blitzo sighed and prepared for the painful climb up the tangled tresses and onto the sculpted balcony. He pulled himself over the last rung with a pained grunt, using the length of his tail to secure him the rest of the way over. At first he didn’t see anyone and he was almost worried he had fallen for one of Stolas’ tricks despite himself. That was when he noticed the owl demon skulking in the shadows of the doorway, the light from the moon casting specters on his looming form.

“Hello Blitzy,” he greeted softly, his head tilted incredulously to one side. “I didn’t think you’d really come.”

“Yeah, well, I almost didn’t,” Blitzo confessed bitterly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Truthfully speaking, I have no idea why I’m here. I hate a lot of people, and I mean a lot of people, but you take the cake for the filthiest scum of the earth I’ve ever encountered.”

“The night’s still early for talk like that.” Stolas waltzed forward, his steps a lilting, sensuous thing. Blitzo found himself staring, hating himself for doing so. As much as he insisted it was purely business to friends and co-workers, Blitzo couldn’t deny that he didn’t entirely hate their nights together. It certainly beat whatever plans he would have had for the evenings. Stolas leaned on the railing besides him, his gaze piercing as he stared down at Blitzo. Later the imp would deny the blush that crawled unwanted up his neck.

“I’m fairly certain I said nothing was happening tonight,” Blitzo reminded him, brushing off his pants. “I just wanted some company and you happened to be the easiest solution.”

“Of course,” Stolas agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “I would never think of doing anything untoward to you. I know our past has been mostly, or rather completely, sexual in nature, but I do have interests outside of intercourse you know.”

Blitzo scoffed. “Oh, like what? And please never say intercourse like that again. I feel like I need to take a shower.”

Stolas traced a fingernail across the railing, a slow, lazy path. Blitzo’s throat went dry and he reminded himself again that nothing was happening that night. His body, however, did not seem to get the memo. “I am a fan of stargazing myself and I’m actually quite a good herbalist. I’ve also been known to enjoy conversation from time to time. What about you? Any interests outside of your own personal pleasure?”

“Every interest is to serve my personal pleasure,” Blitzo said smugly, his tail coiling tauntingly behind him. “It’s the only real thing worth pursuing in this dump of a hellhole we’re all living in. I don’t have time or use for hobbies.”

“Is that why you’re so interested in killing?” Stolas prompted. “It provides you pleasure to watch others fail and die?” There was no malice or judgement in his voice, just plain curiosity. Blitzo hesitated a moment before answering.

“It pays the bills,” he said at last, the current line of questioning making him strangely uncomfortable. “I don’t really like it so much as it’s convenient. Not to mention those assholes deserved it. Not a single human gets by without doing something disgustingly rotten to someone else and damning themselves for all eternity. Why do you think we have such an overpopulation issue?”

“But you can’t really believe that, can you?” Stolas insisted, drawing closer to the imp. Blitzo’s skin prickled with goosebumps and he took an instinctual step back. “Surely there’s some good in people. At least one of them?”

“There isn’t,” Blitzo snarled, anger fueling into his voice to make up for his discomfort. “And I know for a fact you don’t believe so either.”

“Ah, you caught me,” Stolas admitted, but instead of moving back in defeat he only drew in closer. This time Blitzo found himself unable to move, his feet seemingly stuck to the floor. “I find humanity to be quite undeserving of any kind of mercy. But I know you don’t.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh but I do.” Stolas met his gaze, but something had softened in his eyes and it was no longer the predatory look from before. “I don’t just want you for your body, you know. I’ve watched you with your supposed ‘co-workers’—I’ve seen the way you look at them. You care for them. That’s why you’re here with me tonight. I’m a replacement for them, aren’t I?”

Angry heat flashed through Blitzo and he moved to step away but Stolas caught his wrist in one hand. His grip was surprisingly strong, a fact that did many things to the imp. “Don’t lie to me. Not on Christmas.”

“Oh please,” Blitzo snorted, rolling his eyes and ignoring the pounding of his heart. “You don’t really buy into all that cheap Christ stuff, do you? It’s just a scam to sell candy and toys to desperate parents. Christmas spirit is just a lie we tell ourselves to sleep better at night.”

“Maybe I don’t believe all of it,” Stolas admitted, his other hand sliding down Blitzo’s throat and curling around the base of his neck. Blitzo felt a shudder work its way down his body and he cursed the fact that this always happened whenever he got around the other demon. “But is it so wrong to want to celebrate, to spend time with the people you love?”

“What about your own family, huh?” Blitzo shot back, the words his only defense mechanism as Stolas slowly unraveled him. “You have a real one so why don’t you spend this stupid holiday with them?”

For a moment the seductive façade faded and it was just Stolas, eyes widened and beak tightened into a frown. “They’re busy,” he snapped quickly, and the look was gone before Blitzo could evaluate it too heavily. “Besides, I’m spending it with you. Per your agreement, if you remember.”

He took another step forward so that their two bodies were pressed flush up against the railing. Blitzo’s hands tightened on the cold metal and he averted his eyes. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“Then stop me,” Stolas said in reply, knowing for a fact that the imp wouldn’t. As he leaned down, the heat of their bodies mingling, Blitzo considered breaking the moment, pursuing the look on Stolas face from earlier. In the end though, he decided they would have enough time to discuss it later that next morning, after the events of the night had faded into a distant dream.

Right then, though, Blitzo had a horny demon owl to attend to.

#hazbin hotel #blitzo #stolas #stolitz #helluva boss #stolas x blitzo #twelve days of ficmas #fanfiction #christmas

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