#and would very loudly demand to be given some when she smelled them
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The Swan and her Handler
Emma Swan was cursed, and the only way to break it is with True Love's Kiss. Try breaking a curse with True Love's Kiss when you're a damn swan.
Yes, it's true, I've written a CS AU based on Walnut the Crane, a crane who fell in love with her handler. I'm ashamed at how idiotic this is. It’s by far the dumbest thing I've ever written in all my life. It’s nothing more than crack written in about an hour, un-betaed and barely edited. Sorry, and you’re welcome.
Rated T for language
~2000 words
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These damn idiots can’t get anything right. It was bad enough when Emma showed up on their doorstep with perfectly clear care instructions that were completely ignored, but now they keep trying to get her to reproduce as if she’s some kind of zoo animal.
Of course, given her current living situation, it does make at least a tiny bit of sense.
Ever since the curse, Emma has been stuck in a wildlife refuge and has been unable to get any of her stupid caretakers to figure out how to help her. She knows exactly what she needs, but unfortunately, no one here speaks swan and she can’t exactly hold a pen. Her care instructions were translated upon her transformation, so the one thing that could have helped her now looks like chicken-- er, swan scratch.
“She needs a mate,” one of the jack asses points out. “She’ll probably want to mate for life.”
True, she thinks, although, not with any of the stinky fluff balls you have sent my way.
First it was Neal. He tried to mate with her, so she killed him. Last week, they put Walsh in her enclosure, and she pecked at him violently until they took pity on him and sent him to the medical unit.
Although today seems different, because her newest caretaker has shown up, and she realizes that he just might be exactly what she’s been looking for.
Emma Swan, unfortunately very appropriately named, requires a mate who can break her curse, True Loves Kiss the only thing that can bring her back to her truest form as a human adult woman. And when the new dark haired, stunning eyed veterinarian comes strutting into her enclosure, she hurries towards him to get a closer look at his name tag.
He jumps away, making some comment about her being fiery , and she blushes, squawking at him as she tries to get closer. Killian , it reads, and if she had lips and not a bill, she would smile.
“We think she’s depressed,” the stupid one with the big eyes says. “She’s killed every mate we’ve tried to pair her with.”
Good, she thinks. I must have done more damage on Walsh than I initially thought.
“You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you, love?” the angel-man asks, making her squawk in agreement. She thinks she could make this quick, this man obviously understanding her horrible twist of fate, so she lunges for him once more, trying hard to kiss his hand and hoping beyond hope that it will transform her back into the woman she's supposed to be. No more feathers, she prays.
He exclaims again, jumping and complaining of his hand hurting as she pecks him, so she rolls her eyes and squawks angrily. “Alright, darling,” he says with his hands up, his smooth, accented voice making her heart flutter inside her chest. Her breast? She knows very little about swan anatomy, despite having been turned into one. “Perhaps she’s stressed about her environment. Have you tried giving her a dark, quiet place to nest?”
“Not yet,” the dumbass admits.
The handsome one, Killian, a name she could get used to rolling off of her tongue, steps away from her, so she hurriedly follows. “Perhaps here in this corner will do.”
I would love to spend time in a dark corner with you, she thinks, giving the man what she hopes is a salacious smirk. She watches appreciatively as he sits down, crossing his legs as he starts to fiddle with some sticks as if she would be interested in them. Rather than helping him to make a nest out of the twigs and leaves, she plops herself right in his lap, nestling herself into his crossed legs and gazing up at his beautiful features, earning a smile from him.
“There we are, love,” he says happily, clearly surprised that she chose to plant herself upon him, although he shouldn't be. Just look at him, for god’s sake. “Comfortable?”
She squawks loudly, making him cringe, then fluffs her feathers in an attempt to gussy herself up for him. If she’s going to earn True Love’s Kiss from this perfect specimen, she’s going to have to work for it. The man chuckles as he looks down at her-- is he gazing? -- and lifts his hand slowly, placing a finger gently upon the top of her head and petting back down her neck, sending a chill down her spine, at least she thinks it’s her spine. She pushes her head towards him again, demanding more attention in an effort to get him to fall for her. It shouldn’t take long; she’s very enchanting.
“She’s never been this calm,” the dumb one says, making her snap her head towards him with a glare, shouting at him in disapproval. Killian shushes her soothingly, his finger softly stroking along her stupid feathers once more and making her shut her eyes.
“She just needed a bit of attention, it seems.”
“We’d best be careful,” someone else says, the bookworm who always thinks she knows everything about swan science. Of course, she probably knows more than Swan Emma. “We wouldn’t want her to imprint on you ,” she seems to joke.
“That’s quite alright, isn’t it love?” he asks her, essentially giving her permission to fall in love with this handsome bastard.
He comes by a few times a week for the next several months, each time sitting with her in her tiny, dirty nest and not seeming to care that his pants get soiled. She’s always careful to do her business elsewhere, making sure that her prince can sit in comfort when he arrives. She gets angry with him when he brings someone new, a sickly looking male named Graham who she assures is not welcome, so Killian gives up trying to get her to mate with someone. For some reason, they're concerned about her procreating, but she can assure everyone that she will not be giving birth to a damn swan baby while she’s under this curse.
One day, when Killian visits near the end of his shift, he’s finally alone, leaving behind the dumb one and the book worm and giving her all of the attention she desires as his strong hand softly pets along her soft feathers. She can’t wait to get rid of these stupid feathers.
“You’re quite funny,” he remarks as the sun starts to set. “Unlike any swan I’ve ever met.”
She squawks at him-- I’m not a damn swan-- and he smiles. “Quire the personality. It always seems like you’re trying to communicate with me.”
Yes, you stupid handsome man, that’s exactly right! She tries to nod, lifting and dropping her head in quick succession and making the beauty laugh. She nudges her head against his hand in demand of more pets.
“What is it you want me to know, darling?” he asks gently, his voice soft and soothing and deep.
She groans, a sound that comes out like a pained cry, and his face shifts. “Are you alright, love?”
In pure frustration, Emma drops her head against the man’s chest, likely assaulting him with how badly she smells like bird shit, and he chuckles again, letting his hand run along her feathers some more. “There, there. I know life as a swan must be difficult. All you seem to want is for someone to listen.”
She looks up, hoping that her expression conveys her complete and utter irritation at the fact that he’s literally hitting the nail on the head and yet he has no idea.
“Such a personality,” he says again. “I’ve got to head home now, love. I’m looking forward to having Chinese for dinner. Perhaps I'll bring you an eggroll tomorrow, or is that insensitive?”
She squawks, half because she’s laughing, and half because she would quite literally kill another potential mate for an eggroll. Wanting to beg him not to go, she gives him her best sad face through her inability to emote, and nestles her head against his palm one more time.
“I’ll sneak you one, love,” he laughs, and as he does, he finally, finally , leans down towards her, and plants his stupid, dumb, lucious lips upon the top of her stinky bird head.
Cramps start to run through her whole stupid bird body, the same ones she felt when she was cursed on Halloween decades ago. He stands, not seeming to notice her pain and discomfort until he’s a few steps away, and he turns back around. “Swan, are you alright?” he asks, as if she could answer, and she shouts back at him wordlessly.
She praises whatever gods might be listening as she feels things start to change, her feathers shedding as her skin is exposed to the chilly fall air. The webbing between her toes retracts, her legs turning flesh colored rather than that horrifying orange. Her bill turns back into her nose and mouth, preparing her to smooch her savior rather than peck at him. Finally, she’s back!
“Bloody fucking hell,” Killian breathes as he stares on, Emma transforming back into her old self, laying in a heap on the ground as she brushes off the dirt and twigs and leaves.
“You did it,” she praises before clearing her throat, raw from misuse after all these years. She grins at him as she’s been wanting to since they met, and is met with a horrified, shocked look on his face. His jaw is gaping, his eyes wide as they catch the light of the setting sun. “I knew you would.”
“What the fuck?”
“You broke the curse,” she says happily, standing up and exposing her nude form to him, cursing the lack of feathers although she vowed she never would. Immediately, he removes his jacket, despite his shock still clearly running through him, and hands it to her.
“I did what now?”
“I was cursed. Why do you think I was such a miserable swan?”
He’s looking around, his mouth snapping shut and dropping open in succession as he tries to process the fact that there was a swan in the enclosure just a second ago, and now there’s a frankly beautiful, naked woman standing before him. “You were cursed,” he says doubtfully.
“Yes, I was. An evil witch cursed me on Halloween decades ago and I've been stuck in that infernal bird form ever since. All I needed was True Love’s Kiss to break it, but imaging trying to fall in love with someone as a damn bird.”
“So you… you fell in love… with me…?”
“Obviously,” she smiles, taking a step towards him on shaky legs, tripping and falling into his waiting arms as he catches her, careful not to grope her, although she isn’t sure she would mind. “And you broke the curse, so… Do I have to tell you what that means?”
“I-- I’m having a lot of trouble processing the fact that I've evidently been in love with a swan for months.”
“Well, my name is Emma Swan, so you can be in love with a Swan for the rest of your life, if you’d like.”
“Emma,” he murmurs, staring into her eyes and smiling when he seems to recognize her. She’s never been able to see herself in the mirror, because the book worm was worried she would attack it, but based on the way he’s staring, she would guess that the evil witch let her keep her eyes. “Do you know it just happens to be Halloween tonight?”
“Kismet,” she says softly, gazing up at him. He lifts his hand like he did while she was planted in his lap, and she’s finally able to feel his calloused finger along the skin of her cheek, then of her neck, just as he had done before.
“Aye,” he agrees. “The spirit of the holiday does make this whole thing a bit easier to accept.”
“Yeah,” she says dismissively. “Now take me home. I was promised an eggroll and I haven't eaten anything but grass and stale bread in almost thirty years.”
~~~~
Tagging (with apologies):
@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree
#Captain Swan#Captain swan fanfic#cs fanfic#the swan and her handler#cs ff#the swan ff#cs crack#crack fic
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Any chance of getting some spicy royals content on this fine Sunday? After they’re married/during their engagement, I have a vision of them doing their events and then going back to palace and just like tearing each other’s clothes off and doing it on any and all available surfaces.
My friend, you understand the Royals vibe.
Their whole romance started because essentially they couldn't keep their hands off one another. That's not going to change when they're together, in fact, it makes it all a little worse. The young queen and her future husband are well known for probably being too in love.
Kate wasn't stupid, she knew what the entire country was saying about her when rumours of her relationship with Anthony started leaking from the palace as these things often did. And she supposed she was a good part to blame. People couldn't help but notice the Security that lined the corridor outside Anthony's flat, and really that meant there had to be someone of note inside, and there was, of course, the very public way Anthony had gone about things. It didn't take long for the rumours to start.
She called off the wedding for him
It was all arranged for publicity
The Queen Regent demanded she marry him if not Stirling
He's a traitor and so must she be.
It was vaguely amusing honestly, the idea that Mary of all people would be encouraging Kate to do anything to Anthony that wasn't punching him in the stomach. The palace PR team had practically begged her not to acknowledge Anthony publicly
"All due respect Your Highness, This will be a disaster." Jenkins had said, the bridge of his nose pinched in his fingers, barely 2 days into her relationship with Anthony,
Kate had bristled, "What are you suggesting, Mr Jenkins?"
"I'm suggesting, that publicly, Our new Queen has no consort, whatever you do in private is of course your own business."
Kate had frowned, "And what about when we get married." A small hiss escaped several people in the room and Kate had pretended not to see the way Mary stiffened beside her, plowing ahead. "Surely eventually I'll have to marry someone, what do you suggest then?"
And no one had really seemed to have an answer for her, which of course meant the answer was clear.
Hopefully you'll come to your senses before then!
But it hadn't been necessary in the end. Sophie had sent them to a primary school, and aided by a rather adorable Hyacinth Bridgerton, Kate and Anthony (Kathony as they'd been dubbed) had emerged as they country's new it couple. Requests poured in for comment, the were star crossed lovers people that certainly weren't supposed t fall in love but couldn't resist the pull. And allegedly, everyone could see it. Just from the way they looked at one another.
It seemed every day in those first few months blurry pictures emerged of them, Anthony's head resting on her shoulder on a street corner, Kate's legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her through the garden on his back, Anthony crowding her against a tree their lips nearly touching. It was relentless, and rather than sullying the image of the royal family, it seemed to make public opinion soar. Yes, their new queen was young, beautiful, and very much besotted with her grouchy boyfriend. It really was quite the narrative, and not very far from the truth. Before long reports of them slipping away at public events seemed to emerge, and this the palace could not abide.
"Kate, please, please do not sneak out of this event." Sophie was practically begging, looking sternly between her and Anthony. "I mean it, "I get it, you just got engaged, and it's adorable that you're so happy but Can we stay to the end of one event this month?"
"Ahh Sophie, when you look this good, lady's are bound to drag you behind a topiary animal for a quickie." Anthony had said, with that insufferable smirk on his face."
Kate had scoffed. "Won't be a problem, Sophie, Anthony won't be getting any for a while."
As it turns out, it was a problem. Before they'd even left the palace Kate was warm. Anthony had been sitting in the small living area attached to her suite by the time her styling team had finished flitting around her, and honestly, the sight of him made her mouth go dry.
He was wearing a light grey suit, the waistcoat of which had a light checked pattern through it, cut tightly across his broad shoulders, his red tie and pocket square in stark contrast. She didn't really need to look at them, she'd known before she even walked in what colour they would be, they always matched, Anthony insisted upon it. Insisted on her crest being neatly embroidered into them, and it was a little unflattering but it aways sent a little possessive thrill through her.
She'd cleared her throat and he'd looked up from his phone, smile already in place though it turned just slightly predatory at the sight of her.
"Well, well, your majesty, don't you look lovely this evening?" His fingertips had trailed over her bare back a little delightfully.
Kate had scoffed, her cheeks burning, "we promised hands to ourselves tonight."
Anthony laughed, "There's almost no way you're going to be able to manage that, Darling. I look delectable this evening."
God his arrogance was startling, even if he wasn't far off the mark. "You look average."
He wasn't deterred. "I'll make you a deal, Princess" She'd been the queen for months but he still called her by her original title, his eyes shining at her. "If we stay until 11:30, I'll give you a reward."
A shiver had run down her spine as she'd thought about last night when he'd bent her over the back of the sofa, his hands hot against her. "Won't be a problem. Prepare to get on your knees for me."
"It would be my pleasure."
By the time they'd been there an hour, Kate was struggling, Anthony's hand was hot on her back, his eyes burning into hers as he laughed and smiled, his glasses shining in the dim lighting, and it didn't help that she was sure the air conditioning was broken.
And he wouldn't leave her alone. Usually at these events after a while they were tugged in different directions, mingling with this lord and that, as directed by their teams. But tonight Anthony shrugged off all of his instructions, keeping his arm like a vice around her, the smell of his cologne a little overwhelming, his deep voice rumbling through the both of them, his finger tapping his watch every time her own hand slipped under his jacket or to the edge of his trousers, a stupid smirk on his face. God he was absolutely unbearable, and she wanted him so fucking much, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
Her eyes didn't leave his watch from 11:28, counting down the seconds as they slipped by, clearing her throat as soon as 11:30 ticked around.
"Can you have the car brought around Steve?"
Anthony's smirk intensified into something like a wolfish grin as they waved once more to the assembled party before they slipped out the side doors.
"Well, Your majesty, very impressive restraint shown tonight." his voice was like gravel in her ear, both hands on her waist now, one on either side, his teeth already nipping at her neck, it was all she could do not to groan loudly.
As soon as the car door was opened, Kate had tugged Anthony inside, her hand wrapped around his tie, his hips bucking against her at the sharp tug she gave it.
"What are you doing?" Her own voice was rough as Anthony attempted to settle into the seat beside her, his eyebrows raised.
"Sitting down so we can go home and fuck?" There was something so innocent about the way he said it, that made her heart flutter with love for him, his hand fiddling nervously with his glasses.
Kate clucked her tongue, tugging on his tie until his knees were resting on the floor of the limousine in front of her. "But we have such a long drive home, Lord Bridgerton, you better get to work."
Anthony's eyes darkened immediately, his hands tugging roughly at the hem of her dress, calming as he slipped underneath it, his lips trailing up her thighs, hands forcing her legs apart.
"Fucking hell I wanted to crawl under this dress the minute I saw you, wanted to do it right there in that fucking room again."
Kate tried to force her voice into something like nonchalance, failing miserably as she shifted her hips a little desperately "Well it would have certainly given the Lords something to tut about, you know how they like that."
His chuckle was slight muffled through the layers of her dress. "They're just jealous, they don't get to have you."
And then his mouth started moving over her, hard and relentless, and fuck she couldn't breathe. The privacy partition was thankfully already up as it always was on the way home from events, but still, Kate knew the driver, and Steve who always rode in the front of her car could hear her, and there was something oddly thrilling about it. Oddly thrilling about the obscene noises that were pulled from her chest, about the soft sound of Anthony's mouth on her, the soft moans falling from his lips at the taste of her, his voice coaxing against her.
"That's it, Kate, you've been such a good girl for Daddy."
Her eyes rolled back in her head, unable to help herself as her hips bucked against him helplessly, desperately seeking just a little more friction.
"Please, Anthony, Please."
He chuckled again and then he started moving impossibly faster, his fingers joining his tongue, forcing her higher and higher, she could see the reflection of them in the window as the streetlights passed, th obscene image of them branded on the back of her eyelids, And everything shattered. A soft scream tore through her chest, Anthony humming happily in response as her chest heaved, her breathing erratic.
Anthony's head popped out from under her dress, checking his watch a little dramatically.
"Well that took 5 minutes so I think I can probably do that another 3 times before we get home."
He managed another 4, one rolling against the other like an endless wave, her screams getting louder and louder, condensation covering the windows in the back of the car. And Anthony's smug smile as he tugged her boneless from the car, really was absolutely insufferable.
#royals#spicy sunday🌶#kathony#anthony x kate#anthony bridgerton#kate sheffield#kate sharma#molly's asks and answers
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Vacation
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Virgin!PlusSize!reader
Warnings: self consciousness, unprotected smut, authority kink, daddy kink, angst, fluff
Words:3295
You were sitting in a bar somewhere in Croatia. Frustrated about the turn of recent events.
The trip was supposed to be about you and your friends. Just enjoying the sun and ocean. No boys allowed! But then on the 2nd evening your friends had abandoned you at the bar to go clubbing with some boys from spain. Fan-fucking-tastic, you thought.
There went your nice all girls vacation. The way you knew your friends you weren't going to see them for a while.
Just as you were about to pay your tab and leave, someone sat down next to you and started talking. “Hi, sweetheart. You alone here?” he didn’t say much but you recognized that voice immediately. Your head snapped upwards and your eyes widened. Of all the people you would have never expected him there. Sebastian Stan. The man of your wet dreams.
You fumbled your phone out of your purse and unlocked the screen. Yep, he was definitely the man from your wallpaper.
“You okay there?” he asked, smiling before his eyes fell on your background picture.
“Oh, so you know me.” he figured.
“Ehm, yeah, yeah I do. Holy shit you’re even more beautiful in person.” you swooned.
He laughed heartily at that and ordered you and himself another drink.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you with your girlfriend on vacation? Sorry if I give off stalker vibes” you turned red faced.
“That’s a long story but to cut to the chase, I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.” his face turned slightly sour at the thought of his ex.
“Oh, I’m genuinely sorry to hear that. She seemed to make you happy.”
“Well, she did. But not anymore. So enough of her, what’s your name and what are you doing here?” He changed the topic.
“How rude of me, my name is Y/N and I was initially here to have a nice week with my girls. But now they've abandoned me in favor of some guys. So I decided to have a few drinks by myself and then go back to the house we rented.” you let all your frustration out.
“Wow, that sounds terrible. But the night doesn’t have to end like this. Would you like to dance?” he asked friendly.
“I can’t dance.” you objected.
“I’ll lead you, come on.” he paid for both of your drinks and then held out his hand for you to take. And how could you say no to that face?
“Alright. Let’s do this. And thanks for the drinks but you didn’t need to pay for me.” you told him.
“I know. You look like you could hold your own but I simply wanted to pay.” he grinned and you accepted his answer.
He pulled you onto the kinda crowded dance floor and guided your hands on his shoulders. Then he guided your clumsy body to the beat and soon it started to be real funny.
“Okay, that was fun but I need a break. And preferably some fresh air.” you yelled over the music out of breath.
He understood and took you outside in front of the bar and a bit away from the entrance where the smokers stood.
“See I told you if you ease into things and give me a chance I can make this a night you won’t forget.” he grinned, mischievously.
“A bit cheeky aren’t we?” you tried to play his game but his advances made you a bit uncomfortable to say the least.
The thing was, you didn’t decide on a men free vacation with your friends because you wanted to get a break from all the guys pursuing you at home but because your friends were constantly surrounded by guys and only talked about their experiences with the opposite sex and that reminded you of how inexperienced you were.
You had always been self conscious. Your girl friends were always tall and skinny or at least of normal weight and could wear all the trendiest clothes but you could not shop for nice wearables so easily. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, when you went out with your friends and you had really given your look everything, still they were advanced by men and you weren’t. It was frustrating.
That brought you back to the situation at hand- why did Sebastian Stan, Hollywood hottie, decide to pick you out of all these beautiful girls at the bar? It was a riddle to you.
“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly asked.
“Anything.” he smiled.
“Why did you want to talk to me?”
The hurt in your eyes told him that you were genuinely interested in an honest answer.
“Because you seemed lonely and so am I. Also you are beautiful and now I know that you are kind and funny, too. You are perfect.” you couldn’t believe that.
“Are you serious? Me? Perfect? You have gotta be kidding me!” you scoffed.
“Why would I? In you I see something permanent. Something that could develop into more. What do you see?” he asked, concerned.
“I don’t know. I just have never heard that I am beautiful from a man before.” you looked down, embarrassed.
“You can’t be serious! What kind of stupid idiots have you met in your life before?” he asked, astonished.
“The kind that wants a model type by their side. Just the kind of arm candy you should have by yours too. Not a chubby girl like me. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” you had to hold back tears at your confession and wanted to turn around to leave. But he grabbed your arm and forced you to look at him. “Hey, don’t go. I meant what I said. I am sorry that you have only been hurt by men so far but I promise I’m not like that. You can rely on me. I really want to get to know you. Let me take you home and we watch a movie or something? It’s only 10pm. No strings attached.” he offered.
That did sound like a dream and you decided quickly that you had nothing to lose if you said yes.
“Okay. The house is right up that hill and behind that little bit of forest.” you informed him.
He offered his arm, gentlemen like and you took it.
“So where are you from when you are on vacation here at the moment?” he asked to make smalltalk.
“I’m from Germany.”
“Impossible! I heard Germans speak English and they have a strong accent. You have barely an accent and I would have placed you closer to the states.” he was surprised.
“I hear that a lot actually. But I have never been to the US. I just watch a lot of movies and TV shows in English. And I read books in English too.” you smiled bashfully.
“That’s amazing. I think I have a stronger european accent than you do and I’ve lived in the US since I was 12.” he laughed.
“Well, English is my comfort language so I’m always happy when I can use it.” you said nonchalantly.
“Marvelous. You’re amazing.” he complimented.
“Oh, stop it.” you turned red.
“I’m only saying what's true.”
“You’re too kind.”
You walked uphill towards the small wood you had to cross, in the dark. Great idea!
He walked pretty fast and you had to almost jog to keep up with him which made you sweat and got you terribly out of breath.
When the trees around you got thicker and it got even darker it happened. You stepped on a rock, it rolled to the side and you twisted your ankle.
“Shit! Ouch!” you exclaimed loudly.
“What happened?” he asked scared.
“Twisted my ankle. It’s just too fucking dark.” you were angry at yourself for being so stupid.
“Damn. Can you step on your foot?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But what other options do we have? I gotta try.”
You stepped from your left foot onto your right and it buckled beneath you under the pain. “Fuck!”
“Okay that won’t work.” he stated and the next second he just picked you up bridal style and started to carry you on.
“Are you crazy? Let me down. I’m definitely too heavy to carry.” you ordered him.
“No, you are not. And when you try to hobble home we won’t make it until sunrise. So now shut up and let me carry you.” he silenced you efficiently.
“But take a break if you need to, and you will need one eventually.” you mumbled.
The rest of the way you held onto him and buried your face in his neck. Damn, did he smell good. It almost made you moan.
When you arrived at the door he didn’t let you down as you would have expected him to, no, he grabbed the keys from your hands, opened the door and carried you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.
“Thank you Sebastian. You are so kind. What can I ever do to repay you?” you asked him.
“Hmm, maybe let me kiss you?” he suggested and you had to swallow nervously. He immediately picked up on your hesitation “Only if you want to of course.”
“Sure I want to, but… I have never kissed anyone before.” you averted your eyes in embarrassment.
“Then let me change that, please.” he begged. You saw no resentment or reproach in his beautifully blue eyes.
Of course you caved and nodded your consent.
He leaned closer to your crouched form on the couch, put his hand on your thigh and brushed his lips to yours.
The kiss was sweet and careful not to startle you or demand something from you that you could feel uncomfortable with.
“So how was your first kiss?” he asked and smiled.
“Very nice.” you looked blissed out at him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I would really love to do that again.”
“Please do.” you confirmed.
Oh and he did. The kiss was magical. This time he pushed his tongue sensually into your mouth and you were stunned how good that felt.
“You okay?” he wanted to know afterwards.
“More than okay. I’m happy you picked me at the bar. Usually they say “never meet your heroes” but with you that’s different.”
“Thanks,doll. That means a lot to me.” he leaned in and kissed your neck.
At the mention of that particular nickname your posture stiffened. He noticed.
“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”
“Ehm, well … you know I haven’t only had a crush on you but also on Bucky… maybe.” you whispered.
At first he seemed confused as to where this confession suddenly came from but then it clicked.
“It’s the nickname. I called you doll.” he laughed. “I didn’t even register that I got that from him. But if it turns you on I will keep using it.” that grin could win you over any day.
“I could get used to it actually. I never would have imagined someone calling me that. But you make it sound so hot. Thanks for making me feel good.”
“Anytime, doll.” he kissed you again.
“By the way, didn’t we wanna watch a movie?” you suddenly asked.
“Yes, of course. Do they have Netflix or something on here?” did he wanna know.
“Disney+. And with it all the Marvel Movies.” you winked at him.
“Anything you want, doll.” he kept using that nickname over and over but you loved it.
“Which one have you not seen yet?”
“I think I’ve actually seen them all. Which one is your favorite?”
“I love the ones you’re in the most.” you confessed.
“Okay, close your eyes and I’ll pick your favorite one.” he suggested.
“Alright. Let’s give it a try.” you agreed.
When you were allowed to open your eyes again you saw the opening credits of a Marvel movie flashing. You recognized the first scene: The Washington Monument and a very exhausted looking Sam Wilson and you heard “on your left” which made you smile. He knew then that he had picked the right movie.
“Good choice.” you praised him.
Then you cuddled up to him and he put his arm around you.
Although you were pretty tired after about half the movie you could not skip over one second of that glorious movie.
“You know- the Winter Soldier is kinda hot. So determined and dominant.” You slurred when you saw him walk down that car after he jumped from the bridge.
“You think so? You like to be dominated? Controlled? Called names? Maybe tied up and used?” he growled into your ear.
“Fuck.” you whimpered and clenched your thighs.
“You like the thought of that don’t you?” he bit into your earlobe.
You nodded furiously.
“Use your words babygirl.”
“Yes, sir.” you said.
“So, an authority kink is there too. And here I thought you were so innocent.” he pushed.
“How can you be innocent when you read fanfiction almost every day?” you quipped.
“Fanfiction, huh? Can you show me examples so I can paint myself a picture?” he asked.
You took your phone out and opened Tumblr. Then you searched for your favorite Bucky fanfic with all the kinks you enjoyed and handed the phone to him.
He read with interest and you studied his facial expressions, smirking when you saw reactions to certain parts you had expected to come.
“So that’s the kind of naughty literature you enjoy alone in your bed, touching yourself maybe.” he growled.
“Yes, sir. The imagination of what you could do to me makes me so wet.” you bit your lip seductively.
Suddenly you were in a flow. All the insecurities about your body and weight were gone. Only him and your sexual fantasies existed in the moment.
“Fuck baby.” he moaned and grabbed your hand to push it onto his growing bulge. “Feel what you do to me, doll?”
“So hot.” you moaned back and felt the urge to take charge. So you got onto your knees and sat in his lap grinding down on him.
Before anything could go further he stopped you and whispered “if at any point you want to stop or feel uncomfortable or I’m doing something you are not ready for or don’t like, tell me and we will stop immediately. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sebastian. I understand. Thanks.”
And so it continued. Grinding and kissing. Until he suddenly stood up abruptly holding you close. “I’m not taking your virginity on this couch. Where is your bedroom?”
He was so considerate “upstairs and then the last door on the right.”
He carried you to the room, carefully laying you down on the bed so as to not disturb your injured foot.
When he unbuttoned the button down he was wearing and took it off you were already drooling.
“Let me undress you, darling. Turn around so I can unzip your dress. Which is beautiful by the way.” he suggested and winked.
You did as he told you and soon felt your dress falling off your shoulders. He helped you pull it over your head and left you in your bra, chub rub shorts and panties.
A little embarrassed at the shorts you looked to the side. But you couldn’t go out in a dress without wearing any type of pants underneath.
“You are so sexy, baby.” he did everything to make you feel comfortable and you started to believe him.
“May I?” he motioned for your bra and you nodded your consent.
Next he took off his jeans and the realization of what was to come started to seep into your mind.
“You still okay with this?” he made sure.
“Yes. I want this Sebastian. I really do. I trust you” you assured him.
So he proceeded with the rest of your clothes and lastly his boxer shorts.
The whole time he kept kissing you hungrily. When he crawled on top of you and you had that skin on skin contact you had never felt so safe with anyone before.
“I gotta prep you before we go all the way, alright? Don’t wanna hurt you, doll.” he whispered between kisses.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, promise.”
“Please.” you begged.
That’s when he scooted down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. The next thing you felt was him placing a kiss on your mound, and then his tongue poking out starting to flick your clit. He pushed your legs further apart to gain better access.
“Fuck, feels so good.” you moaned just when he inserted one finger into your tight pussy. “Oh, my gosh. Don’t stop.” you begged him.
“I won’t” he mumbled and kept attacking your clit.
“‘m so close.”
“Come for me baby. Come now.” That command was the last straw which brought you to orgasm.
Breathlessly you smiled down at him and he smiled right back at you.
“You up for more?” he needed the confirmation that you were alright.
“Yes, sir. Now I don’t know why I have never done this before. I don’t ever want you to stop again.” At that statement he laughed heartily.
“Then let’s start, shall we?” he kept kissing over your belly, up to your breasts, licked your nipples and sucked hickies onto your neck.
“Ready?”
“Can you just fuck me already?” you asked annoyed.
“Someones being needy.” he joked and finally penetrated your pussy.
“Oh, fuck. So big. Hmmm. deep. Shit.” you were already reduced to a mumbling mess.
“Such a tight fit. You feel amazing.” he buried his head into your neck.
And then he started to move. Slowly at first but picked up speed rapidly. He hit spots inside you that your favorite vibrator was never able to get.
End then something you never wanted anyone to hear slipped your mouth “Fuck, daddy. Harderr!” and suddenly he stopped completely and you mewled disappointed until you realized what you had said. You opened your eyes to see his reaction.
You expected him to be disgusted but all you could see was a hunger. He looked like a predator who finally caught his prey.
“Say that again!” he growled. That statement of his made a surge of pride and confidence rush through you.
You bit your lip mischievously and said “Please, daddy. Fuck me harder.” and he immediately snapped.
He pistoned his hips forward, hitting your cervix over and over until you were so desperately close.
“You’re about to come, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing me, doll. Alright I’m gonna count down and I want you to come with me. Understood”
“Yes, daddy please… need to come… so bad.”
“Five..” deep thrust. “Four…” nip to the collarbone. “Three…” you clawed at his back. “Two…” you tried your hardest not to come and closed your eyes. “Look at me babygirl..” so you opened your eyes. “One… Come” and the dam broke. You had never come so hard in your life. No toy could ever make you feel the way this man did. Your quivering cunt made him come so hard. When he rolled off you he was breathing just as heavy as you were. The only noise you heard was your rapid heartbeat and blood rushing in your ears.
“That was amazing. We definitely need to do that again” you said.
“Oh yes. Anytime.”
The next week flew by so quickly and you two spent most of it in bed. You decided that your lives needed to be lived together so the next chance you got you would be moving in with him. Sometimes dreams do come true!
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(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)
Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 1)
Pairings: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Colossus x Shadowcat
Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, you and your boyfriend Peter are on a double date downtown with your fellow X-Men Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) and Kitty Pryde (Shadowcat) when Deadpool and Russell arrive unexpectedly. Chaos and violence naturally ensues, including taking down mafia henchmen, dealing with news media and paparazzi who circle in with the action, and a jealous Peter. This will be concluded in Part 2 with the mixed reactions of Logan, Charles, and Erik when you all bring Wade and Russell back home, etc. 😄
Notes: For simplicity’s sake as Piotr R. is normally called “Peter” as well, he’ll just be referred to as Colossus here.
Warnings: Some alcohol use. And it’s Deadpool, so a lot of cursing and irreverent jokes of course. This started out as just crack!fic that became actual fic that had to be split into two parts because it hit post limit. Holy cow.
Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist
—————————
Kitty all but snorted, trying to put her drink back down on the table before it could end up fully sideways instead as her laughter left her trembling.
Colossus sighed quietly, but you could still see the warmth in his eyes as he looked down at her before helping dab up some of her errant wine off the table with a thick cloth napkin.
It was late Friday night, and save for your semi disapproving, large and very Russian designated driver, the other three of you were now several drinks deep and a bit too loudly enjoying Peter’s retelling of the Led Zeppelin cover band debacle. You’d been there with him that night, but it never got old the way Peter told it.
“I shit you not, and this guy still keeps hitting on Jean.” Peter continued, his third nearly empty glass of craft beer still in hand. “Scott’s about to fry the dude. They’re playing Immigrant Song, and these lasers start up. All dudebros in the club go wild, and Scott tries to sneak off a warning shot. Freaking air balls it! I have to move like forty people and it still blows a damn hole in the wall. But nobody even noticed! Fake Robert Plant is screaming his heart out and everybody is just eating it up. I swear my Dad could have flown in there, cape billowing and they still would have thought it was part of the show!”
You were at risk of being elbowed in this small restaurant booth, with how animated Peter was as he spoke beside you. But you didn’t mind. The lighting was dim, possibly verging on romantic, the smell of good food from the kitchen reminded you of what was to come, and you were just enjoying time with some of your favorite people.
When Peter did finally drop his hand again though, the not so subtle movements of it then up your thigh also promised something much more personal later tonight. Maybe it was the warmth from the mixed drinks you were also nursing, but you shifted your leg a little, pushing even more into his touch under the table. Your movement just signaled your silent agreement to him that tonight would be a perfect night to be throwing clothes on the floor as soon as you got back to your shared room at the mansion.
It’d been a long, tiring week after all. Helping teach classes during the day and training your ass off in the danger room every night, you didn’t think it was unreasonable to cut loose a bit now.
Even Colossus was chuckling a little at last, but the big guy was always softest around Kitty. You in particular had been one of her biggest supporters when she’d first confessed her attraction towards him. You’d noticed his bashfulness with her as well, and all the little glances he’d given her long before she’d ever worked up the courage to ask him out.
But that seemed so long ago now, it was hard to really remember a time when they weren’t together. Almost as long as you and Peter really.
You glanced up as the waiter came back by to check on you all, saying your food would be out in a few more minutes and asking if anyone needed more drinks.
“Oh gosh, we’re really running up the tab right?” Kitty smiled.
You could see the little bit of relief in Colossus’ expression as she waved the waiter off though, her current wine glass still nearly full. “I’m fine for now, thank you.”
Peter glanced at you and you nodded as well. A buzz was fine, but you didn’t want to be climbing the mansion stairs full on drunk tonight. “I’m good.”
As the waiter left, your conversation got a little more subdued. You leaned into Peter somewhat, hip to hip in the booth as he put his arm around your waist.
Kitty was now talking about a movie she thought you should all go see next weekend if you could. You were just in the process of agreeing as you’d wanted to see it too, when Colossus suddenly went stock still, a look of real surprise on his face.
Kitty evidently noticed as soon as you did, you both staring up at him in unison.
“Do not turn around,” He instructed to you and Peter, eyes locked on something behind you.
Of course when told to do one thing, it would take everything in Peter’s willpower to not do the opposite. But to his credit he actually did hesitate. “Do we need to be dodging something? I mean, I can move us if I need to, man. You just gotta let me know.” Peter stated.
“I don’t think he’s seen us yet. Please do not draw attention.” Colossus responded, still frustratingly vague to the rest of you.
But he hadn’t metaled up yet, his skin still entirely human looking. So on the plus side, it couldn’t be someone he thought an immediate physical threat.
You glanced to Kitty for some hope of explanation as she was seated beside Colossus and facing the same direction. But she was too short in comparison to him, and couldn’t see all the way across the booth dividers as easily as he could. “Well who is it?” Kitty demanded quietly.
But you heard an impatient voice carry over clearly from the nearby restaurant entrance.
“Look, you know he’s here. I know he’s here. Don’t make me leave you guys a bad Yelp review. I will totally Karen that shit up. I’m just here for him.” A pause. “...And some of the cannolis. God, I love those things. You went a little scarce on the filling last time though. Don’t make me add that to the Yelp review.”
You heard the hostess stutter, fear evidently building. “Sir, firearms are not allowed in this restaurant. The owner, he, I...I can’t.”
There was a loud sigh from the man, the distinct sound of a gun cocking, and then all hell broke loose.
“WADE!” Colossus screamed, your entire table flipping as he stood up, metal now encasing him in this even larger form.
Abruptly you were now standing back by the entrance yourself. Peter had one arm around you, and the other around Kitty as he let you both go just as instantly, having just brought you there before he disappeared again.
That little flare up of vertigo from the speed and sudden stop didn’t mix well with the alcohol, and she and you both stood there another moment, queasy as Peter appeared again with an armful of guns.
It would have been comical as he clearly had no idea where to put them now, but everyone else that had still been in the restaurant was already screaming and running for the doors in a panic.
The owner of the multiple guns couldn’t care less about the crowd however, only turning his full focus to the lot of you then in exasperation.
“Oh my God, you anti second amendment, mother fuckers. I’m in the middle of a job here!”
“You can’t just point guns at innocent people, Wade! We have talked about this many times!” Colossus retorted, all seven foot of him now standing over Deadpool with paternal like annoyance.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s called a threat. I wasn’t going to kill her you overprotective, asshat! Now Giovanni is probably holed up in some pussy ass panic room, or he’s already ghosted me out the back door! And yes, I know that is such a stereotypical mob boss name and totally sounds like the Pokemon villain. Fuck him and his always trying to take Pikachu! He had a talking cat the whole time who just wanted his love, but no, got to have the electric rat. Fuck!”
“Language, Wade!” Colossus scolded. “There is still a child present!”
And honestly in all this insanity, that was the first time you actually noticed Russell also still standing there. Everyone else in the room had now fled out into the street.
“I’m fucking fourteen,” The boy replied defiantly. “And yeah, we were working!”
“Daddy and angrier metal daddy are just talking, hon.” Deadpool commented, waving a hand.
There was a small gust of air beside you and you looked to Peter knowingly. Wade’s guns were now all on a table, though intentionally still distant from your current position. “So I just made a couple laps.” Peter spoke up. “The cops are already coming, and there’s still a bunch of guys in the basement. They were opening some crates, probably getting weapons? I didn’t know if we were taking them out yet though. I didn’t touch anything. But is Giovanni like a big dude with gold rings and all?”
“I’m telling you besides the drug and human trafficking, it’s practically more criminal how much he sets back Italian-American stereotypes. They are an honest, manicotti making people goddamn it.” Deadpool answered.
You really were starting to regret the amount of drinks you’d had. If you’d known tonight was going to be anything like this, you would have gladly stuck to water. Your head was already trying to throb a little as you finally spoke. “So, does this guy actually have warrants out on him? If the cops come, they’re all going to end up shooting each other most likely. Can we just defuse this by giving him up to them?”
“I would say we assist to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, if that is the case, yes. I’m sure the Professor would prefer that.” Colossus agreed.
“Freaking goody two shoes, all of you.” Wade sighed. “But he has to get arrested or dead okay? I don’t get paid otherwise.” He paused though, then looking back up to Colossus before suddenly elbowing him. As if he’d even really feel that. “And hello rudeness, are you not going to introduce me to your little girls night out club here before we go bust some heads in a gratuitous X-Force/X-Men hotties crossover?”
“X-Force?” Kitty asked, sounding as already over this as could be.
“Well, we are a little empty on the roster at the moment. Some...unfortunate parachuting incidents. Wind advisory that day. You know how it goes.” Deadpool shrugged.
By her expression, no. She did not know how it went.
But the sooner you started, the sooner this could be over. Colossus motioned to each of you in turn, “Peter, (Y/N), and Kitty. These are my teammates and friends.” He nodded back to Deadpool, “And this is Wade.” And then to the boy. “And Russell.”
Of course you already knew who they both were. It’d been a bit of a scandal really, with the whole Essex House fiasco and the deaths that had occurred there. Fair or not, a lot of the blame had ended up on Juggernaut the second time around though you thought. Which is why Charles hadn’t had to deal with too much bad press in the aftermath.
You could not let this become another Essex House situation for the X-Men though. You were about to speak up about heading to the basement together and Deadpool staying out of your way so you all could neutralize everyone without any fatal hits, when he gasped dramatically, making you freeze again.
“Kitty!? Like an actual girl named Kitty? Oh my God, this whole time I thought you were his cat!” He hit his own leg, laughing. “I’m thinking, holy shit this guy loves his goddamn cat, but who am I to judge you know? I had a dog named Mr. Shuggums. Cutest little fucker.” He took a breath. “I miss him.”
“Wade.” Colossus groaned. “We do not have all night.”
Okay, so there was still something sweet about Colossus gushing about his girlfriend even to this manic mercenary. But no kidding, this show really needed to get on the road here.
“Guys, why don’t we just let Peter disarm them all, Colossus, you grab Giovanni, and Kitty and I deal with anyone who still resists? No one has to get hurt, and then it’s all done, easy.”
“And then we go find somewhere else to eat. Killing me here. I wanted that damn calzone and tiramisu.” Peter sighed, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes again. “More guns coming up.”
He disappeared at once, but when he didn’t return immediately as you were so accustomed to, you and Kitty exchanged a nervous look.
And after only another few seconds, your instincts told you something had definitely gone wrong.
“Is the basement directly beneath us?” You asked Deadpool sharply, already reaching out a hand to Kitty. Your adrenaline was starting, all good feelings gone as it was now time to act.
But you’d worked together long enough now, you didn’t have to explain your plan to her or Colossus.
Yet when the previously mouthy merc had no instant response, just staring at you in thought, it was clear he hadn’t done any recon beforehand at all. He’d literally just walked in here and expected everything to work out.
“Perfect.” Kitty said sarcastically, glancing quickly to Colossus as she took your hand. “You’re our backup, dear, in case our vertical entrance doesn’t work out. Come find us.”
“Always.” He said, already turning, his weight shaking the floor as he ran to look for any stairway downward while you and Kitty dropped straight through the floor.
It was surely a risk of its own to use her phasing ability so blindly as this. You could end up in a too small crawlspace, in underground piping, a sewer system, anything really. She’d make sure not to go solid until it was safe, as to not impale or bury you alive of course. But if Peter were in trouble, there was no time to waste by ending up at a dead end and having to go back up and try again.
You’d held your breath, as there was no way for you to process oxygen either as your lungs and every other part of you shifted through the other matter. It was darkness and insulation, pipes, and conduit that flashed by at first. But in the fractions of seconds that it took to fall, you had already powered up. The white light of your energy field overtaking your body, shielding you both as you did fall into a larger open area.
It was even darker than the restaurant above, all concrete and dampness. The glow from your body was the brightest thing there as much more men than you’d expected all turned in surprise. You saw the glint of multiple gun barrels now, but the thing you wanted to see most was Peter’s silver hair as you’d scanned the area for him instantly.
There was a stairwell in the distance. He was laying near the bottom of it. But you had no time to be shocked or afraid, only anger swelled as you released Kitty’s hand, making you solid again. “I’ll get him.” Was all you said. Letting her know to protect herself as you flew to him. Bullets couldn’t hurt her if she was ready for them. But Peter would be defenseless without one of you now, and by means of your power of flight you were the faster of you and her.
The man closest to Peter had a different kind of gun though you realized. Something you didn’t recognize at all as he aimed at you. You splayed your palms to create an energy shield in front of you as he pulled the trigger.
It didn’t make a sound though. But everything around you instantly distorted as pain exploded through you. You saw five or six of him now, as your feet hit the ground, unable to concentrate enough to fly then. But even as you stumbled, realizing your shielding wasn’t fully stopping whatever that weapon was doing, you were still able to expand your shield rapidly, hitting the man with the force of a car in your pain and sending him flying into a nearby wall, the weapon clattering to the ground lightly against his now limp body.
But you still felt like you were going to puke.
“Kill them you idiots!” Someone screamed.
You dropped yourself, laying over Peter just as quickly, grateful to feel him breathing as you focused through the pain to extend a shield around you both as the gunfire started.
“Bitch!” Another man yelled as Kitty just walked unharmed through all the flying bullets towards you.
“Shadowcat actually,” She said, skilled enough in her powers to choose what was solid and what wasn’t. Just the outside of her fist being all she needed to crush his nose in one punch with a squirt of blood, and only the end of her foot used as she swept her leg after to knock his own right out from under him.
Even among your own team, sometimes people could forget that that petite Jewish girl was about as skilled a martial artist as anyone could be.
“Babe?” You heard against your ear though, glancing back down to Peter. There was real relief even in the chaos as you saw him smile up at you.
He talked back against your ear in the noise as Kitty continued to utterly wreck the guys around you. “I fucked up a little, right? That gun...they already had it going, aimed at the door when I came back, a trap...I think I hit every stair on the way down...I still see like three of you right now.”
“Ditto.” You breathed.
And then there was another even louder noise as the remnants of a door also came flying down the stairs. Colossus barreled in behind it like a stampeding elephant, Deadpool right behind him as they leapt over the both of you and joined the fray.
“We found the basement!” Deadpool announced gleefully, swords swinging. “Don’t think they’d even locked the door back actually, but fuck if big Russki doesn’t love a dramatic entrance!”
For a moment you thought all your words about at least trying not to kill had been for nothing, thinking Deadpool was going to chop these men into literal pieces. But even as blood sprayed left and right, you realized he was just cutting tendons. The men then unable to hold their guns, unable to stand at all as he crippled each he reached in succession.
It was still completely horrific, but hell, how much could you really ask for from someone like him? Especially when you yourself had slammed that one man into a concrete wall as if he were a ragdoll. You glanced over anxiously for a moment, glad to see him shifting a little, but still crumpled exactly where you’d thrown him. He was alive, a small relief at least.
——————————
Obviously the other gunmen hadn’t had a prayer either though once you’d all been down there together.
Colossus already had a still cursing Giovanni slung over one shoulder as you were now helping Peter back up and trying not to step in all the blood as you all walked over to Kitty.
“What a mess...very interesting weapon though,” She spoke of that odd gun that’d been used on you and Peter, it now in her hands as she turned it one way and then another examining it. “I’m bringing this back with us. The police don’t need anything like this. Hank and I can figure out how it works. And how to defend against it hopefully before we run into another one of these out in the field.”
“It seems this Giovanni was more a threat than expected,” Colossus said, giving the still squirming man an unhappy look, before looking back to you all. “Are you alright, Peter?”
“I’m still hungry.” Peter grumbled, an arm over your shoulder to still help stabilize him as his other hand went to his head as if it were pounding. He also had some bruising starting on his face, no doubt from his tumble down the stairs. “I wouldn’t have drank so damn much if I’d known we weren’t going to eat...”
With the speed of his metabolism, that alcohol likely was hitting him pretty hard now on his already empty stomach.
“We should turn this guy over and get out of here.” You agreed. Though you didn’t feel so hot yourself. Still a little nauseous from whatever that weapon did to your senses. But at least you weren’t seeing triple of everything anymore.
“Hold it, girl scouts!” Deadpool piped up, chipper as ever as he grabbed something at Giovanni’s neck before any of you could think to stop him.
The man choked just a moment though, before a piece of metal snapped off into Wade’s hands. It was a necklace, with a symbol of some sort. You saw just a glimpse of it before Deadpool pocketed it. “No proof of finishing the job, no payday for DP. No payday, then no liquor, no coke, no hookers. Am I right?”
It was too difficult to tell when if ever he was serious, and you all chose to ignore his comment, starting back up the stairs. The odd sounds of bullet fragments falling back down the stairwell caught Peter’s attention though as he gave a grossed out look to Wade for a moment.
The now impact deformed bullets were starting to work themselves back out of all the bloody holes in Deadpool’s costume. You knew where you’d seen that before of course, but Peter was the only one that actually said it aloud.
“Damn, you and Logan would be a pair.”
There was a pause, and you could swear even with the mask, you thought you saw Wade’s cheekbones move in a way that signaled he was outright grinning from ear to ear. “At least someone gets it. He still won’t return my calls though. Such a diva lately.”
Once you did get to the top of the stairs, you only found a very agitated Russell standing there, Wade’s guns in his arms. “You took long enough, the cops are outside you know. I’m not going back to jail for you!”
“Cool your tater tots, kid.” Deadpool responded lazily, in no hurry, but grabbing the weapons back to holster them all regardless.
“I could have finished this faster! I would have fried their asses!” Russell argued.
“You would have been shot. Fire does not stop bullets.” Colossus only answered matter of factly.
Russell made a face, but Wade cut him off before he could say any more.
“Now now, listen to metal daddy. No sass. And actually, I think there’s something we should talk about, champ. X-Force is way more badass and all, but we don’t exactly have a training and junior member tier yet. Maybe later. You might want to think about riding home with these guys and checking their setup out. I don’t have any powers myself to relate to you like that, except me being very shootable, devastatingly charming, sexy, smart, and a competitive level Skee-Ball player...”
Deadpool sighed, continuing. “But these guys have a Danger Room. Which is totally not a sex dungeon, yeah I was bummed about that too. But they could let you unleash that school shooter level teenage angst and burn all the shit you wanted until you really figure out your powers.”
Russel bristled. “I’m not a school shooter you prick! And you always said the X-Men were neutered dweebs and-”
Wade coughed loudly, ushering Russell forward suddenly as you all continued to walk. “Hah, kids. Such darlings. Mishear everything don’t they?”
Colossus only answered without offense though. “The offer is still open, Russell. Though you have said no before. The Professor would never turn down a young mutant in need.”
It was Peter who surprised you a little, a smirk on his face as he contributed. “Freaking sweet house too, man. Xavier’s loaded. Big screen TV, a pool, basketball court, your own room, supersonic jet. Bunch of cute girls as well, or cute boys, you know whatever you’re into.”
“I’m not gay.” Russell huffed, but actually looked to be listening now as he didn’t immediately spit back with a sarcastic retort.
Though you gave Peter a weird look and he just grinned. “What? I stayed for you didn’t I, babe? Just saying. I wasn’t exactly on board with the whole team thing before that either. I know where he’s coming from is all.”
“It’s up to you, Russell.” Kitty said more diplomatically, before returning to the matter at hand. “We’re parked at that parking garage two blocks south. Everyone meet back there, Colossus and I will hand this guy over to the cops out front. The rest of you, I’m sure there’s got to be some emergency exit you can sneak out of. Probably better to split up actually. Less attention.”
—————————
Just as Kitty had suggested, Deadpool and Russell went out one way, and you and Peter another. You came out onto another street behind the restaurant. And you’d just finally started to relax again, Peter taking your hand in his own and walking away like an honest to God normal couple for once, just out on the town together before you noticed an oddly placed white van with distinct lettering on it.
Peter saw it too just as the light from a camera hit you both.
“Hell,” You breathed.
“Want to run?” He asked seriously.
“Too late, they’d just film us ditching, and say we had something to hide.”
Your headache was returning in full force you thought as you steeled yourself, seeing the reporter now in a full sprint towards you.
“It’s Quicksilver! And (your codename)! The X-Men are here!” A woman shouted.
As you walked closer to the news van, the camera flashes only increased. It looked like a small group of paparazzi had also camped out here, hoping for this exact result. How did word travel so damn fast?
“Marcia Fletcher, WAFN nightly news!” She introduced herself at once, her camera man there just as quickly, huffing a little from the run as he got you both in focus.
You could see the lights on on his camera as she shoved her microphone in front of you and Peter. “You’re on live coverage of the Ruffiano’s restaurant shootings with WAFN. Is it true that Giovani Marcello was apprehended here tonight by the X-Men? And how did you know he was here when he’s been on Interpol’s most wanted list for four years?”
You knew without looking at him that Peter was happily deferring the speaking role to you now as you tried not to look rattled. You attempted to think of what Charles would and wouldn’t want you to say, even with the pain in your head and lingering nausea. “We didn’t know who was here. We were in the area and saw people running and went to help, that’s all.” You lied.
“But the reports of gunshots, witnesses also said Deadpool had drawn a gun on a restaurant employee and Colossus was seen inside. Is Deadpool now affiliated with the X-Men again? Did he shoot anyone?”
“Deadpool is not affiliated with the X-Men. Colossus was here tonight, but he only would have been defending anyone he thought in danger. Deadpool did not shoot anyone.” You tried to keep to short truths that time.
“But then why was Deadpool there? Should people really believe it would be a coincidence that the X-Men and Deadpool would be at the same incidence at one time if not working together?”
“Well you’re here aren’t you? Are you affiliated with us?” You replied before you could stop yourself, though still restraining the annoyance you really wanted to put into that statement. “Trouble attracts a crowd.”
Peter made a sound, a restrained laugh you knew. But before the reporter could blurt out another question, one of the now growing number of paparazzi called out, “(Your codename), hey look here! Is it true you and Quicksilver are still dating!?”
You knew better than to be baited, humoring any of them just made it worse. They were like piranhas. But Peter couldn’t help it, turning to look as so many cameras flashed. His arm slid around you protectively. “Why wouldn’t we be, dude?” He called back.
“Are you saying the photos of (your codename) and Gambit were before you two reconciling?”
It took every ounce of your self control to not respond, but oh God did you want to. It was the mission in Tanzania. You knew it. You, Storm, and Gambit. Peter had stayed in the U.S. for that one as it’d been the holidays and his Mom had wanted both he and Wanda over for some time together.
After the mission was over, the three of you had ended up on one of the beautiful Tanzanian beaches for a single day. Just a single day to yourselves.
You’d had the audacity to wear a revealing bathing suit though and you and Remy had been photographed together, him shirtless of course because it was a goddamn beach. And laughing and smiling because, surprise, you were friends! And they’d cropped Ororo out in all the closeups for complete loss of context.
It’d been a thing in some of the tabloids for a while, but you really thought that had finally blown over. Of course if anyone asked Remy, he liked to play coy on the whole subject to keep up his God’s gift to all men and women sex symbol status.
“Peter, let’s just go,” You whispered in his ear, sure anything else said would only make things worse.
But you could read him all too well, and when he turned his face to look back at you, you already knew what he was going to do. You didn’t try to stop him, because never would you humiliate him on live television with any type of rejection, but oh, you would never live this one down. Never.
He kissed you hard. And there was nothing fake about it, honestly the kind of kiss usually reserved for your bedroom as you felt heat rising up in you. The camera flashes clicking over and over as you could still taste the alcohol he’d drank before.
When he finally released you again, you gasped a little. He gave the photographers a ‘fuck you’ look, before speaking just to you. “Now we can go.”
“Fly or run?” You breathed.
“Fly please. I’m still about half out of it.” He admitted.
You powered up to some surprised and excited sounds from the crowd. Your whole body glowing white again in the energy you emitted.
“Wait, aren’t you going to stay and talk to the police!?” The reporter shouted.
“They know where to find us if they need us.” You answered, extending your energy field around Peter, before you took off vertically, making sure to get sideways over the rooftops as soon as you could though to breakup their camera angles and finally give you privacy again at last.
You landed gently atop the parking garage only a few moments later, letting him go again as you powered back down.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked, just taking your hand again though.
“No.” You said truthfully. “But, I have no idea what we’ve really just done. We still have to go home...home where the Professor always watches the 10:00 news with his late night tea.”
Peter sighed, only half joking. “We could always go stay with my Mom for a while?”
You just moved in closer, pulling him against you as you laid your head on his shoulder. “We’ll survive, babe. Somehow we always do.”
“I think that says more about you than me though. Pretty sure I’d be face down in a ditch somewhere already if it weren’t for you.”
You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck then before raising your head back up to kiss him once more. Much softer this time, and even longer than his jealous little display a few minutes ago.
He made one of his little noises of contentment, hands sliding down to squeeze your butt through the thin pants you were wearing. As he pulled your hips tighter against him, he broke the kiss enough to speak regretfully. “I really was hoping to get lucky tonight...”
“Same.” You smiled. It had been a while. Mostly from you both being so tired by the time you finally got in bed. Passing out on each other had more been the norm the past couple weeks. “We get some food in you, and see where things go?”
“Gross! Get a room!”
You startled at the sudden shouting, having wholly thought yourselves alone up here in the moonlight.
Peter rolled his eyes, yelling back at Russell, “Kid, we have one! And we’d already be back there by now if it wasn’t for your little mafia hunting shenanigans!”
You looked over to see Deadpool and Russell both standing in the doorway to the parking garage stairs.
Wade whistled, leaning back against the doorframe. “Way to take down that Marcia Fletcher a notch! I always found her too uppity to be honest. I think she’s still butt hurt that they didn’t give her the lead anchor spot when Carl Sanderson moved to the early bird morning show. Tanya Meyer on the 5:00 news though, that’s my girl.”
You blinked. “How...how do you know-” It was literally minutes ago, it would have taken them just this long to walk here.
Deadpool lifted up his cell phone. “Facebook live, bitches. Don’t you follow WAFN? The recipes they post from Saturday morning cooking with Pat are always delish.” He looked back down at the phone though, happily reading. “Hah! Peggy Fredrickson from Brewster, New York thinks Marcia’s contouring and drawn on eyebrows are getting worse. Fire your makeup person, Marcia.” He tapped something on the screen. “Like comment! Oh, and Michael Morris from Ridgefield says who wouldn’t do Remy LeBeau. Damn, Michael, all out and proud on main.”
Peter let go of you, taking an annoyed breath. But then looking back to you. “Please let me at least prank Remy, something, anything.”
“But he didn’t do anything.” You replied, though only more stressed now that this was already blowing up on social media.
“Exactly! He should have at least denied it! But no, Mr. cool Cajun can’t admit that you’d actually choose me over him.”
“Hey now, I think you’re looking at this the wrong way, Quickie.” Deadpool interjected. “There’s always the ménage à trois option. I mean he’s French right? And Michael from Ridgefield is just spitting truth. Who wouldn’t want to do Remy LeBeau? He could shuffle my cards anytime.”
“You guys are so fucking weird.” Russell groaned. “Can we go find your damn car now?”
But you didn’t move yet, still looking fully at Peter. “Wade’s just trying to get under your skin. We all know how Remy is. He’d flirt with a piece of cardboard if it suited him. It doesn’t mean anything to him.” You recognized that Gambit was physically attractive of course, you had eyes too after all. But that was the only extent of it. You loved Peter. Not to mention you wouldn’t at all want to get on Rogue’s bad side. She and Gambit were tumultuous enough without someone else being added to the mix.
“This is adorable, really. But I did bring ‘good job team for sending a little girl selling, gentrification funding, pencil dick mob boss to butt fucking federal prison’ cannolis. Want some?” Deadpool offered, lifting up a large takeout box you somehow hadn’t noticed before.
Peter’s shoulders dropped a little, still heavily annoyed though eyeing the box. “So does this mean you’re coming back with us too?”
Wade shrugged, “The kid doesn’t know you guys. What kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t at least go and make sure he actually wanted to stay in your little mutant commune before I ditch him there?”
“You aren’t my damned dad.” Russell said, though almost sounding too tired to argue further at this point. He reached up, taking a cannoli from the box and biting into it as he started to walk back down the stairwell. “What floor is the car on?”
“Just one down from here, you already passed it. Black SUV,” you answered. Colossus and Kitty must not have been here yet if Wade and Russell had made it all the way to the top deck without finding them.
Peter grabbed your hand again, walking with you to the doorway as he grabbed three cannolis out the box begrudgingly with his other hand. He passed one off to you, before biting into the other two in quick succession.
And you only had a moment to see all the thick scarring under Wade’s mask as he lifted it just enough to start eating one himself, before turning to follow you both out and down the stairwell.
———————————
(Concluded in Part 2 here)
#quicksilver x y/n#quicksilver x you#quicksilver x reader#quicksilver x oc#quicksilver xmen#quicksilver#pietro maximoff x y/n#pietro maximoff x you#pietro maximoff x oc#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff#deadpool#shadowcat#colossus#kitty pryde#x men#x men x reader#xmen fanfiction#xmen fic#x men fanfiction#xmen#peter rasputin#marvel fic#marvel fanfiction
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Too Late: Gabriel Agreste (commission for miner249er)
Third chapter of @miner249er ‘s commission
Chapter Summary: Gabriel’s thoughts and time at the hospital
Previous Work
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The sterile smell of the air, the beeps of machines and muted conversations were Gabriel Agreste’s new normal and it absolutely killed him. Every move of his body was pain, even blinking seemed to bring him some amount of it, no matter how small. He could hear the TV in his hospital room, he cast it the briefest glance and grimaced when he saw it was the TVi News with Nadja Chamack. At first he paid it no mind but when he heard his name he became more alert. With his good arm he patted around for the remote until he finally felt it and quickly turned up the volume. There was no holding back his growl when he saw Alec Cataldi speaking about the “rumor” of him and Nathalie being Paris’s local villains. His hand twitched with the need to find his phone and call up his lawyers but even he knew how it would look.
Suing Alec Cataldi and TVi Studios off of a rumor? Yeah that would just make things worse. His lawyers had already done so much with making sure that that’s all that stuck was rumors. No one could prove him and Nathalie were Hawkmoth and Mayura but there were so many goddamn “coincidences” that made sure that the rumors would not go away anytime soon. They would haunt him for as long as he lived and that was his fault. He thought akumatizing Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the best thing he had accomplished. In some ways it was, because he just so happened to akumatize Ladybug. He thought he had everything in the bag. Victory had been so close, he could practically taste it on his tongue.
Then she strayed. At first he didn’t notice, it was like every other akuma, she wanted revenge. She said so. So, being a generous person, he allowed her to go after her craved revenge before he asked for the Ladybug and Cat Miraculi. Gabriel never imagined her revenge included him and Nathalie, he had never felt any resentment towards him when they first linked, but then it was like she could shut him out of her mind. Out of her thoughts. Some part of him knew it had to do with all his missing butterflies, but a bigger part was screaming about how close he was to getting what he wanted. They were well and truly blindsided.
The Protector has come in so fast it was almost inhuman, which maybe he should have expected seeing as when he akumatized people he enhanced their abilities while also giving them some kind of power. None of his alarms went off. Nothing suggested danger. Even when Nathalie had gone to check the security cameras and check news coverage to track his akuma, she hadn’t noticed. He certainly couldn’t blame her for what transpired. No, that felt like the universe telling him it was done putting up with his bullshit. Nooroo had always told him that abusing the Miraculous the way he did would come back to him, distantly he would worry about what it meant, he hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng was to be his masterpiece. He had always sensed her emotions, her anger, her sadness, they were always so strong and held so much potential. Yet, every time he had sent out an akuma for her, her emotions vanished so he would have to find a new target. It had been so infuriating each and every time, and then a miracle happened. Her emotions seemed to be too big to control this time, of course he knew it most likely had to do with Mlle Rossi since she was doing her damndest to convince him she was a negative influence on his son. Of course he pretended to believe every lie she spouted about the girl, there was no ounce of guilt, he just looked forward to the future akuma.
He regretted it. He regretted it so much. Gabriel frowned when he felt a tear fall, he hated feeling weak, always had. Thankfully no one was in the room to witness the rare moment of weakness. He had only cried in front of one person and that had been Emilie, but even she was guarded when she spoke to him now. Not that he didn’t understand her anger at him and Nathalie, but he wished she would forgive him and just be there for him. He needed his wife. Currently though, she was still mad and disappointed at him. He tried to explain that he did everything for her and their family so they could be happy again, but it had ultimately fallen short.
She hadn’t wanted his “excuses,” and really he could understand, or try to. When she awoke it wasn’t to a welcoming she may have expected if she had ever expected one from the beginning, Emilie came back to police tape all over their house and reporters stalking the front for a story like vultures. They pounced and the rumors grew. His missing wife just so happened to stumble out of their house after he and Nathalie were rushed to the hospital. Of course Emilie heard the rumors, when she felt like talking to him she had come and demanded answers and really, there was no way he could lie to her and he hadn’t ever planned to. Gabriel had just never expected to have to tell his wife he had maybe terrorized Paris and fought against a child, maybe two, one of which was quite possibly their own child.
He thought she would leave him, it terrified him, haunted his every waking moment. That thought hurt worse than everything the Protector did to him in the name of justice. Gabriel didn’t want to think anymore so he decided to just tune into the news once more and hope they were past speaking about him. “We have a video of The Protector going into the Agreste Mansion and after a period of time, leaving. Now we don’t know what happened inside but hours later we had you and your team there at the mansion along with other news stations when M Agreste and his assistant Mlle Nathalie Sancoeur were brought out of the mansion on stretchers. Then not long after, in your words,’ a dazed Mme Agreste was spotted coming out of the house.’ That was after the police search!”
Guess he hoped for too much. He groaned and looked away from the screen and resolved to just stare at his heart monitor. He blamed his private nurses for putting the TV on the news because he had no recollection of changing the channel to the news before he had been given his daily dose of morphine and had taken his small nap. Some small part of him told him they did it on purpose, that they knew what Nadja and Alec were going to be reporting on and put the show on purely to annoy and torture him. Even if his team of lawyers made sure no charges could stick to him or Nathalie, the stink of the allegations and rumors lingered.
He could see it in the way other nurses would speed walk past his room. Could see it in the way his bodyguards would flinch when he would speak to them or ask them to do something when they weren’t guarding his door. It was behind the smiles his doctor would give him during his vitals checks. It was carried in the air of the whispers of those who passed and hoped he didn’t hear them speaking. Some didn’t care if he heard and would loudly speak of his villain side full of contempt and poorly held anger. He saw it in the way the hospital wing counselor, yes each wing had a counselor apparently, would leave a pamphlet about their group therapy. Not just any group therapy, akuma victims, whether it be turned into akumas or directly targeted by akumas, you were encouraged to join. Since he and Nathalie were “for some odd reason” targeted by the Protector even when they said it was a random attack not done by the akuma, they were heavily encouraged to join in. Even if it meant they had to be wheeled in on wheelchairs.
Gabriel did not need that. He absolutely did not. There was no way he was going to sit in a room full of people he had akumatized and listen to how he ruined their lives. He had an imagination, he had a pretty good idea how royally he screwed up. Though he hadn’t known it at first, he hadn’t even thought of it when Nathalie and him were on their way to the hospital. Pain wasn’t on his mind, no, it was anger. He had been furious that his plan had backfired so spectacularly, and he immediately started planning on revenge. There was no realization, there was no sympathy, not until he heard the news. When the police had been investigating his house for any signs of the “intruder” Emilie had stumbled out from the “basement.”
It was then and only then that Gabriel realized what he had done. Everything he had done, terrorizing-because really, that is what he did-Paris, made everyone live in a constant state of emotional staleness that was now exploding in uncontrolled fits of tears and yelling, and what for? Absolutely nothing. Emilie hadn’t needed him to go on some crazed vengeful mission like he had believed. There was no need for him to don the Butterfly Brooch and be the “madman” everyone knew as Hawkmoth. The name they still whispered about whether consciously or subconsciously when having a breakdown or feeling even the slightest bit upset. There was no need for him to involve Nathalie and make her wear the very same damaged Miraculous that he believed had taken his wife from him. Yet he did. His assistant, no, his dear friend was paying that price now because of him.
Nathalie. He hadn’t even seen her since their admittance into the hospital. Of course he asked how she was doing but doctors were vague and nurses were worse because they would change the subject or stay quiet and you knew. You knew the person you asked about wasn’t doing as well as you had hoped. Distantly he knew what he was doing to everyone in Paris, he somewhat acknowledged the damage he had done but nothing prepared him for the guilt that ate at him for what had happened to Nathalie. It would seem as though Emilie held some ill will towards him because of it as well. When she came and he asked how she was doing, his wife would only respond with, “How do you think Gabriel?” and nothing else. Gabriel desperately wanted to know but it was like everyone in the hospital made some odd pact to never inform him and it was driving him mad. He had just wanted his wife back. His old life back.
Now he had a wife back who, while still staying with him was determined to show him how wrong he had been. Gabriel didn’t know what part of everything she was more mad at (maybe it was the emotionally distancing himself from their only child and leaving said child to fend for himself in a social world that he knew nothing about) but he would do anything to make her happy. Though she was not letting him in, she was there physically but she had closed herself off emotionally at the moment and really, could Gabriel blame her? No but that didn’t make the heartache hurt any less when she wouldn’t smile at him, when she would only come for an hour or two at most instead of the full visiting hours like she once did when he had been in a car crash when they first married. She had visited everyday and had snuck in his favorite snacks because she knew he hated the hospital food.
When she visited she brought him pastries from Tom & Sabine’s and every time it was like more salt added to his wounds. Like she was doing it on purpose to punish him in her own little ways. Emilie would still sit by his side and hold his hand, but her smile was fake, it was fake coming in and it was fake leaving, and the hand around his heart would grip harder the more he saw it. She would of course be visiting today and though Gabriel always loved to see her, he didn’t know if he could handle her emotionless smiles. Not when his pain was throbbing both physically and emotionally. Usually he could ignore the looks, the whispers, and just about everything else, but today he felt unnaturally raw.
“Oh you’re awake. Good afternoon.” That was Emilie’s voice.
Gabriel turned and saw her standing in the doorway. “Hello Love.” He winced at how hoarse his voice sounded.
Immediately Emilie went to his side table and poured him a cup of water which he gratefully took. “You always seem so surprised when I come. I come everyday Gabriel.”
“Well...It’s just you don’t seem like you want to be here is all. Not that I can blame you but…”
Quiet. He hated when she was quiet. Then she sighed. “It’s not that I don’t Gabriel. I’m just...I’m just so mad. I’m mad that you’re hurt, but I know it’s your fault that you’re hurt in the first place. I’m mad that it’s your fault! I’m mad that you left our son emotionally. I’m mad you got Nathalie involved! But I don’t want to be mad Gabriel. It feels bad to be mad right now because I know you’re in pain. But I also know you. And I know you’re not completely sorry about what you’ve done.”
“Emilie! I am sorry, I really am!” He cried.
“I need more convincing than you just saying it. I’ve been thinking about it and I want you to go to that akuma therapy they have here. Then...and only then do I think we can begin to heal.” She said with such finality that Gabriel had to swallow. It was absolutely the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew Emilie wouldn’t budge, all he could do was nod.
“Thank you,” she murmured, “I know it won’t be easy, but I think this will be good for you, for us.”
“You might be the only one who thinks so.”
“Adrien thinks so too.”
“You’ve spoken to him?” Gabriel asked, and maybe it was a bit desperate but his son hadn’t visited him once.
“Yes. He’s not ready to see you yet…” Emilie admitted as she looked down at her hands. “He barely started visiting Nathalie.”
He had visited Nathalie!? But not him. Not his father. No he couldn’t be mad at him, not after everything he put his son through, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt. That didn’t mean he wasn’t blinking back tears. His own son didn’t want to see him. God, what did that say about him? About everything? Nothing good if he put thought into it so he resolved to do the opposite and just avoid the thoughts until they took him by surprise. If he thought Emilie’s anger was bad, he could only imagine Adrien’s, he had never seen his son mad. He had never allowed him the pleasure of emotions before, and seeing how everyone’s little emotions resulted in meltdowns, he feared what his son’s repressed emotions would look like.
And really Adrien had a lot to be angry about. Number 1 being that he was Chat Noir, part of Paris’s dynamic superhero duo, and his father was Hawkmoth the villain he was fighting and had to stop. Yeah, there was much to be mad about. “How is he?” He settled on asking.
“I’m not going to lie to you Gabriel, he’s not okay. Our baby is hurting,” the because of you was implied but unsaid, “his friend is still missing, his friends are all having mental episodes over some Lila girl and everything that has gone down, and he is still having to deal with the fact that people talk. Plus I mean it’s not everyday you find out your dad is a supervillain, one you were supposedly fighting.”
He couldn’t hold back the wince. “Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”
“Honestly? I don’t know Honey,” even though his heart sang at the term of endearment it also broke a bit, “I want to say yes, but I just don’t know.”
“We’ll just have to see I suppose. You should go check on Nathalie, Dear. I am feeling tired,” it was a lie, or was it? He was exhausted but whether that be because of his body being in pain or because his emotions were everywhere was anyone’s guess. “I’ll see you tomorrow though yes?”
“Yes. Yes of course. I’ll bring some Eiffel Apple Bon Bons, I know you probably haven’t had any in a while.” She still remembered his favorite candies.
“That would be lovely, thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too Gabriel. We’ll...We’ll get through this.” Will we? He watched as she walked out and even after that just stared at the door. He was really going to go to that akuma therapy...for the first time in a long time, Gabriel was scared. Scared if everyone would whisper or would they make the animosity toward him known? But the thing he was the most terrified of? He was terrified of what he would hear there in the group therapy. He didn’t know if he would be strong enough to listen.
The TV ripped him from his thoughts and he almost gave it thanks. “I don’t think I have to remind everyone just what Hawkmoth has done to this great city, to its people. From babies to the elderly, from the smallest of things to the most emotional moments of our lives, they have all been prey to him. One has to wonder if he had a heart at all. And if he did, I have to ask, was it worth it? Was it worth it Hawkmoth? This has been Alec Cataldi.”
“And Nadja Chamack.”
“And we are signing off, see you next time Paris.” The two hosts said in unison.
Almost.
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir#ml salt#gabriel agreste#emilie agreste#nathalie sancoeur#nadja chamack#alec cataldi#gabriel agreste salt#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#angsty thoughts for Gabriel#revolt of the akuma#goggles commission#gabriel has to face consequences like an adult#and he no likey
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𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖍𝖎𝖒
Shigaraki X f! Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, brainwashed/ programmed reader, implied kidnapping, Dom/sub, use of the word ‘pet’ and ‘master’, first time sex, uh..does this count as yandere..? Idk lol
🔪: this is like my second time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s bad 🙇♀️ plz don’t spank me. N E Wayz I dedicate this fic to @aoi-turtle 🖤 and Any other shiggy whores out there
Edit: I FORGOT TO TAG @dinablossom and @toworuu IM SO SORRY BSVAKAGSJA
Summary: Imagine being programmed to be the leagues healer but also Shigaraki’s little cum bucket
♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎
“Master what is the meaning of this.” Shigaraki looked at the television screen as he scratched his neck. “I took her quirk and made it a thousand times better.” He said simply. “Tomura shigaraki where should I place her?” Kurogiri asked. “Anywhere. I don’t care. I just don’t understand why you brought a stupid hero here.” He said annoyed.
“Now now—“ “Shut up and put her somewhere out of my sight!” Tomura demanded and Kurogiri sighed and carried your body to the spare room by shigaraki’s private quarters. You looked dead, you were exhausted, traumatized, in shock.
You were frozen. Your eyes stayed open, unblinking as you stared at the ceiling. It looked as if you were dead. But your body is warm and you were breathing, you’re alive and you’ll recover quick. Thanks to the quirk All for One fixed for you.
Dabi smirked at your ruined form. Spinner hid his rosy cheeks, you were a cute one. Toga was excited to have another girl in the league she talked with Twice about all the fun things you two could do together. Whether it be painting your nails, doing your hair, torturing someone, or making them bleed. She was excited.
“What’s so good about her quirk that you needed it.” Shigaraki asked. “It’s come to my attention that the league has been missing an important puzzle piece.” He started off. “Yeah? What’s that?” The light blue haired man asked. He was beyond ticked off to have a hero here. “She’s not a hero. She was training under UA’s school nurse. But she fell into the hero course for recovery and first aid training.” He said and everyone stayed silent and patiently listened to the brain behind the league.
“Her quirk is pyrokinetic regeneration. She manipulates fire with the energy of the person who needs healing and together she heals with so called fire. Her quirk was small, only a few cuts a bruises here and there could she heal. But I added cell regeneration so she can even fix up deep wounds that could need surgery in a matter of days instead of months.”
“Sounds amazing! No she could use her fire against us!” Twice said and Toga nodded. “She won’t. Her fire doesn’t burn unless you’re hurt.” Kurogiri returned. “But she’s still a hero brat so wouldn’t she try to resist?” Dabi asked. “I don’t know but let me try and see!” Toga giggled and pulled out a knife she easily slit her wrist and skipped her way to your new room.
Out of curiosity the other members followed suit. Shigaraki first, he wanted to see if you were truly useful if not then he’d disintegrate you right here and now. “Hi hi new friend! My name is Toga!” The psychotic girl giggle as her blood dripped all over the floor. You looked up slowly from your spot on the bed. “H-hi...T-toga..” your voice was low. “Kurogiri Can you bring her some water?” Toga asked and he left and came back in the blink of an eye.
Your hands were shaking for the cup of water but Toga held it back, away from you. “If you want the water then heal my wrist first.” She said sweetly with a giggle. “Heal your wrist?” You whispered and she nodded. “O-okay..” you stuttered and you slowly removed the blanket from your lap. You stood up with wobbly legs to go to the girl but you fell. The chain on your ankle pulled you back. You winced and looked at her, pleading for her to come to you. She asked if you were okay and when you responded she shoved her bloody arm to your face. “Take a deep breath. This may sting...” you started and a small green flame came upon your hand. You rubbed the flame over both of your hands like you were putting on lotion, finally when the flames covered both hands you pressed hard on her wrist. She winced, “ow ow ow.” She whimpered, you removed your hands and everyone stared at the flame around her whole wrist. “Give it thirty seconds....or not...” you said as you stared wide eyed at her already healed cut. It was barley a touch and it’s gone now. “Wow. No scar!” She giggled and turned to show the guys. “Wow stab me next, please don’t or else I’ll bite ya!” Twice said and you reached for the water. “Interesting.” Shigaraki mumbled with a small squint. Kurogiri looked over and hoped he wouldn’t do anything bad to you.
“Shows over. She needs her rest.” Kurogiri said and everyone left one by one. Toga gave her a hug and wished for you both to be the best of friends and she skipped away. “Tomura Shigaraki. What are you thinking?” Kurogiri asked as Shigaraki began to walk into your room. “Nothing that concerns you.” He spat and slammed the door. Kurogiri sighed but returned to the bar nonetheless.
“Do you know who I am?” Shigaraki asked, “Yes you’re the leader of the league of villains, You’re name is Tomura Shigaraki and your quirk is decay—“ “that’s enough!” He raised his voice and looked at you with wide eyes.
You looked so sad and you glanced down at your cup. “Mr. shigaraki I know I don’t usually talk this much. I’ve always been the quiet type. I think whoever kidnapped me gave me a huge sense of knowledge. I know the league is bad but I don’t care about the heroes anymore and I don’t know why. I know everything about you guys, your true identity, your quirks, your past. And when I see you I—“ you quickly stopped yourself.
Shigaraki raised a brow. “You what?” He asked curiously. “N-nothing. Just forget it.” You answered and he growled. “Answer me now before I kill you.” He said and your legs subconsciously clenched together. You stayed quiet and your chest rose and fell a little more quickly. Why was this feeling in your chest when this killer, this man child looked at you? What exactly did the man he calls master do to you?
Before you knew it he gripped your chin and lifted it harshly so you could look at his wrinkly red eyes. Even though he looks like a bum he smelled nice and clean. A hand was covering his face and you slowly lifted your hand to touch it and his other hand grabbed your wrist. “What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish you fucking idiot?” He growled and you gulped. “C-can i see your face?” You asked and he tilted his head confused.
“No. Answer my question-“ before you both knew it, as if your body had a mind of its own you tackled shigaraki down and you snatched the hand off his face. His hand quickly wrapped around your neck and arm and you pressed your lips against his. He halted his finger from pressing against your neck. He was beyond confused.
“If only tomura finished listening to what i had to say.” All for one chuckled loudly. You both were able to faintly hear the television from down the hall. “He would know that I managed to change y/N’s desires and whole way of thinking. She’s now with the league of Villains and she’s in love with its leader, Tomura Shigaraki. Consider it a present and motivation for the future of the league.” You both heard and you pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.” You said lowly. He stood there stunned and silent.
He slowly sat up and looked at your figure. “So you were brainwashed like my Nomu.” He hummed and took a few steps back. He noticed how you crawled closer to him but the chain was keeping you away.
“Who do you love?”
“You.”
“Who do you belong to?”
“You.”
“Who’s your master?”
“Tomura Shigaraki.”
You said and he smirked. He was gonna have fun with you. “At least master was kind enough to give me a beauty.” He said as he held on to the chains. “Don’t freak out.” He warned and you nodded. He disintegrated the chain around your ankle and he pulled you by the arm. You were wearing an ugly hospital gown and you were barefoot. You couldn’t help but shiver. He went next door to his room and he shoved you in and slammed the door. You nearly tripped over the mess and you turned to look at shiggy. “Why are you just standing there?” He asked, “You haven’t given me orders.” You deadpanned. “You can’t think for yourself?” He questioned. “No i can but I Don’t want to upset you.” You replied.
“Fine then clean this shit up.” He referred to his very very messy room. You nodded and began to lift up a piece of trash but he pulled you away. “Change first.” He said and handed you a black hoodie. “Do you have a bathroom?” You asked. “No change here.” He said and you nodded. You turned so your back was facing him and carefully began to take off the gown, leaving you completely bare and Shigaraki couldn’t help but look.
Your skin was so beautiful and looked so soft. He saw as you carefully put on his hoodie and it completely engulfed you. It reached to your mid thigh. You slowly turned to look at him with rosy cheeks. The hoodie smelled just like him. “Tomura—“ “It’s master to you.” He Interrupted and you nodded, subconsciously squeezing your thighs together once more. “Sorry...m-master.” You said and played with the hem of his hoodie.
“Master..can I have some underwear too...? I feel weird, when I’m bare underneath..” you asked. “No, continue cleaning my room.” He answered coldly and sat on his gaming chair. He turned on his console and began playing whatever game he had.
You sighed and you couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous yet scarred face and his beautiful long fingers. In an instant he can kill you, but if you’re good..then he might even reward you. If you were to die, I’d rather be in the hands of your master than anyone else.
You quickly began you pick up the instant ramen bowls and bags of chips. You separated recycling and trash. You even managed to pick up all his dirty clothes and put it in the hamper in less than an hour. Tomura was stunned, one minute he can barley walk in, the next It’s almost spotless. He saw you from the corner of his eye, you were folding his clothes that practically had the same color scheme.
“Can i go through your drawers to put your clothes away..?” You finally spoke up. “Yeah it’s whatever. I don’t care.” He mumbled and returned to the screen. “Ugh stupid game!” He huffed and began pressing the controller more furiously. You chuckled and thought that it was so cute and adorable when he was frustrated.
You went to his California king sized bed and began to fix the sheets and make his bed. Since it was so huge, you had to climb on to properly fix it. You were completely in your own world when Shigaraki turned and saw your wet cunt on display in all it’s glory. Ever since he saw you he couldn’t help but feel that urge to take you. His resistance was getting to him and now he wanted to give in to his urges even more. He was too distracted that he lost the fucking game and he growled and disintegrated the controller. That was his own form of rage quitting.
You heard his sound of frustration so when you turned you expected him to be in the same chair uttering bullshit, but you were shocked when you felt your hips being pulled back. Your cunt was touching his pants, but you can feel his bulge. “Um..master..I—“
“Shut up.” He said and reached for your neck. He pulled you back to him and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hovering your aching clit. “This is whats gonna happen.” He started off and you nodded. “I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to like it. Okay?”
“I understand.” You said softly, you felt his hands slowly lift up the hoodie just a bit to get a better view of your ass. You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. “I know I’m probably not your dream girl but I promise to be a good girl, master..” your voice shook. He tilted his head, were you getting insecure?
“No pet, you’re perfect to me.” He assured and you could hear his belt jingle as he took it off. “You seem pretty wet already, pet. Since how long have you been like this?” He asked as he got out of his jeans. He slowly open your cheeks to reveal your little pussy clenching around nothing, how cute. “Since I saw you..” you mumbled. He smirked and leaned down. He immediately began to eat out your cunt causing you to gasp in shock and grip the sheets. Your chest layed roughly against the bed as your ass stood proud in the air for the leader of the league of villains to enjoy.
“Fuck—“ you moaned and you felt a slap on your ass. You slightly jumped released a small yelp. “Watch your language.” He growled from your pussy. “Yes master.” You whimpered and he slowly began to rub his thumb on your other hole. Your small moans filled the room and he easily slipped his middle finger in you. You squeezed around him so deliciously, he couldn’t help but wished his cock was inside.
This has never happened to him before, this feeling in his chest. Someone that loves him and will obey his every command. You’re so beautiful as well, and your sounds. Your moans and whimpers, in all honesty he jut wanted to get himself off. But after hearing you and seeing you. He wants to make sure you have pleasure as well.
He continued pumping his finger in and out of your slick walls and your voice started getting slightly higher. “Master...I—I’m gonna cum...”you panted and your toes began to curl. “It’s okay, cum for me, pet. You’ve been a good girl.” He said softly and he felt you clench around his finger. When you came he slowly removed his finger and examined it. You must be new to is if you could get off with just one of his long fingers.
You layed on the bed a bit tired, not paying attention to your master who had tasted your cum on his finger. It was delicious and he wanted another taste. When you felt a lick on your cunt again you immediately shivered and clenched your thighs. “Hold still I just wanna taste some cum.” Shigaraki huffed and he pulled your thighs apart. You were pretty sensitive but you obeyed nonetheless.
You moans began to fill the room once more and before you could finish and cum again he pulled away. You automatically whimpered and turned to give your master puppy dog eyes. “I would let you cum again, but my cock is so fucking hard I don’t think I can wait another minute.” he said and began to pull down his boxers.
Before you could get back in position, which freaking hurt, he flipped you over on your back and you made a small oof noise. You looked up to See shigaraki focused on his cock, he was rubbing himself up and down your slit to use your cum as lube. “Alright I’m going in.” He announced and slowly pushed his rather large member inside your tint cunt. You immediately yelped and held on to his biceps. “M-master wait—it hurts..” you pleaded and Tomura finally looked up at your face.
He loves inflicting pain, he loves watching people’s painful expressions when they’re hurt or when they’re gonna die. Chisaki’s face was so amusing. But when he saw yours, his heart shattered and he didn’t want to hurt you at all. You’ve been nothing but good to him, he doesn’t want to hurt his little toy. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “it’s okay..” you sniffled. After a minute of him being patient you gave him a nod and he continued to slowly bottom out.
You both released a moan when he was all the way in. You both have never felt anything like this before. “Can I start moving?” Shigaraki asked you as he brushed way the hair from your face. You nodded and he pulled almost all the way out and he slammed back in. Your little gasps and moans came back which made shigaraki feel at ease. You can clearly hear your slick with every thrust and it was music to his ears.
“I’ve been neglecting these.” He grunted and lifted his hoodie over your chest. Finally he was able to see your beautiful soft breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He moaned and immediately lowered his mouth to one of your nipples. You squealed and your back arched and he pushed you down. “Master...” you moaned softly. His tongue swirled around your hardened bud and your fingers tangled in his light blue hair. Two of his fingers pinched your other nipple and he lightly bit the nipple in his mouth.
“I think I-I’m close—“ you gasped and he removed his mouth. His thrusts decreased in speed but they became harder. He had a stupid smirk on his face and your eyes widened when he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Hold it until I say so.” He demanded and you muttered a weak yes. He felt how your gummy walls squeezed against his large dick, he was getting close too. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He groaned with his head tilted back and your mouth watered at the sight. Why is he so fucking handsome?
He could feel himself getting closer to his climax so he rubbed his thumb on you clit while increasing his pace once more, causing you to be even louder than before. Everyone in the bar could hear and a certain fire villian grumbled in annoyance. “Master I can’t hold it anymore!” You screamed. “Then cum my stupid little pet. Cum all over my cock like a good girl.” He grunted and bit his lip at the sight of your sweaty body. Your bouncing breasts, crazy hair, your adorable ahego face, your twitching legs and finally your grip on his biceps. You were so prefect and so good to him and only him.
When you came you felt his cum shoot inside you as well causing you to gasp at the delicious feeling. Tomura rested his head on your shoulder and tried catching his breath. You couldn’t help but smile and blush at the closeness. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and you gave his shoulder a kiss causing him to freeze. “I love you master, thank you for making me feel good.” You said softly. He chuckled and pulled you closer, “I love you too.”
I wanna write a part 2 of Shiggy finding out his little toy is being used by a certain fire boy 👀
#tomura shigaraki#shigaraki smut#league of villains#my hero academia#yandere shigaraki#smut#[🏌️♀️🔪.yandere]
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The Shadow of the Night
(Happy Birthday @pebster! I hope this adds to the celebration very well! Damn it’s been awhile since I’ve done one of these hasn’t it? Life gets in the way, new hyperfixations, Tumblr constantly killing itself, same old and same old. Well I feel like I’ve written a lot from other sources so why not return to my first MMORPG with a bang! Tyrande VS Sylvanas! Night Warrior vs Banshee Queen! Personally I didn’t much care for the cinematic, looked nice but I’ve long since given up on Blizzard actually doing good with their characters. That aside, my personal thoughts on WoW deserves it’s own separate post and shouldn’t be here where I gift an old muse and friend of mine something she’s probably been wanting for a long time. So without further adieu, I hope you enjoy!)
Ciradel lunges forward with her moon blades ready, her Elven weapons focused on their mark and their serrated edges threatened to rend the Banshee’s neck wide open! Suddenly she feels a shadow over take her chest before a sudden force smashed into her chest and sent her hurdling back! Her back slams into the ground, the force shaking her to her very core as she tried to pull herself back up. The Warden could barely catch her breath from such an attack yet willed herself back on her feet. Her fellow wardens were trapped in the midst of battle with the Jailer’s forces, and only she could delay Sylvanas from completing her ritual at that moment.
“Damn it!” She curses, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth quickly as she coughed some up in her helmet. Her hands rested over her chest and felt the overall damage. A cracked breastplate would explain why some of her ribs feel almost like dust now. Ciradel tried to regain focus, focusing on her stance again before drawing her moon blade again. Her breathing was ragged but as a Warden of Elune she must fulfill her duty before death!
Sylvanas simply took a glance at her before refocusing on the ritual once more, her attentions better spent on something far more important than Elune’s attack dog.
The Warden tried to move but found herself stumbling too much and ultimately fell to her knees. She tears off her helmet and coughs loudly while sucking in as much air as she could. Her hands gripped the grass beneath her and watched it slowly change colors from teal to black and grey. She felt the plants wither in her gauntlets and further inspection shows it all but ash in her hands. The sight of it, the smell of death that now permeated the air, it flashed images of her home before her eyes. The devastation brought on by the War of Thorn and the burning of Teldrassil ran before her very eyes. The faint screams and dying flames filling her minds and dulling her hearing before ultimately succumbing to the crushing weight of despair upon her shoulders.
“Poor lost soldier...” Sylvanas says, lowering herself to the ground and standing over Ciradel with a slight smirk on her face. “So hard you have fought for kin and nation, to stand for Elune only to watch her leave you to your fate. It reminds me so much of an old life I once had.”
Ciradel looks up, but not with a face of fear or intense grief, she stares up defiantly to Sylvanas. Tears running down her cheek as her blood stained teeth gritted as she stares into the Banshee Queen’s scarlet eyes. “I do not fear you, banshee! Kill me and raise my body if you wish, but my mind and soul belongs to the Kaldorei! I will not forsake my people as you have yours!”
That smirk faded, and a dark look overcame the Banshee’s face before drawing her bow. “Then die braver than most, Warden.”
Ciradel prepared for the arrow to make it’s mark, and muttered her prayers before feeling something yank her from her armor collar with such a sheer force of speed that she had thought it teleportation! She quickly gathers herself and the situation, seeing the Banshee Queen almost yards away from where she originally was only centimeters from here the arrow was pointed at her head!
Then, she saw her.
High Priestess of Elune: Tyrande Whisperwind.
The woman who brought back the Night Warriors to the Night Elves after their darkest hour, the one to have stood against Azshara when she sought to bring Sargeras to the world, and the woman who lead the Night Elves through the many wars and battles Azeroth has had over countless centuries. She stood over Ciradel, almost a towering presence now with the powers of the Night Warrior changed her appearance more now. A moon hovered above her head like a halo, as the markings she had received from her transformation now dazzled like stars upon a night sky, and runes of azure blue glowed across her arms and legs as she held her glaive in her other hand.
She let go of the warden, and gave it a wave and suddenly Ciradel felt her body completely healed of all it’s wounds! She looks up to Tyrande, whose black eyes stared at Sylvanas with a hatred rivaled only by Maev’s loathing of Illidan and of the Xaxa’s himself!
“Go.” She said to Ciradel, treating it less like a demand and more like something she was supposed to do, “Aid the others with repelling these deathless mongrels from these lands. Sylvanas is mine to rend justice upon.”
The Warden looked between the two, feeling these two near demigods were about to engage had her prepared to leave. She stood up quick and looked to Tyrande a final time. “Shaha lor’ma, Tyrande. Elune-Adore, an Andu-Falah-Dor!” Ciradel fled the scene to return to the other Wardens at the battle, leaving those two alone to their battle.
(Darnassian: ”Thank you, Tyrande. Elune be with you, and let the balance be restored!”)
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The tension in the air was thick enough to cut it with an axe, the two Elves who walked the path of vengeance were faced to face once more. Their previous fight back on Azeroth, where Tyrande had caught up to Sylvanas was interrupted and left unfinished until now. The peerless void filled eyes glared towards Sylvanas, returning the stare with a scowl as the memory of their last fight still burned in her mind.
“So. You found me once again. Did you wish for an award of some kind?” Sylvanas starts, opening her hands and closing them around twin shortswords of Quel’dorei design now warped to reflecting her darker attire now.
Tyrande took out her other Glaive from behind her, and did not hesitate with her answer. “Your head.”
Sylvanas nodded, removing her cloak and tossing it aside and shaked her head free of her cowl before smugly responding to her hunter: “Then come and try.”
Tyrande lunged forward, slamming her galives against Sylavanas’s blades and used her weight to swing the other blade at the banshee’s arm. Sylvanas quickly ducked beneath the swing and pulled her blades down with her and moved in to stab Tyrande in her gut but watched her swing herself out of the way for another slash to the Banshee Queen!
The two Elves were caught in a dance of blades and swords, each moving to a different tune and song of battle and war. Tyrande heard and felt the drums of the Kaldorei beat and boom as thunder inside her mind as she swung and spun herself with the weight of her blades and body against Sylvanas. The Banshee however felt the solemn sounds of a lute strummed and played louder and quicker within her, her parry’s and dodges and counters constantly keeping the other on their toes the entire fight. Neither dared to use their magic for this fight, as this was an almost ritualistic tradition that both Elven women of their races held close to their heart. With every swing that cuts the Banshee, the Priestess felt a stab to the exposed flesh of her armor. With every missed slash of the short swords came the near death experience of the magical glaives coming towards her neck. While the music within them played to different tones and themes, it was the same song that began to control their movements in an almost entranced way.
It ultimately ended when Sylvanas pierced Tyrande’s midsection with her blades, watching the woman drop her weapons from over her head to the ground. It was over.
Sylvanas won.
That is, until Tyrande gripped her fists together and swung a hammerfist across the Quel’dorei’s face! Sylvanas immediately stumbled backwards from the sheer force of the swing before forced to stop when Tyrande stomped her foot down on top of hers and swung a right hook across her face! She pulled her arms up to guard her face from the next punch, but felt an uppercut to her gut nearly shook her entire armor!
Sylvanas forced her foot free, and quickly side stepped the next punch and quickly backed away from the Night Elf to formulate a counter. Unfortunately Tyrande was on top of her the entire time and refused to give her a moment of rest. The next swing slammed into a tree and the bark practically exploded off from the force of the punch! Her knuckles bloodied from the swing, she gritted her teeth towards Sylvanas who used her new powers to bind Tyrande in shadowy chains long enough to catch her breath. In that moment, she realized that the Night Elf still had her swords firmly implanted into her gut! Before anything else could be discovered, a beam of light blasted down from the sky and blasted the Banshee onto the ground! She rolled onto her knees, snapping her fingers as the swords faded away and her bow was summoned into her hands. She quickly took pot shots at Tyrande, who now dashed to grab her Glaives from the ground. She was quick enough to dodge most of the arrows but felt one firmly implanted itself into her shoulder! She let out a quick groan before rolling for her weapons and quickly wielded them to block the next volley of arrows and slashed one in half before charging at her once more.
Sylvanas quickly realized the position she’d be in again if Tyrande was to close the gap again, and transformed into her banshee form to fly out of reach! Just as she turned to fire a shot at the Night Warrior, she saw Tyrande had blasted herself at Sylvanas with a mighty leap and slammed herself into the other Elf and the two came crashing back down to the ground below!
The air around them swirled with a blackish blue dust cloud, before it revealed Tyrande having impaled Sylvanas in her shoulders. Tyrande pinning her as the markings slowly faded, having expended much of her power to healing the stab wounds in her gut and that powerful leap. She kept herself over the Banshee by kneeling over her midrift. The Quel’dorei groaned in pain as she struggled to fight the Night Warrior off her body.
Tyrande leaned close to the pained expression of Sylvanas with a calm fury over her face, before speaking to her in a cold tone: “For Teldrassil, and Elune’s mercy be upon you.”
She pulled her glaive’s out from Sylvanas’s Shoulders, and impaled her in the chest with her weapons! The Banshee cried out, her hands trying to pull the blades out of her body while cutting her hands on the harsh steel of the blades. This pain forcing her to remember her final moments alive at the hands of Arthas all those years ago, forcing a boiling rage to swell within her at being reminded of such a hated memory. Her head rolled back as the pain shot through her body, her eyes burning with fury and pain as she looked back at the one who had done this to her.
In her eyes, she saw no joy nor satisfaction in this act. There was no pleasure in this act of vengeance. No glee or pride found in the Priestess’s eyes. Instead, she saw only pity. She almost saw a hint of regret behind her cold glare, as if she wished she didn’t have to end this life.
Sylvanas breathed heavily, her breathing ragged as she looked at the Night Warrior who kept the blades embedded into her body. She smirked up to the woman, feeling her blood escaping from her mouth.
“I... I suppose this is wh... where you take my head then? Well go on. Your trophy need only a swipe to claim. Ash karath, Tyrande Whisperwind.”
(Darnassian: “Do it, Tyrande Whisperwind.”)
Tyrande pulls a glaive out from her chest, and raised it over her shoulder. She looked down and took a deep breath, “Selama Ashal’anore.”
(Thalassian: “Justice for our people.”)
Just as she swung down, just before her blade could meet the banshee’s neck, she was interrupted by the Jailer’s minions and slammed off Sylvanas. She was pulled away, as the invading forces retreated and left Tyrande behind. She tossed her Glaive at them, but missed as they were too out of range for her. She watched them get further and further away, her breathing quickening as her anger soon boiled over, and she released a blood curdling scream as loud as she could that echoed across the realm!
Tyrande had won, but failed to finish off Sylvanas this time.
(Author’s note: I know, I know, I know, this is a shitty ending. Look we all want Tyrande to put down Sylvanas after all the shit that had happened between them. Hell, I’m hoping they duke it out and the cinematic gets the animation of Saurfang V Sylvanas! But for now, until we get to see where the story goes, she gotta stay alive. Still, I hope you still enjoyed this fic and hope you have a wonderful birthday Pebs.)
#pebster#pebe-art#pebsterino#Tyrande#Tyrande Whisperwind#Lady Sylvanas#Sylvanas#Sylvanas Windrunner#world of warcraft#WoW#Shadowlands#World of Warcraft Shadowlands#not my art#my writing#canon characters#Ciradel#not my character#zakthefiend
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Rotten
Pairing: Steve Rogers x princess!Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, captivity, forced marriage, brief mention of child abuse, allusion to death of minor characters.
Words: 3950.
Summary: "The princess will marry the very first beggar who comes to the castle gates," the King said.
P.S. This was inspired by König Drosselbart fairytale.
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Staring at the enormously huge black gates separating the castle from the outer world, you pulled the grey cloth over your head, covering your beautiful shiny hair. Before this morning you wore a tiara of your mother, and your dresses were made from brocade, silk and cashmere, not this rough wool that itched so badly and irritated your gentle skin. But now the only posession you were allowed to keep was that little cameo of your mother laying in the pocket of your simple grey dress.
The princess is obstinate, capricious, the King said. She thinks too high of herself. She rejects and ridicules all honourable men coming to ask for her hand in marriage. She is rotten to the core. She doesn't deserve to be the crown princess of the kingdom.
Locked away, abandoned by your teachers, refused to be engaged to any decent prince or lord, you were kept confined to your chamber for several years. Occasionally, you were allowed to visit the celebrations and balls held in the castle only to be laughed at your lack of manners and education by the children of the King and their entourage. You considered them your friends once, but those times had long passed.
You were the only child of the Queen, the true ruler of these lands, who got married the second time after an unfortunate death of her first husband, your father. She didn't give the new King an heir, but he had a handful of his own children from his past marriages. All of them, except his oldest one who stayed to rule the country of his father under the watchful eye of royal advisors, were brought to your kingdom. They are your sisters and brothers, the King said.
They were the ones who would take your place once the King found an opportunity to get rid of you, the true successor to the Queen.
All the men who came to ask for your hand were told you had no desire to meet them, and then, after the brief encounter with the King, they were sent away. You watched them, enraged by this unfair treatment, and their corteges to leave in haste, disappearing behind the black gates. You were never allowed to leave your chamber at these times, forced to look out the window at those princes and lords. If only they knew.
"Bow your head in front of your lawfully wedded husband." One of the guards demanded harshly, and you snapped out of your thoughts, looking at the huge man with wide shoulders, dressed in rags, his face hidden by the hood he wore.
The stranger was twice bigger than the guards surrounding you, and you felt rather intimidated in his presence. Despite his dirty clothes and wooden shoes, he didn't look like a beggar to you. If he was truly so poor, how come his body was so big and strong? No, the man wasn't a beggar. He was a bandit.
It would only make sense for the King to get rid of you, but you hoped he would keep his word as he promised to give you to the very first beggar who came to the castle gates. Apparently, he decided against it. The bandit who stood in front of you would either kill you or sell you to a brothel. If he was paid to end you, you hoped he would at least do it fast.
You bowed your head in front of the stranger who was now your husband and moved forward when the guards pushed you to him. The man said nothing, heading to the gates as if he didn't even care whether you followed him or not. Biting your lip, you came after him, watching your ugly wooden shoes.
However, once you stepped behind the gates, you saw there were dozens of people, their clothes dirty, tattered, and heavily patched, their faces grim - many lacked teeth and some even an eye - their expression turning wicked when they saw you coming after the stranger. Who were they? Beggars? Bandits? Villagers? You didn't know, but feared for your life as they started shouting loudly upon seeing you, and then you saw them throwing something rotten and smelling badly at you.
Why were they doing it? What have you done to them?
"WHORE!" The crowd yelled. "ARROGANT BITCH!"
A boy no older than ten threw a piece of rock at you, and it struck your arm painfully, making you yelp. He was encouraged loudly by the others, and you realized they would beat you to death. Why? What have you done to be so hated? You were a prisoner in your family castle. No one loved you. No one cared for you. No one came to console you even in the darkest of days. Why did you deserve to be punished for something you had never done? Why were you the rotten one when the sons and daughters of the King were spoiled beyond imagination?
Before the next rock hit your head, you saw the stranger shielding you with a big piece of wood he had taken from some man. Holding it like a shield, your husband grasped your shoulders with the other hand and started fighting his way through the crowd as you clinged to him, afraid to raise your head. All you heard were angry shouts and screams of pain as the man crashed their bones with the shield in his hand, the sound of cracking disgusting and frightening. People tried to clench your dress, beat you, snatch away the cloth covering your head, but the stranger was quick to push people away, and soon you two were running somewhere, your vision clouded with tears.
He held your hand in his until you reached the forest behind the meadow, far away from the castle and all those scary people who dirtied your simple woolen clothes and coloured your arms black and blue. Luckily, you were mostly unharmed just like your saviour, the man who hadn't uttered a single word still. At this point you guessed he might be deaf or lacking his tongue - you heard maids talking about the soldiers of the King cutting tongues of the ones who talked against him. But maybe the stranger just didn't want to speak to you. He probably thought you were an arrogant princess, humbled by your pride and haughtiness.
"Thank you." You whispered to him, and the man turned face to you, his beautiful blue eyes watching you intently. "Thank you for saving me."
The tears had long dried out on your face, but your eyes were still a bit red, your voice raspy. Running in the wooden shoes made your feet hurt so bad as if you were running barefoot at all.
When your newly wed husband came closer to you, you flinched involuntary and made a step back, staring at his strangely attractive dirty face, his dark blonde disheveled hair and beard.
"You're safe with me."
You blinked, unsure what to say to him in return. His low husky voice made you tremble a little, but if he told you the truth, he was going to take care of you. You hurriedly averged your eyes and bowed your head again, waiting for him to continue walking. You didn't dare to talk to him once more.
Your had been travelling by foot for what felt like hours, and you felt grateful for the dress you were given as it was lighter with just a few layers of fabric. Your wooden shoes, however, bruised your skin so much that they were slowly filling with blood. Nonetheless, you kept walking even with blisters covering your feet as your husband moved forward without a stop through the forest. Was he living here? Otherwise you didn't know how he navigated through the woods.
"You're slowing us down." You winced when you raised your head and saw him furrowing at you, standing a few feet away.
"I am sorry." You muttered, knowing you could hardly speed up with your legs hurting so much as if you walked into the fire.
The stranger squinted, coming closer, "Take off your shoes."
You complied without saying a word, showing him your bruised feet. Was he going to complain you were a shirker, unable to even walk? Maybe he had it on his mind, but he stayed silent, ripping the hem of your dress when you gasped and wiped the blood away. Then he had you seated on a falling tree and bandaged your feet so gently you gawked at him openly. You felt tears shimmering in your eyes at his kindness. He cared.
"I will carry you from here." Your husband said, wiping away the sweat from his dirty forehead. "We'll make a halt soon."
"I can walk myself." You said when he loomed over you, his strong hands gripping your under your lower back. "Please!"
"No, you can't." He grumbled, shooting you a look that forced you to keep your mouth shut. "You are my wife now, and you are going to listen to what I say."
You squeezed your eyes shut when the man lifted you in the air and hurried forward, moving carefully so you wouldn't get struck by the branches. Your body ached, your legs hurt so hard you were ready to cry, your eyelids growing heavy. Oddly, the man's presence wasn't as intimidating as before, his body heat slowly warming you and lulling you to sleep since he slowed down a bit and kept going forward cautiously. You decided to close your eyes just a little bit...
__________________
When you opened your eyes next time, you were tucked in a bed that smelled like old sheep wool - your maid, a girl from the village, had the same scent when she returned after visiting her parents. Even though this bed was three times smaller and tougher then yours, you enjoyed laying there under the dark warm blanket - or whatever it was - and listening to the cracking fire inside the stone oven. Your poor feet were terribly sore, and laying on bed brought you so much comfort.
However, when you were fully awoke, you shifted on the bed nervously and glanced over the house, finding the stranger sitting near the crudely made wooden table, a clay pot in his hands. He lifted his hood, and now you could see his matted blonde hair and dirty face covered in mud and what looked like ashes. Was it his house he brought you to? It was very small and looked like it was abandoned some time ago, but you couldn't be sure. He had no servants to take care of his house, so maybe it always looked like that.
"You're awake." He said, turning his face to you. "Don't stand up. Your legs are no good."
"I'm sorry." You mumbled, knowing he was perfectly right since it still hurt you to move.
"Next time you need to tell me when you're in pain."
"Why?" Curling your lips in a grim smile, you got under blanket again, covering yourself up to your chin. "Why does my pain bother you?"
The man narrowed his eyes down at you and set the pot aside, putting his elbows on the table tiredly.
"You are my wife. Your pain bothers me, and my pain should bother you."
"I see." You averted your eyes from his face lit up by the light coming from the oven. You didn't know much about marriage since no one considered you to be ever wed. It was like this, then? Or was it because your husband was a peasant and not an honourable man? There certainly was differences, but you had never expected a beggar to be so kind.
He wasn't a beggar, though, of that you were sure.
"What name do I bear now?" You asked him, watching his face growing confused. "Do you... do you have a name, sir?"
"You bear the name of Rogers." He sounded oddly proud, but you only sighed - now you lost even the name your father gave you.
You were the beggar's wife, not the princess living in high castle - you would work hard till your hands bled; give birth to unfortunate children forced to live in poverty, who wouldn't know how to read or write; you'd starve and beg, and then die young. This is what your maid told you how the people of her village lived - despite being farmers, the lands they worked on were poor, and most of the harvest was taken away to feed the ones living in a castle.
You didn't even have the land to work on as you saw the forest through the crack in the door. This hut was in the middle of the woods, probably.
"I made a salve for your legs. Let me put it on."
When he stood up from the bench, you shivered and took your eyes elsewhere, moving higher on what you supposed was an improvised pillow. The stranger sat on the other side of the bed and moved your blanket, showing your dirty feet with dry blood covering them. Then, as if he remembered something, he went somewhere behind the oven and pulled a jug with a slightly cracked neck, soaking a rag in it. Once he squeezed it and brought it to your legs, you winced in pain, but stayed silent.
The stanger had been kind to you beyound your understanding.
"So, were the rumors true?" He asked once he wiped your feet cleen and took a little jar with what you assumed was the salve.
"Forgive me, but there are too many rumors for me to remember."
"The one that says you are so arrogant you don't want to meet any of the men who come to ask for your hand in marriage. Watching them being sent away, you sit in your room in the high tower and ridicule them all."
You wanted to laugh bitterly at his words, but the knot in your throat didn't let you utter a sound. Was this what the King and his children had been telling to your people, feeding them lies for years? The princess whose spirit was too high to look at those she deemed lower than her. The one born with a silver spoon in her mouth who didn't care whether her people starved and died from diseases. What a perfect little picture the King had constructed in the minds of others.
"If you believe it, did you take me as your wife to teach me a leason, then? To punish me?" You whispered and clenched your teeth - every touch to your legs made them burn as if the man's fingers were covered with flames.
"No."
His ridiculously beautiful blue eyes bore into you with such intensity it made you want to grab the blanket and pull it over your head to hide from him. Oddly, you thought his face looked noble behind that layer of dirt on his skin. He didn't look like any of those who you met behind the castle gates.
"In truth, I've seen you up there in the tower once, looking out the window. But you didn't laugh at us. You cried."
You raised your head and stilled, watching the man anxiously. No, he wasn't a beggar. They had never been admitted to the castle.
"How could you see me up there? My room is too high." Your hands trembled a little, and then you let out a hiss of pain when the man rubbed some salve onto your skin.
"I have a good eyesight."
"How did you know it was me, then?"
"Because I've seen you before."
Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest at his words. Who was he? Who was the man sitting on your bed?
"Were you a part of a cortege of a man who came to ask for my hand?" You asked nervously, glancing at him rubbing more of that medicine that smelled like herbs into your feet.
The stranger nodded. "Then... where have you seen me? Was it before I was locked in the castle by the King?"
"Yes. I saw you when the old King, rest his soul, had been alive."
"I see. I must have been a child, then." You gave him a weak smile, remembering those times when you were still the lovely little girl, your mother always keeping you close to her despite the royal etiquette. It was the time when you still travelled, sometimes even outside of your own country. He probably saw you during one of your trips with your parents. "Have you been a part of the court? Maybe the one who served it?"
"Yes." His answer was noncommittal, and it only steered your interest. Did he lost everything just like you? Was he stripped of his titles? It must had happened quite some time ago since his big hands were rough, work-weary. Maybe he was the knight or someone who belonged to the army.
Knowing he was becoming agitated, you decided to stop there. You had no desire to test patience of the one who had only ever been kind to you.
"I only have one question left, sir. How should I call you?"
He smirked, tilting his head to the side.
"Steve. My name is Steve Rogers."
Steve Rogers. This name rang a bell. He could see you growing confused, wracking your brains, desperately searching for any memory that could give you the answer. Steve Rogers. Steve...
Stevie. Prince Steven Grant Rogers. The little boy who was so unhealthy pale he looked like a ghost. He was skinny and small despite being older than you. You knew his mother had been sick for many years, confined to her chambers, and, sadly, her boy took after her. You remember the whispers behind your back when you visited him for the first time as he laid in bed, watching you with his enormously big blue eyes.
"It can't be." You gawked at the man who was bigger than anyone you had ever seen, his arms musculed, his shoulders wider than the ones of the King's executioner. Little Stevie could never grow so big - you remembered his thin, strange body well. "You can't be prince Steve."
"I'm not. I am King Steven now, little girl."
Oh, you remembered you called him a little boy that made him pout at you. There was no one standing close to you at the moment when you bended over to him and talked quietly not to tire the prince. But how could he become so strong? Even his father wasn't as big as him now. Why was King Steven dressed like a beggar? Why did he take you in the middle of the woods, pretending it was his house?
"When I reached the age of 18, I've met a wandering mage who cured my illness. His charms changed my body, made me what I had to become if my mother didn't fell sick before giving birth to me. Do you like what you see?"
You felt your cheeks burning when you realized you were staring at him shamelessly and averted your eyes.
"You look stronger than any man I've seen, Your Highness."
"I know, little bird." Smirking, he finally finished rubbing the salve into your skin and set the jar aside, caressing your feet. "As I fulfilled my promise to you, I came to claim what's rightfully mine."
"What promis- AH!
His gaze grew dark as you stared at him wide-eyed, and his hand gripped one of your feet painfully, making you yelp as he pressed his finger to the blister. He didn't like you forgetting about something important, but you could swear you remembered nothing of a promise.
"I gave you my word one day I'd become better and then come to ask for your hand, my dearest. You said if it were to happen, you would choose me among the other suitors. Do you remember now?" There was something dark in his voice as he spoke, and you nodded immediately to make him ease his grip on your leg. Steve sent you a satisfied smile, caressing your foot gently with his calloused fingers. "I've came to you several years ago, but you refused to see me and sent me away. I caught a glimpse of you in the window, and then I realized something wasn't right. I've sent a few of my people to become the servants in the castle to learn the truth."
Strangely, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted. King Steven knew you weren't rotten to the core. He knew you weren't a spoiled princess who refused to leave the castle to see her miserable people, suffering under the heavy taxation laws imposed by the new King. Steve took you here not to make you learn a lesson how to be behave, but to hide you from prying eyes.
As he wiped the tears streaming down your face, you realized he sat much closer to you now - King Steven smelled like sweat and pine trees.
"When the King ordered to give you to the first beggar who would come to the castle gates, I had already sneaked into your lands, my beloved. If not his order, my people would take you away soon." He dropped a kiss to your forehead, touching the locks of your hair with his fingers.
"But the King would find out who stole me." You whispered. "He'd demand you to bring me back."
"Five thousand soldiers are waiting for my command to march to the King's castle. Why would I leave him the kingdom that belongs to you, sweetheart?" Steve smiled, and you saw something dangerous lingering behind his eyes, something that made you shiver and draw a shaky breath from you. "If I gave you such an army, what would you do with it?"
For a second you felt like your body was thrown right into the fire, burning your flesh to the bones. The tears stopped as you clenched your teeth.
"Burn the castle to ashes. Kill the King. Kill his children. Kill their entourage. Kill all of them who had abandoned and humiliated me."
You didn't know when the anger rose in your chest and took a hold of your tongue, make you spit venom and imagine your brothers and sisters scream and plead for their lives, but you enjoyed it. You enjoyed every second of it when you thought of their heads on spikes for the crows to peck and the entire kingdom to see.
No one had come to your rescue for years when you prayed to be saved, taken away from a place that became your prison. No matter how much you asked God to answer you, he had been silent, and your learnt you were left alone in the world where no one wanted you to be treated fair. Then so be it. If no one took pity on a little miserable child pleading for help, you wouldn't show mercy to the ones who had been torturing you for years.
You hadn't seen how King Steven face changed as he watched you, his expression growing more sinister and poisonous, but you felt his lips on yours when he claimed your mouth possessively and his fingers clawed at your shoulders.
"I will cut the King's head off and tie it to the mane of your horse, my beloved. Would you like it to be your wedding gift?"
"Yes. Yes!" You cried as he shushed you, pressing your head to his chest and caressing your hair like a lover would.
"Then it's as good as done."
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Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @navegandoaciegas @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @heeeyitskay @lovelydarkdaydream
#dark steve rogers#dark steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#yandere#captain america
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King of Traitors
Series: Brynhilda’s Saga
Pairing: Ivar x OFC
Warnings: None for this chapter
Tagging: @salt-is-a-terrible-currency
****
The Cliff of Cliffs had a cave system. As a child, Brynhilda had explored the systems to such an extent she still knew what paths lead to where. From the information she’d gathered, thanks to a recon mission gone very right, she knew that Boggvir’s men were situated right against the cliff, next to a crack that opened right in the middle of the camp.
She has a plan to sew some chaos into the camp, not much, just enough to put the men on edge. Brynhilda’s force is small, excluding herself, there were seven in total that followed her. Alf, Dorfi, and five of the bravest women in the whole camp. The men that would have volunteered to come had other jobs to do. She turns to her people, “Remember, you can take as much as you can carry, but destroy supplies. Keep as quiet as you can, for as long as you can. If you get caught, I won't be saving you.” Everyone nods in understanding. “Good, lets go.”
She sent other groups out that night that were going to help with creating chaos. One was setting up traps in the forest. In the early morning, they’d try to get a group of Boggvir’s men to follow them, and neutralize a small portion of the army. Another group was situated on top of the cliff, ready to fire arrows down at the enemy at a random time in the night. Yet another group was going to try and lead a small group of the enemy into a small skirmish to the south.
Brynhilda didn’t have the bulk Boggvir did, even now, at the height of her popularity. She had to resort to guerilla tactics for the next few hours in the hopes of weakening the enemy, tiring them out, depleting some of the massive army.
So many opportunities to go wrong...yet the reward was worth it.
Brynhilda leads her group through the caves with no problem, out the otherside with only the smallest of sounds. When she finally saw the last woman out of the cave, she hisses,“Find cover, quickly.” They do as told, following her behind a stack of food. She looks at them, “spread out, start destroying supplies. Food, weapons, shields. Throw things into the ravine, steal things, I don't care. Get going.” Everyone disperses at her orders. They had one hour to complete their tasks before the attacks began. Then, they either get caught in the fight, or they escape without a scratch.
For an entire hour, Brynhilda is on edge, anything could go wrong. Luck holds with her. She manages to find weapons just laying around the camp, just as she expected. It’s a pity that she has to give Boggvir this sorely needed reality check.
Her confidence is slowly returning. She can do this, they can do this. A soft caw from one of the crows that perpetually follows her tells her it's time to go. She rushed back to the hole in the cliff, seeing most of her group. “Where is Dorfi?” She asks. “We don't know,” Alf tells her, “lost I expect.” Brynhilda curses. “Go back to the camp, I'll find Dorfi.”
“What happened to you not saving us?” Alf says, smirking, “Clearly I lied.”
”I saw him go towards the edge of the camp, toward the log trap.” A woman tells her. “Thank you,” Brynhilda turns heading back towards the camp, stopping when her group moves with her. “Go back to the camp,”
“Not without you,” Alf says. “Look-” Brynhilda begins to argue, but Alf cuts her off, “Don't bother arguing. We aren't leaving without you.”
“Well, don't blame me when we're still stuck here when things go to shit.” Brynhilda mutters, moving herself and her group towards the edge of the camp. It occurs to her that Dorfi really might be working for Boggvir, thus leading her into a trap. She grips her sword tighter, she'd behead him if that were the case.
She doesn't have to wonder about it though, as she hears Dorfi's voice through a tent. “I don't know anything about Brynhilda.” he says defiantly. She smirks, she loves it when she's wrong. “Oh? She didn't send you here to curse us all?” Someone sneers. Their voice is gruff, someone she doesn't recognize. She motions of her people to surround the tent. “Do you really think Brynhilda is someone that believes in curses?”
“Yes.” There was an awkward pause, “Do you think Brynhilda is someone who would use curses?” Dorfi rephrased. “Look, we all know Brynhilda wants us dead,” she steps into the tent for dramatic effect, cutting off the man’s tirade. She’s angry when she sees Dorfi beaten and bloodied. For a moment, she has to wonder if he really kept her secrete despite the torture. “You're right, I want you dead,” she says. Before the man can even yell or draw his weapon, she runs him through with her sword, covering his mouth so he doesn't make much sound.
Dorfi looks at her, smiling. He gets off his knees and stumbles out of the tent. Sheathing her sword, she follows him, bringing out a dagger from its holster and cuts his restraints. “What happened to not coming to save our asses?” Dorfi asks, delighted. Brynhilda just pats his shoulder.
They were going to sneak back to the hole, but one of her ravens caw, loudly so everyone can hear it, a warning sign that her other plans are about to be set into motion. “Shit,” she mutters. Everyone readies their weapons, “There isnt enough time to escape,” Dorfi warns her, watching as people are now pouring from the tents, wondering why the fuck a raven is cawing in the middle of the night.
“Please tell me you disabled the trap.” Alf says. Dorfi snorts, “course I did!”
“Tight circle,” Brynhilda instructs, bringing her shield in front of her. They form a tight ring as shouts of intruders begin to go up, now alerted to their presence. Men surround them. “Brynhilda, I don't like this,” Alf mutters, “Oh really?” Brunhilda snaps, “What's not to like? We're trapped in the middle of an enemy camp, surrounded, with fucking no way out.”
“Someone's testy,” Alf mutters, “She needs a nap,” Dorfi explains, “she gets cranky without her beauty rest.”
“I hate you both.” She mutters, bracing herself for an attack. The dam of tension breaks as soon as a random enemy charges at her and hits her shield. Everyone begins to shout, fight, run. Its utter chaos.
Brynhilda wants to throw herself into the fight with wild abandon, her very being craves the blood shed, demands it, but she's divided. She has to get her people to safety. They have to survive. She defends them more than she fights.
The enemy, composed of men she's led in battle, are confused at the new tactic. She's a brute force fighter, she charges and her opponent dies. Now she's yelling coherent instructions, staying back and helping her people. It confuses the enemy, makes them hesitate.
Her new friends are just as adept at fighting as she is, a tall blond clears a path, striking so quickly anyone barely has time to react. Dorfi is clearly a distance fighter, throwing numerous little knives into the fray. The women dart in and out of small pockets of enemies, taking down two or three at a time. They work as a team and manage to get to the border, where fighting only grows heavier.
The group Brynhilda sent out that was supposed to charge the side of the camp she’s headed towards is doing its job beautifully. The shock of the trap working had given them the advantage, confusion was sown, everyone was divided. “Retreat!” She yells, her voice is heard clearly over the battle. A horn is sounded and her men begin to fall back. Brynhilda stays until she is sure the last man has gone. She is about to join them when the enemy crowd parts, and she sees Boggvir.
Her heart aches. A sick part of her wants to forgive him, to run into his arms and take comfort in his presence, most of her just wants to snap his neck then and there. He looks older than she remembered, he looks...terrified. “Enjoy your final moments,” Brynhilda calls to him, bowing, “Boggvir, King of Traitors” with that, she turns and runs.
*
Her camp is riotous when she gets back. Through snippets of excited congratulations, she finds that all men have made it back alive with no more than a few bumps and bruises. Someone had the wherewithal to break out the celebration food. She notes there wasn't a mead cup in sight, good, mead was after the battle was definitely won. “To Brynhilda the Deathless!” One of her men yells. The cheer goes up, her name reaching the heavens. She laughs as someone picks her up on their shoulders, it's hard not to get caught up in the celebration. “To my warriors!” She says, throwing a fist in the air. This elicits an even bigger cheer.
When she is put down, Alf approaches her, pulling her off to the side. “Sven tells me there's something that requires your full attention.” She follows him through the camp.
They come upon her tent, small and unassuming, except for the large boar stitched into the side. A group of men surround something, the air is charged, as she approaches, they part for her so she can see what it is they’ve captured. The Volva that started this mess. She's not so pretty now, covered in dirt, hair wild, half starved. “What did you do to her?” Brynhilda mutters, feeling bad for the woman...only slightly. She glares at the men in turn.
“Your men have done nothing,” the witch says, looking Brynhilda in the eyes, “they were perfectly behaved.”
“Leave,” Brynhilda tells them. “Jarl-” Sven, who’d been among the group, begins to argue, but at Brynhilda's look he stops. They all leave.
Brynhilda picks the witch up, and throws her into the tent, nearly gagging at the smell of her. “Are you cold?” Brynhilda asks, not bothering to wait for the answer. She throws a blanket around the woman.
“Enough with the niceties. I know nothing of Boggvir's plan. He cast me aside the moment he got word you lived.” Brynhilda had trouble keeping the smirk from her face. “A wise queen told me once that women seldom have choices in life. We must take what we’re given and deal with it, ours is a most tragic lot.” The volva merely grunts. “She was loved, hated, and killed because she was a witch.”
“What's your point?”
“My point is, right now, you have a choice to make.”
“I told you I know nothing of Boggvir's plans,” Brynhilda ignores her, “become mine, work for me, and live under my protection,”
“Be a slave? Ha! I'd rather die,” Brynhilda nods, pulling out a dagger. “Very well,” she gets up and grabs a fistfull of dirty hair, pulling the volva's head back. Before she can even put the blade to her neck, the witch changes her mind. “I'll do it! I'll work for you! Don't kill me please!” Brynhilda lets her go. Smiling, she puts the dagger down, “I'll send someone to come clean you up.”
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Actus Reus
Warnings: nonconsensual sexual acts (oral, spanking, intercourse)
This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You find yourself at odds with Andy Barber both in and out of court.
Note: I just decided to write this one shot because I could and because @lokislastlove is harassing me all the time!
Thank you. Love you guys!
As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
You stood as the judge went through the motions, the verdict closer and closer. Judge Hannon's voice carried through the courtroom and you longed for those words; 'Not guilty'.
As your victory was confirmed, you glanced across the room at the Assistant District Attorney. You smiled as his eyes met yours and his jaw ticked. More and more often you found yourself on the docket with Andy Barber and to your delight, the last three times had been successful. At least, on your end.
You shook the defendant’s hand and congratulated him on his avoided jail time. Your own celebration would have to wait.
You packed up and neared the aisle. Andy sat behind the desk, his briefcase open and his papers still stacked before him. You rested your bag on the corner and stopped.
"Head up. There's always next time." You chimed.
He looked over. His lips remained a straight line and his eyes burned fiercely at you. Usually he took it on the chin with grace and you were startled at the sheer anger in his expression. He sighed and turned to shuffle his papers into a single pile.
"Yeah," He stood, "Next time."
You smiled and nodded. You left him to stew in his ire and shrugged as you neared the door. You'd seen it before. Egos always seemed to find their way into the courtroom. Well, his wasn't your concern, you had your own to deal with. This high wouldn't last forever, but while it did, you were sure as hell going to enjoy it.
💼
Aaron finished his drink and checked his watch. The wife was waiting, so he claimed. That was always his excuse to cut out early and the rest were quick to follow suit; early morning, kids, cat needed to be fed. You bid Carlos goodbye next and then Geena. Your posse was rather lame outside the courtroom, not that they were much fun there either.
You shrugged and made your way to the bar for a second round. You stood at the corner trying to catch the attention of the bartender. The subtle movement of another at the opposite end caught your eye. You recognized the beard made darker by the shadows and you recognized your adversary despite his attempt to hide behind his hand.
You smiled and played his game. You pretended not to notice him as the bartender finally came your way. A double with lime. You waited and watched until the stout tumbler was placed before you. You paid and left the change as a tip. You walked a few stools down, closer to Andy as he stared into his rye. You climbed up and set your glass down loudly.
You stared at the Coors sign and crossed one leg over the other as you sipped. You smiled above the lip of the glass and sighed. His stool creaked and he cleared his throat.
"Come to gloat?" He asked.
"Nah, just wanted to see if you'd find your spine." You taunted. "I take it that's not a happy drink."
He glared at you and drained the last gulp. He motioned to the bartender and ordered a refill.
"And once she's done, give her another on me." His voice was low, monotone. He barely looked at you.
"You don't have to--"
"You won. You earned it," He huffed. "And I was always told it wasn't good to drink alone."
"You talking about you or me?" You countered.
He shrugged and accepted his second drink.
"Whatever makes you feel better," He grumbled.
"Look, Mr. Assistant District Attorney, I don't think you need to be so worked up over me." You snickered. "A public defender is hardly an enviable position."
"You do well enough, don't you?" He took a swig and licked the excess from his lips.
"Look, I think I'm good on the refill. A kind gesture but..." You stood and took your drink. "I don't think alcohol is a great mixer for us."
"What's wrong? Not so mouthy without an audience."
"Right, Andy," You backed up slowly. "I'll see you at the courthouse. Hopefully not soon."
You left him to mope and returned to your table, alone but not disheartened. The gin was just starting to kick in and lent a soft glow to the dark barroom.
💼
Another drink and you were ready to go. Admittedly it was one too many but tomorrow was your day off and despite his resent, Andy had insisted on sending it over. He left just as it was delivered to your table. You raised it in thanks as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
You left the empty glass on the table and slung your jacket over your arm as you hugged your bag to your side. It was barely midnight, the bar would be open for a few hours more. You stumbled out into the dim street and the door clattered behind you noisily.
You swayed as you stopped on the curb and looked up and down the road. A cab would be your best bet.
You chuckled dopily as you squinted at a set of headlights down the street. The alcohol was starting to really nip at you. You raised your hand to flag down the taxi but were suddenly pulled off balance. Your scream was capped by a hand over your mouth as you kicked out and dropped your blazer and bag onto the sidewalk. You flailed as you were dragged back into the mouth of the alley just beside the bar.
"Shhhh," The hot breath smelled like whiskey as you were shoved against the wall.
You looked up at the looming shadow, the silhouette of broad shoulders and a face shrouded in darkness. Your vision was hazy and your felt a draining warm flow through you as the gin sank deeper into your stomach.
"You make a noise," The coarse growl chilled you, "I'll make sure you never say another word again."
You gulped and slapped the stranger's chest. He was strong, big, immovable. You whimpered into his palm and he pressed it harder to your lips.
"Do you understand?" He snarled.
You nodded and your hand slipped from his chest.
You leaned against the wall, trying to flatten yourself as his hand slid from over your mouth.
"Please..." You wisped.
"Don't, " He warned as he grabbed the front of your blouse, his leg against yours as he pinned you there.
He tore your shirt open and pushed it aside. He squeezed your tits gruffly, your bra thin beneath his touch. He was quick to snake his hands down around your ass and knead with a beastly growl.
His hands descended further and he yanked on your skirt until it was above your thighs. He ripped your panties down just as quickly and your legs wobbled beneath you. You threatened to crumple entirely and he pushed your shoulders back against the wall.
He was terse, silently demanding as he led your body to his whims. He pulled your leg up and hooked it around his hip. You heard a buckle and a zipper, the noise cut through your panic and you were washed over with numb acceptance.
You blinked a long blink and when you opened your eyes, he was inside you. He jerked your body violently as he impaled you. His hand kept a hold of your knee as he writhed against you with muted grunts. His other hand moved in the shadows along the edge of your vision. You closed your eyes again and scratched your fingernails along the wall as your ankles buckled underneath your weight, the thin heels of your shoes threatening to snap.
You felt a painful fullness, an incessant pounding in your core, as this stranger ravished you. Your eyelids bloomed yellow for an instant and you opened them to another blinding flash, and another, several until the light turned constant. Until you were nothing but a rag doll crushed between the grimy brick and inhuman warmth.
The bar door opened with a shrill grind and closed again. Several times as you were trapped only feet away. Drunken footfalls echoed away and you just let them.
You gave a whine and the hand flew from your leg to your mouth. Another hush as your leg dangled around the stranger and he kept on rutting into you. Every thrust was harder, meaner, his sinister growls barely restrained as the light kept your clueless.
Then it all stopped. His hips slowed and he pulled out of you. Heat spurted down your thigh and the light moved lower before it died entirely. Your skirt was tugged down over the mess and you were left to collapse into a heap.
The buckle again, and the zipper. The soft soles on the ground and the drop of your bag beside you and the flutter of your jacket over your chest. You stayed there, weak, frightened, and the shadow walked away into the darkness.
You buttoned up your shirt, crooked and untucked as you pushed yourself to your feet. You pulled on your blazer and gripped your bag tightly, unsteadily finding your way back to the street. There was a drunk pissing on the other side of the road and you limped down towards the corner. Another taxi appeared and you raised your hand, almost tripping over your own feet.
All you had to do was get home. Get home, get safe, and you could figure it out tomorrow.
💼
The next day, you woke with barely any recollection of how you got home. You remembered your last drink and the door closing behind you but everything else was a garbled, retina burning blur.
You didn't do much more than hold together your splitting head. It really hadn't been that great a victory and you accepted this as the humbling you deserved. That and the ache throughout your body, the filth you felt upon waking on your couch. The feeling as if you had forgotten something very important. But all that remained was that blur. That painful blur that made you want to wretch.
It faded with each day that followed. As you got back to your usual toil, your little excess dissolved into the void of routine. You worked long hours, interview witnesses, consulted defendants, and pored over case files.
That night almost entirely slipped your mind but for the odd dreams that waited for you in the night. The bright light, the rutting breaths, the warmth in your core, broken by the sobering mornings and washed away with the hours between.
What was it? Two, three weeks. Maybe a whole month. You didn't dwell on that night until your old foe sat just across the aisle.
You stood patiently, quietly, as the judge read over your new evidence. It would be the crux of your next case but you couldn't betray that to Andy as his hand stretched across the plaintiff's table and he watched Judge Hannon closely.
"Your honour, we were not given sufficient notice--" Barber began.
"This trial has yet to commence. The defendant is giving notice now and as I see..." Hannon paused and flipped to the first page, "You signed off on the review."
"That is not what we saw," Andy lied.
"If there has been any tampering, it was not on our accord." You argued. "As is customary, once the plaintiff has reviewed the evidence it is then sent directly to the court to be held for official consideration."
"Mr. Barber, if you can give a valid legal argument why this evidence should not be permitted, I'm waiting." Hannon closed the folder and stared at the prosecutor.
Andy's nostrils flared and he lowered his head in deference. He had no argument. As you watched him, heard his gristly breath as he sighed, you felt an odd coil in your stomach.
"Very well. I haven't the time to argue this further. You have your approval," Hannon tapped the folder. "Dismissed."
You smiled, just a little. The tugging at the back of your mind kept you from your usual delight. You packed up your briefcase and headed for the aisle. Andy met you there and watched you with a stern scowl. He nodded you ahead of him and you skirted past without a second thought.
He followed you down the aisle as the next parties on the docket shuffled into place. You swept through the door and it was swiftly caught behind you. The hall was quite and sterile, especially compared to the courtroom.
"You won't win. Not this time." Andy sneered and you stopped to look back at him. "You can't base your whole case on a parking slip."
"We'll see." You said and turned back.
You took two steps before his hand was on your arm. He spun you back to him and you gaped at him in shock. You wrenched free of his grasp and stumbled back.
"What do you think you're doing?" You hissed. "Andy, it's just a case. You win some, you lose some."
"Yeah, well, I'm real tired of losing..." He reached in his pocket and slid his phone out. "Especially to you."
"I'm just doing my job and your numbers aren't my problem," You scoffed. "Get your shit together."
"I should say the same," His lips curved just a little and he turned his phone to you. "How many people want this decrying their morality to the world?"
You stared at the image and grimaced. It was you, your blouse was undone, one side of your bra had slipped down below your chest and your eyes were bleary and senseless. Your skirt was bunched at your waist and below... That night. What had happened that night?
"What the fuck!?" You snarled. "Andy, how did--"
"Shhh," He hushed you and pinpricks spread over your skin. Your blood curdled as you felt like throwing up. "You don't wanna do this here."
You glanced over at the scales of justice on the short plinth then back to him.
"You think I'll throw the case because you got a few photos of me?"
"I think you’ll do... whatever I want you to." He smirked. "You'll start by having a little chat with me. In my office."
"I have to get back--"
"You will lie and say there was a delay in court," He said staunchly. "Or... I can CC you on the email I send to Hannon."
You swallowed and lowered your eyes. You shook your head and took a breath. You threw your hand up weakly.
"Okay," You said quietly.
He neared you and you winced. He sidestepped you and his shoes clicked down the polished floor. They stopped at the very end.
"Well..." He said.
You turned stiffly and marched towards him, your fingers tight around the handle of your briefcase. He carried on and you followed just a step behind. He led you past the desks of his fellow attorneys and to the corner office where his name was etched on a brass plaque.
He closed the door behind you with a quite clasp. You stood just inside and he brushed past you and crossed to his desk. He dropped his briefcase and leaned against the corner as he flicked his thumb across his phone. He watched the screen intently and tapped it twice.
You saw the moving shapes, indecipherable from your vantage and you set down your briefcase by the door. You neared and looked down at the video of yourself. You had no doubt it was him doing those things to you but nothing in the video could confirm that. If it wasn't him holding the phone, you'd have no idea at all.
"Andy!" You reached out and grabbed at the phone. "What is wrong with you?"
"You seemed to enjoy yourself." He stood straight and held the phone above him, beyond your reach. "Didn't you?"
"I-I--" You spluttered. "I don't remember. Andy, don't you realise that what you did--"
"You think you'd win that case, hmm?" He chuckled. "Really? You were drunk, you can't remember what happened let alone who it was."
"Give me the phone, Andy," You growled and were almost flush to him as you tried to reach it. "How dare--"
"You really think anyone will believe it's me?" He caught your wrist and held it above you. "Maybe, but they know for sure that it's you being a little slut in this."
"What did you--"
He wrenched your arm down and twisted. You cried out as he spun you around and turned you toward the desk. He easily slipped his phone away and grabbed the back of your neck. You dug your heel in and he squeezed.
"Shhh," He hissed in your ear. "We don't want anyone to hear. To know what a slut you are."
"Stop, get off--"
He let go of your wrist and clapped his hand over your mouth. He pushed on your neck and forced you forward until you were against the desk. He bent with you below him until your cheek was on the wood. He wiggled his hips and you felt his arousal against your ass.
"If you want to keep your reputation, likely your job, you will be good for me," He stood slowly, his hand still on your neck as he held you down. "You get your wins and I get mine."
"You can't do this," You pleaded.
"I already have," He gloated, his other hand crept down your back.
His reached over your ass and bunched your skirt in his fingers. You squirmed and his grip sent a pang down your spine. You groaned and he forced your skirt up over your ass. He tutted and played with the lacy edge of your panties.
"Is this what you wear to court?" He asked. "Naughty girl."
"Andy..." You uttered.
"You be quiet," He ordered as he grasped the top of your panties. "Or these go in your mouth."
He tore them down past your ass and you gasp. He leaned his weight on your neck and rubbed your ass. You closed your mouth and shakily curled your fingers over the edge of the desk.
"Good," He tickled along your skin and pulled his hand away.
There was a lull, a tense pause as you waited for whatever he had planned. The sharp slap that followed stung your ass and shattered the silence. You choked on your cry and he did it again. His large hand sent ripples through you as he spanked you, each time a low purr rumbled from him. Your toes slipped along the floor as your legs turned to jelly.
He only stopped as a soft chiming sounded. He released your neck and slowly dragged his hand down your back as his other rubbed a circle over your ass.
"Stay," He said.
You covered your face with your hand but didn't move from the desk.
"Barber," He said and indiscernible chatter rose from the speaker of his phone. "Oh, yeah, yeah. No, I'm not busy. No problem."
There was a moment before he let out a long breath. He pinched your ass and stepped away from you.
"Canavan's on her way." He grabbed your bag and returned to you. He pulled you up by your arm. "Better hide."
"I should go--"
"No time," He said as he urged you around the desk. "Go on."
He threw your bag under the desk and pointed beside as he shoved you down.
"She said she was already on her way."
"Andy," You fixed your panties and skirt. "I'll just go--"
"How's this?" He tilted his phone toward you. "Another to add to the collection."
A photo of your ass above your lacy panties greeted you. You blinked and recoiled.
"Why are you doing this?"
"We'll have lots of time later to discuss," He pushed on your shoulder and put his phone in his jacket pocket. "Now, go on."
You dropped to your knees reluctantly. He sat and waved you under the desk. You back underneath it, careful not to knock your head. He wheeled his chair close and blocked you in. His knees were on either side of your head as he rubbed his thighs.
"You'll have to keep quiet," His fingers fluttered up to his fly and he shifted as he undid it. "Keep yourself busy."
"Are you ser--"
"Shhh," He caught your chin as his other hand pulled his cock free of his pants. "Remember, quiet."
He got as close as he could and drew you to him. He stroked himself and pressed his tip to your lips. A knock sounded at the door and you froze.
"Open your fucking mouth," It felt as if he would crush your jaw and you obeyed with a whine. He shushed you as he slid into your mouth. "Don't you fucking stop." He growled under his breath before raising his voice to an eerily chipper tone. "Come in."
His cock was at the back of your throat as you stilled. You heard the door open but not close. The heels crossed and the other chair creaked as someone sat.
"I heard about the new evidence," The district attorney said. "Bit of a rough patch, eh?"
"Can't all be home runs," He said and tapped your leg with his toe. "It's nothing. I'll find a way around it."
"Look, Barber," Canavan said. "I know you will. You're a good attorney but we all need breaks. I can see it, you're stressed. It's okay to take a vacation."
"You know, it has been..." You began to move your head as he poked you again with his shoe. "Tough but I think whatever it was, I'm past it. It was just... you know Laurie and Jacob. She was doing a lot of overtime and the kid likes to run off at all hours but I think we finally figured it out."
His legs held you snugly as he tensed at the feel of your mouth gliding up and down his length. You thought of the images on his phone, of the chaos they could inspire, of how hard you'd worked to get where you were. This man wanted to exchange all that for his own ego. You pressed your tongue to his shaft and he cleared his throat gruffly.
"A couple days, if you need them, more if you wanna take the family away," Canavan offered. "Look, a little while without you is better than you being here but not really being here. You get it?"
"Oh, I... do," He shuddered as you kept your pace steady.
You did your best not to make a noise as your spit dripped down his length. You could tell he was struggling just as much not to give you away.
"How about I think about it and get back to you tomorrow? I'll have to talk to Laurie." He said evenly.
"I can wait until tomorrow," The chair groaned and her heels clicked on the wooden floor. "Maybe dust off that Jack you hide in your second drawer. I'll keep pretending I don't know about it."
"I might just," Andy chuckled. "Thanks, Lynn."
"I mean it," Her footsteps neared the threshold, "Think about it."
The door closed and Andy let out a long breath. His hand went to the back of your head and he pushed himself down your throat with a moan.
"Fuck," He swore as he gripped your head between his hands. "You little fucking bitch. I thought you didn't want anyone to know you were so..." He hissed as he bobbed your head. "Bad. Fuck!"
You grabbed his thighs as he guided you up and down. You tried not to choke on him as he hammered the back of your throat. His right hand slipped around the back of your head and his other latched onto your shoulder.
He swore again as he leaned back in his chair and lifted his pelvis. He long legs stretched out around you as he spasmed. He held your head down as he grunted and emptied himself into your mouth.
His hips bucked only a few more times before he stilled. His hand fell from you and he hung his arms over the sides of his chair. He sighed and you nearly gagged as you pulled him out of your mouth.
You were trapped halfway under the desk and you felt around behind you with one arm as you cupped your other hand before your mouth. You had a pack of kleenex in your bag, somewhere.
"Ah," Andy clutched your hand and pulled you with him as he rolled back. His cock softened slowly over his pants. "Swallow or you can keep going until you get it right."
You frowned and your lips trembled in disgust. His cum had already thickened on your tongue and your eyes rolled back as you made yourself swallow. He let you go and you wiped your lips with the back of your hand.
"You know how it is," He winked as he leaned back and bent his arms behind his head casually. "You win some, you lose some."
#andy barber#dark andy barber x reader#dark!andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber x reader#andy barber x reader#dark!fic#dark fic#fic#one shot#defending jacob#dark!au#dark au#au#oneshot
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How He Shows You Affection: Miya Osamu
Hey guys, this one also really hurts to re-post, but I’m really hopeful that since the Kuroo one did so well, this one will too. It was my first request and from the amazing rice-hime too, which is probably the only reason it did so well, so big shout out to her for being amazing!
Notes: 84
If you want to know why I’m re-posting check here
Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!
Warnings: None all fluff!
How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist
He Makes Time for You
You waited patiently at your table, quietly sipping your drink as you waited for the store to close. It was date night, so you’d dressed up in one of your cutest outfits and while you could’ve waited patiently at home for Osamu to come get you you’d decided to surprise him at work instead. The way his whole face had lit up when he spotted you and the appreciative look in his eyes as he spotted what you were wearing made it more than worth it.
You didn’t get to talk to him for long, the restaurant was too busy for that, only managing to exchange quick greetings, and affectionate brush of the hands before he was forced to move on to the next customer but it was more than enough to tide you over. After all in just a short while you’d be able to have him all to yourself, so it was more than enough.
More than one patron had wondered why Onigiri Miya closed early on Tuesdays. It was a strange day for such a thing after all. Most people thought it was a restocking thing, or a cleaning day, only those closest to you knew it was because your boyfriend had decided early on when he’d started his business that no matter how busy he got he was always going to set aside one evening a week that he could devote wholly to you. Thus the shop closed at four o’clock on Tuesdays and anyone who wanted to have their Onigiri had to come early or miss out.
He’d had more than a few complaints about it too, but he’d never cared about that at all, waving them off and telling anyone who complained that it was their own fault if they missed out. After all the store was open regular hours all the other days of the week, and even stayed open late on Fridays and Saturdays, so there was no point in whining about one day.
Once you’d tried to suggest that it might be okay if he didn’t, that you would be okay with him putting his restaurant first, as you knew it was his dream job, but he’d been very quick to shut that down. He’d insisted that yes, the restaurant was his dream, but you were part of his dream too, and part of his future and having time with you, just for you was important to him. You hadn’t been able to argue with him after that, and just gratefully accepted what he’d offered your heart full to the bursting for the incredibly man who had somehow fallen in love with you.
A few years in and most of the patrons were used to the Tuesday closures, and knew to come early, but there was still the occasional late comer, who refused to be budged, and it seemed tonight was one of those nights.
He’d come in at four on the dot, pushing his way through the door and nearly knocking over the poor employee who’d been trying to shut and lock it, the open sign already flipped to closed, and hadn’t even apologized. Instead he’d marched right up to the counter and rattled off his order right into your boyfriend’s extremely unimpressed face.
“We’re closed,” Osamu informed the clearly self-important business man in a bored drawl.
“The door says you close at four!” the man blustered clearly angry.
“And by my count it’s now exactly,” he paused for a minute to check the watch you’d given him for your last anniversary that he wore faithfully every day, “4:01 sir, which means we’re closed.”
“Well that’s a ridiculous hour to close anyway,” he informed your boyfriend flushed but not backing down, “Not even dinner time! Besides I came all the way here, the least you can do is give me my meal. I’m a paying customer.”
“We’re closed,” Osamu repeated slowly for the man as if he were a petulant toddler than needed things explained very slowly and in small words, his tone making you hide a smile behind your drink, “That means everythin’ is turned off, and we’re all packin’ up to leave. I couldn’t make yer order even if I wanted to.”
“Well then what is she doing here huh?” the man demanded pointing an accusing finger in your direction, startling you enough you nearly spilled your drink, “I demand to be served too!”
“She ain’t a customer,” your boyfriend informed the man, a clearly warning edge to his voice, “That’s my girlfriend, and she’s waitin’ there fer me ta be finished so if ya could please vacate the premises so we can get goin’ I’d appreciate it.”
“How unprofessional,” the man scoffed derisively, “Having your girlfriend here. I demand to speak to your manager.”
“Yer lookin’ at the manager,” Osamu countered with a bored sigh, “And he’s tellin’ you to please leave so we can close.”
The man blustered a bit more, but in the end he did concede, stomping out of the door and shouting how he was going to be in contact with the owner, and would be leaving a very poor review, which made you frown turning to look at your boyfriend in concern, though as per usual with him he looked completely unruffled by the whole thing.
“’Spose it’s a bit too late to tell him I’m the owner too huh?” he asked when he saw you looking at him, his mouth curling into a smile.
“Is it really okay?” you asked hesitantly, “I could’ve waited a little longer for you to make his food. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“Well I woulda minded,” he countered casually pulling his hat off and ruffling a hand through his dark hair, making it fall across his forehead rather appealingly, “Sides, even if I wanted too, everythin’s pretty much put away anyway. I wouldn’t have had the ingredients.”
“But what if he does leave a bad review?” you asked with a frown, concerned for his business.
“It’s just one review sweets,” he assured you, “An if he does I’ll be sure to respond to it, if it’ll make ya feel better and explain the situation, though I don’t think it’ll matter much.”
“Alright,” you agreed, feeling a bit better at his reassurance, “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” he told you firmly, “Besides I wouldn’t have wanted to keep my favorite girl waitin’ any longer than she has ta be, just let me wipe everythin’ down, do one final check and get changed and we can get goin’ on our date.”
“Let me help,” you told him, quickly finishing your drink and tossing the disposable cup away moving toward the counter to grab one of the rags he kept there to help wipe down the tables.
“Ya don’t have ta sweets, me n the rest can handle it,” he told you grabbing hold of the other end of the rag to hold you in place.
“I know,” you told him with a smile, giving a quick glance around the shop to ensure no one could see before leaning over the counter to give him a light peck on the lips and explaining, “But we’ll finish faster if I help, and the sooner we finish the sooner I get you all to myself.”
“Alright,” he agreed a playful smile on his lips, and a soft look on his face that he only ever shared with you, “Have it your way then.”
“I will,” you told him with a grin, before bouncing off to do as you’d said you would a cheerful spring in your step as you contemplated how very lucky you were to have your man who loved you enough to set aside the time for you even if it meant dealing with angry customers just to spend a little extra time with you.
He Tugs at Your Ear
You stared out the window contemplatively watching the rain hit the glass. It was kind of a dreary day today and while you could sometimes enjoy the rain today it was making you feel a bit out of it. Frankly you had a lot to get done, but you couldn’t seem to drum up the motivation to do it.
You were so spaced out you didn’t even notice your boyfriend sliding a plate of food in front of you, and gently nudging your laptop away too distracted by watching the path the raindrops carved down the shop window. You probably would’ve continued with your daze, not even noticing the delicious smelling food just waiting to be consumed if not for the gentle tug at your ear.
The touch was a familiar one but even so you jerked slightly in surprise, your eyes turning to your boyfriend who had the lobe of your ear caught gently between his thumb and forefinger. It was a gesture he used a lot when he wanted to get your attention, a leftover remnant from his childhood with his twin, where Osamu would be forced to grab hold of him somehow to get him to shut up and pay attention.
Though you had to admit he was a lot sweeter with you than he was with Atsumu, probably because unlike his brother he had no particular desire to cause you pain when he was trying to catch your attention. He never twisted or yanked, just gently tugged on you, a disparity the blonde twin had noticed and liked to complain about loudly to anyone who would listen.
It was a rather sweet gesture honestly and an intimate touch you’d gotten used to after dating him for so long, even if it did still make you jump a bit from time to time, when he startled you, like he had just then.
“Looks like yer thinkin’ some pretty hefty thoughts there sweets,” he pointed out, his voice gentle with concern as he released your ear to gently cup your jaw running his thumb affectionately over your cheekbone, “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”
“Nothing in particular,” you admitted with a wry smile, “Just feeling a little down I guess.”
“Well maybe this will cheer ya up,” he urged, nudging the plate of onigiri toward you, “Or at the very least fill yer belly.”
You couldn’t help the slight smile that crept over your face as you looked at the food he’d brought you. He’d shaped them into cute little pandas, no doubt especially for you and you didn’t doubt they were full of your favorite flavored fillings too.
Honestly you were pretty sure Osamu thought food was the answer for everything, and in some cases he was right, but this time just the gentle tug of his fingers on your ear had already lifted your mood a bit. The gesture more than enough to remind you just how much he cared about you.
He Cooks for You
The sound of your alarm woke you from a deep sleep, and you groaned quietly to yourself. It was morning again, and you really didn’t want to get up, but you had to work, so you slowly forced yourself to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and heaving a tired sigh.
You couldn’t help the sad glance you cast at the other side of the bed, which was already empty, the sheets cold, the owner gone a long time ago, no doubt already hard at work at his store. These days you didn’t get to wake up with Osamu in your arms or him in yours very often the way you had when you were in college. Not when he had a store to run, food prep to do, and employees to supervise.
You understood even if it did suck somedays to not find him beside you when you woke. Especially the mornings when you woke up and would’ve given almost anything to hold and be held by him just for a little while. Still needs must, and you were sure if you asked he’d be more than happy to cuddle you all evening if you asked it of him. He was incredibly accommodating that way.
With a tired sigh you pulled yourself from the bed and got ready for the day, doing your morning ablutions, picking out the clothes you’d need to wear, and trudging to the kitchen. You yawned as you glanced blearily around the room only to have the whiteboard on the fridge catch your eye.
You and Osamu had agreed to get the thing so the two of you could let one another know if you ran out of things and start a grocery list, since your boyfriend got a little cranky sometimes when he didn’t have the ingredients he needed. However you also used it to pass notes to one another, and it seemed he’d left one for you.
His handwriting was fairly neat though judging from the way it was a little sloppier than usual he’d either been in a hurry or too tired to really concentrate on what he was doing when he wrote it. However, you couldn’t help the fond smile that touched your lips when you read it.
Mornin’ Sweets,
Made yer favorite fer ya. It’s in the oven. Don’t forget to turn it off when ya take it out. Have a good day. Love ya.
-Samu
Curious you turned to the oven, which was indeed on, though set at a very low temperature, just enough to keep the food inside warm without cooking it further. You followed his instruction and turned the oven off before pulling the foil covered plate out, peeling the wrap back to see what he’d left you.
You weren’t able to stop the tender grin that spread across your face as you saw what he’d left you. He had actually made you your favorite breakfast, along with a couple side dishes he no doubt thought you’d like, including little sausages cut like octopi. It must’ve taken him forever, and no doubt forced him to wake up even earlier than he needed to be.
Your lip trembled slightly your heart feeling so full it almost hurt, touched at the clear care and thought your boyfriend had put into this for you. You honestly couldn’t help tearing up slightly even as you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. Eventually you managed to get your emotions under control and eat your breakfast feeling like you could almost taste how very much he loved you with each bite.
Before you left for work you made sure to leave him a voicemail, knowing he wouldn’t see it until later, but wanting to express your appreciation all the same in the best way you could for the moment.
It seemed he liked being able to hear your voice and your enjoyed your messages because it was the start of a new tradition. One where he cooked you breakfast every morning and you messaged him in some way in return to express your love and appreciation for your wonderful boyfriend.
#JayeRayWrites#how he shows you affection#miya osamu#osamu miya#osamu#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu x y/n#miya osamu x you#osamu miya x reader#miya osamu fluff#miya osamu fic#miya osamu scenarios#Osamu fluff#haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines#haikyū!!#haikyu fluff#JayeRayReplies
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like a midnight snack
A family of killers is discovered - blackmailed, and tasked with finding and trapping the man who may or may not be haunting the Heelshire manor after all these years. At first it seems nothing is working, until their son makes an accidental discovery.
Brahms Heelshire X Sidney Jade Leong, an OC. Not sfw.
Warnings- dubious consent. child abuse (mentioned), past/implied sexual assault / exploitation , misgendering/transphobia (mentioned). Canon typical Brahms being a creep. Trans male character with female coded language to refer to his body sometimes.
Of all the places Sidney expected to spend his summer, an old British country house that may or not be hiding a murderous pervert was not one of them.
None of his family expected that, either. That a potential victim would catch them on camera, hauling someone into their basement. Much less that he’d find them, and rather than going to the authorities… he’d dangle that possibility over their heads, and make them do him a favor in exchange for not being reported.
How were any of them supposed to know some overgrown white boy would be piloting a drone all around the woods at night? Or that he’d use the footage to blackmail them rather than try to actually help the person he saw them grab. They, begrudgingly, had to respect that. He had dedication to his cause.
His cause involved a number of properties his family wanted to take over, that were supposedly haunted. He had his sights set on a rural house in the UK, one that had been mostly abandoned since the last servants hired by the family fled, claiming some madman was hiding inside the walls.
Nowadays the family that owned the property still ordered food to be delivered, even if no one answered the doors. They still visited, every once in a while, but the visits were dwindling over time.
The Leongs were to contact the family and ask to stay in the house for a while, part vacation and partially to clean the place up. They were given a handsome sum to convince them to let them stay. It’s not like they needed the money - being old money and all- but they did need people to take care of the place. Everyone they hired to clean refused to come back, claiming something was wrong with the house.
And that’s how Sidney’s family ended up booked for a mandatory two week vacation in the middle of nowhere. Trying to figure out if there really was a crazed man living inside the walls, and if so, could they lure him out?
They tried all sorts of things to get him out… it was like the whole family was performing. They were used to that during their other vacations, taking turns playing bait or offering travelers a “safe” place to stay… but two weeks? It was exhausting.
Talking extra loudly and listening to any sound they heard, just in case. Not to mention all the extra work Sidney and his sister had to put in...
Despite their best efforts… Their first contact was a mistake.
Sidney woke up with a dry mouth. He was too hot under the covers and slowly peeled them back. Checked his phone - it was 3:46.
He got up and crept to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water, careful not to wake anyone. If he made too much noise they may think he’s the shut in they’re hunting, or that he found him, and they’d all be so disappointed when they found nothing but Sidney in his robe and bunny slippers sneaking off for some water.
The bunny slippers and the robe were a compromise. Make him look more casual, a little cutesy. Part of the intel they had received implied that the man in hiding reacted better to young, pretty women and that he loved to spy on them and watch them change. Classy.
So as an extra effort Sidney and his sister were expected to… loosen up a bit. Walk around in a towel more. Wear skimpy pajamas around the house. That kind of thing. Tori didn’t really mind doing that in her own home - in fact, Sidney sometimes complained about her walking into his room in shorts so short he could see her underwear. But it was different knowing a fully grown pervert with a child’s voice could be watching them from within the walls at any moment.
It honestly pissed Sidney off the most. He could hardly stand to be around his parents sometimes, especially when they pulled this shit. After his father’s injury Sidney took over the role of masked killer with relish, loving that he had more power in their dynamic. But that didn’t mean they stopped making harsh demands of him, risking his body for their gain.
He could only hope they wouldn’t do the same to Tori. They were always much softer to her, and he was grateful and resentful about it at the same time. Still… the winter nights he spent freezing when they wanted him to lure travelers. His fingers so cold he couldn’t feel them at all, his nose burning. They’d stopped it, luckily, when an old man offered him a jacket to cover up and then exposed his … true intentions to him.
Sidney didn’t see anything, luckily, but he did see the rage on his mother’s face as she beat the man to a bloody pulp.
After that, they let him wear a jacket.
They wouldn’t make Tori suffer the same way, would they? They didn’t push her as far. But how far would they be willing to go to catch this man? Sidney shivered reflexively, not sure whether it was because of the memory of the cold, or his next intrusive thought about how far they’d make Tori go.
She was a sophomore in college, for fuck’s sake. The guy’s tombstone showed he’d be in his 30s by now. If he was still around. That was the other thing - Sidney was only half sure that the guy was even there in the first place. There were some strange things that happened since they arrived, but it was nothing too major.
Sidney sighed and went to refill his mug in the kitchen. There were some noises… the house settling, probably. You couldn’t turn at every creak in the old country home. He passed the window and stopped, pretending to look for something on the counter.
Was that a reflection of…?
He studied the window, seeing the silhouette of a figure behind him. Wild hair and a baggy sweater. Tall. Maybe six feet. His father, the tallest in his family, was 5’8”.
He waited to see if he’d do something. It looked like the figure did, too. The guesses were right, then, he was 6 feet or so…
If it really was the guy they were looking for. Then again, what, would he have left and another creepy hermit moved in and took his place? Sidney remembered hearing the loose description of where he’d been staying all that time - a fully stocked room inside the walls, with a bed and a basin to wash up in, a ton of weird shit he’d been making, and porno mags stapled to the wall. He was sure it would be in high demand on the horny serial killer real estate market. After all, Sidney was there.
He snorted a laugh, and turned away from the window. Shit, if Sidney could see him then he could see -
A hand clamped down on his mouth before he knew it. He was pulled in closer to the man’s body, warm and smelling of mothballs. That was the first thing he got, other than the sweaty hand over his mouth and his other hand, stroking his hair.
It was weirdly… tender. Like he hadn’t held someone before. Sidney didn’t dare move an inch.
He was clearly a grown adult, judging by his strong grip and his size and everything about him… Was he smelling Sidney’s hair? The fuck?
He weighed his options here, as he felt himself be pushed against the counter. Almost caged in under his body. He could probably throw him off, but he’d have to get to the other end of the house immediately. What was it he did to the other people?
One he killed in the game room, for breaking his doll… Sidney had been nothing but respectful to that doll, he should be spared that fate.
Another he knocked out, and the last one - so young and pretty - he’d tried to pull into the walls with him. Is that what he’d do to Sidney? Maybe, since he’d probably seen Sidney wandering around in shorts and low cut shirts for at least a week now…
His parents found that part very funny when it came to Sidney’s involvement. It was worth a shot, sure, since Sidney was much closer to the guy’s age than Tori was. But they remembered when he’d come home from school and tell them about the boys who would ask him out… only for him to find out the next day it was all a dare from the other kids. Why would anyone, even a freak hiding in his own home, want Sidney?
But it seemed like he did, despite all that. Well, judging by the way that something hard was digging into Sidney’s back as he pinned him to the counter. His breathing getting heavy, his grip on his mouth loosening up a little, his other hand stroking Sidney’s hair. Savoring him like a midnight snack. He leaned in and murmured something soft to Sidney in a voice that was much too high to be coming from someone so large.
He could… he could work with this.
Sidney let out a needy little moan under his hand, and ground himself against him. It made the man completely freeze up. Shit, did I go too far? Sidney wondered. He didn’t need to wonder for long though, once the man realized what that meant. Again, he leaned in and spoke softly to Sidney, but this time he could just make out what he said.
“Good boy,” he said, barely more than a whisper.
Shit. Fuck. Damn it all to hell. This meant he’d been paying attention, but it implied so many things about what he’d seen.
Firstly that he knew Sidney was trans - and respected it? Despite seeing his tits a million times.
Ally of the fucking year, Sidney thought, as the man ground up against him this time, on purpose. He let out a shuddery little sigh above Sidney, leaned in and pressed the lips of his mask against his cheek. Did that part make him gay then? Or queer?
Secondly did he - did he hear the way Sidney’s parents talked to him, about him? Of course he did. He must’ve heard them say something rude, or … Call him a girl, of course. Little girl. Stupid girl. Bad girl.
Again, ally of the fucking year. If only they’d known the best trans ally alive was hiding in an English country house and spying on people this whole time.
He giggled and it made the man freeze up again. Sidney nodded, and nuzzled into his body, letting him continue.
He couldn’t deny that this was kind of… nice. Better than the hugs he’d be forced into by his parents when they were angry at him but wanted him to shut up and stop arguing. That was a low bar, but there were so few people he could get physical affection from that he didn’t at least partially despise.
Sure, he kind of hated that he’d been dressing so uncomfortably for a week in hopes of getting this guy to come out... and try something with him. But it worked, judging from the way he was holding him, so needy.
It was really tempting, honestly. Sidney hadn’t had sex in… a really long time. With a friend of his, who was sort of interested in him and knew he wanted to have some more experience. Her partners wouldn’t mind that they hooked up, she told them about it. Still, Sidney was much more monogamous by nature and so it took him a while to get used to being normal around her again. Even if it was mind blowing trans4trans sex with one of his best friends.
He wondered how Eris was doing right now. It was probably early night in the US, and he hoped she was having dinner with her girlfriends. Her lucky, lucky girlfriends…
It wasn’t that lecherous of him to appreciate how good his friend was at getting him off, was it? Not when she’d demonstrated for him a few times. She was good at it, she had experience and good communication, finding what Sidney liked and keeping at it until he was a horny mess under her. And then he’d pay her back, much less precisely, but she still appreciated it.
The shut-in - he supposed his name was Brahms - had neither of those things but he still intrigued Sidney. Maybe he could figure out something they’d both like.
He tapped the man’s hand, and pulled it off his mouth gently. It took him a second to gather his words again.
“Can I- can you put me on the counter?”
“What?” he asked, just sounding confused.
“I want to sit on the counter,” Sidney explained. “You can still - you know.”
The man - Brahms? - nodded and stepped back, let him climb up and sit down facing towards him. He could only see from the moonlight streaming through the window, but this confirmed it.
This was their guy.
He matched the description perfectly. Unkempt hair, broad shoulders and chest, wearing a mask like the porcelain doll they’d found in the parlor the first day they were there. His eyes were blown wide, watching Sidney beckon him closer, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him in.
He shakily pulled Sidney closer to himself, his hips right next to the counter. But didn’t move, as if waiting for… permission? Sidney leaned in, feeling his beard brush against his cheek.
“Go ahead.”
The man nodded, and gripped Sidney’s hips, pulling him closer still, and humped against him. Just a couple times, softly, experimentally. Sidney gave him a breathy little moan in encouragement and he picked up the pace.
He felt the full hardness of his length brush against him, hard. If they weren’t both still clothed he was sure the man could feel how soaked he was. Then he hit a part a little lower down that made Sidney shake for a second, suddenly sensitive.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “I think that was my hole…”
He just nodded and tried whatever he did again, until Sidney swore he could feel his cock head through their clothes, teasing at his needy cunt. The extra attention made him flushed, almost overwhelmed, and without realizing he wrapped his legs around his hips to keep him in place.
Sidney moved his hips to help him, desperately chasing the feeling. It was almost silly… he was holding the guy in place with his arms and legs, moaning for him, and he wasn’t quite sure what his name was.
“Brahms?” he asked.
“Yes?” His voice was little more than a whisper, deep and rich. Like he’d forgotten the higher voice earlier. “Sidney?”
He wasn’t expecting an answer, much less for Brahms to know his name. Of course he would, but… it’s strange, considering how much care and attention he must have for him. Sidney swallowed and softly stroked his hair.
“Good boy.”
Brahms let out a strangled moan, leaning into his touch. His movement was frantic, and he had Sidney up at kind of an angle so it was like every push of his hips shoved his cock up into him. Sidney’s grip on him tightened without him meaning to. They both ground against each other, just chasing their pleasure.
“Pull my hair,” Sidney asked. Brahms - yes, that’s his name - just looked at him. “Please.”
He hesitated a moment, and then complied. His large hand cupping the back of his head gently, before he pulled ever so slightly.
“Harder,” Sidney begged him. He hoped that he wasn’t overwhelming the poor guy on what must be his first time. “If you - if you want. I really, really like it.”
This convinced him, he could tell from the way he grabbed more hair, and pulled him back more tightly, until Sidney’s head jerked up to the ceiling and he moaned. His response was barely audible. “Thank you.”
They continued, Sidney overwhelmed from the way he kept grabbing him - groping his thighs and pulling his hair just hard enough to hurt. Brahms picked up speed suddenly, until finally he made one last thrust and collapsed, his full weight making Sidney fall back, against the cabinets.
They were both breathing heavy, and Sidney wondered for a second why he stopped - until he felt his cock twitching against him through their clothes, and warmth spread between their thighs. Oh.
He held him closer then, let him bury his head in the crook of his neck as he came down from his high. The porcelain dug into his neck but Sidney ignored it, just holding him and stroking his hair softly.
“Good?” Brahms asked, softly. He’s not letting go either.
“Yes,” Sidney said. “Yes, you were.”
#nasty attic originals#brahms heelshire smut#the boy 2016#brahms heelshire x oc#slasher x oc#Sidney Jade Leong
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Beels’ midnight snack
ASK: Vore story idea: It’s middle of the night Beelzebub going to raid the kitchen notices Mc light still on, knocks on their door instead to see what's up. He listens to them talk and doesn't outright ask to eat them but gives them the saddest puppy dog eyes ever as his stomach grumbles hungrily.
A/N: Sorry this took so long to write just been a heckic few days. But yes I love these ideas thank you annons! I see you, beel stan and I say im one of you
Warnings as usual vore in the story and lots of fluffy times.
it was 2 in the morning and Beel was off on his usual midnight snack run. Rose had tossed and turned for the past few hours and gave up on sleeping about an hour ago. She turned on her light and read the fantasy mystery book Stan had given her to hopefully ease her anxious mind enough to sleep. Nothing she tried was working though. Even the book was starting to bore her and she felt just as awake as ever. Luckily she had some later classes on Fridays, but it was still anxiety inducing to think about lucifers' disapproving look at seeing her sorry state from lack of sleep. She was walking across her room toward the personal bathroom to get a drink to maybe set her mind to sleep when she heard a very gentle knock on her door.
She smiled as she instantly recognized the gentle knocking as mammon would usually barge in, lucifer's knocks are more rhythmic, Asmo also doesn’t knock but just opens the door with a flourish and Belphegor sneaks in cause he’s sneaky and lazy, Levi usually texts a warning when approaching the general area, so that left Satan or Beel. Knowing what time it was it was most likely Beel on his way to the kitchen for a snack.
More knocking stopped her thinking and she quietly said “Come in!” she could feel how tired she is but her body was still wide awake. She smiled as the red head as he let himself in, having to duck slightly through the door way.
“Hey rose, sorry to come in so late, but I noticed your light was still on and wanted to check up on you.” He explained as he sat on her bed. She walked back over to the tall demon she had grown close too. “I know you usually don’t stay up this late. Is something wrong?” He asked looking at her. She looked away and out the window feeling a bit sorry for herself for being so bad at keeping a decent sleep schedule. Even with trying different positions, meditations, and some water nothing worked, she was even tempted to workout but then her mind would be a wake and she would be back at square one. “Hey.” a hand rested on her shoulder, shocking her out of her anxious spiral.
“I-I’m sorry, just got lost in thought is all.” she said looking back at him. She sighed, “I just couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me. I’ve tried everything!” she explained, turning to face the demon.
“Oh. do you want to talk about what’s on your mind? Maybe that can help. that usually helps Belphegor when he is restless.” Beel offered. He let her lead the way back to the bed, his stomach grumbling unhappily at the detour to getting food. He patted his stomach to try and calm it down for a bit, though he did wish he got some snacks while he sat down on the bed next to Rose.
She started to talk about anything that came to mind, from her anxieties on loosing sleep, to some feelings of being lonely and not wanting to be a bother. Beel listened as best as he could and gave a few pieces of advice when he saw fit, but he was starting to get really hungry, and she smelled so delicious. His stomach growled loudly demanding to be filled while she was talking.
“Oh you were probably on your way to go eat. I’m sorry for distracting you Beel, but thanks for listening to me ramble.” She said moving to go open the door. Suddenly Beel had an idea to help both of them!
“Wait.” he said reaching out. He flushed a bit at his outburst as she turned around. “Sorry, but I think I have an idea that can help both of us. Only if you want to of course.” he said looking at her with round hopeful eyes.
She tilted her head wondering what he was implying, her tired mind a little to slow at the moment. a few moments of silence filled the room then Beel sighed, thinking that she didn’t want to go with what he was implying. Rose was usually a bit slow when it came to figuring out something that was hidden. She was never very good at secret messages or any little codes, so only when Beel stood up to leave saying sorry for his hunger getting in the way, then she figured it out.
“Hold on!” not it was her turn to be flustered at the outburst as she grabbed his wrist. He looked at her with some surprise then smiled. “I-It’s ok you can eat me. Sorry it took a bit to figure out, I’m just tired. And honestly being with you will probably help me sleep too.” she added.
He smiled down at her and crouched to be face to face. He booped her nose to ease the moment with a silly gesture, then he cupped her face and nuzzled their noses together. He sometimes wasn’t the best with words but Rose meant the world to him, She had connected his family and had become a very important addition to it as well. He loved her. And with these thoughts he happily hummed “thank you” to her before moving her head into his mouth. He was salivating heavily at her sweet sent before so once his lips closed around her shoulders she was already soaked. She giggled as the soft and squishy tongue swirled around her face and slicked down her blond hair. He moved his hands down to gently hold her waist as he lifted her off of the floor and swallowed. Her head and shoulders were easily pulled down his throat and his tongue wasted no time covering her upper body in saliva, drinking in her flavor. He swallowed again and felt her head pop into his growling stomach he shuddered at the wonderful sensation. No matter how many times he ate her these feelings never got old, he always wanted them more. He tickled her stomach with his tongue and purre as she wiggled a bit trying to get away from the prodding tongue. He stated to tilt his head back as only her legs were left out. He swallowed again and again, slurping up her legs like large noodles. He savored her feet as they passed through his mouth and down his throat to join the rest of her. Rose was pushed forward into the squishy and stretching walls as her legs and feet finaly joned her in the warm space.
“You ok?” Beel asked as he sat on her bed against the headboard.
“Yep!” rose said. She moved around and heard his purr grow in volume a bit. Once she was settled she started to run her hands over the velvety walls. Beel sighed happily at the comforting sensation and that his feelings for her were confirmed. In this moment she was his, she loved being within him and he loved her. “thank you again, Beel.” she yawned then chuckled. “Guess all i needed to fall asleep was to be eaten.” she giggled as Beel chuckled around her.
“Glad to help. goodnight Rose.” Beel said laying back on her bed. She shifted again to be curled up in his purring and warmth before her breathing evened out and she grew still. Beel smiled feeling not only physically full but his heart felt full as well. As he started to drift off as well he added one last thing to the best midnight snack he’s ever had. “I love you.
#obey me#soft vore#safe vore#shall we vore#Ahhhh its finaly done#again so sorry its taken a bit to write out#I loved this senario so much!#thank you#asks#obey me!#roses ramblings#my writing
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JC getting small gifts from his disciples on the anniversary of when they joined the sect (maybe in your Rumor has it verse, if you don't mind)
JC Love Month 2020 Day 3
Home in Lotus Pier
Following after BeeTober Day 24
I don’t mind this at all, so have some disciples gifting thoughtful things to JC on the day he saved them and also some JC/JXY bonus ;)
When Jiang Cheng wakes up he’s surprised to find Jiang Xiuying not in bed with him. It causes him to grumble, because Jiang Cheng really prefers to wake up to his love in his bed, but he guesses there is nothing to do about it.
So he gets up, and gets ready for the day alone, same as he normally would—as he did for years before Jiang Xiuying became a fixed point in his routine—but he hates every second of it.
It must be evident in the frown on his face, because when he makes his way to breakfast, people keep out of his way and Jiang Cheng is glad for it.
He had no problem functioning in the morning for the last years, but now that he usually has Jiang Xiuying by his side in the morning he forgot how to be a normal human being without him.
Jiang Cheng is almost ashamed to admit it, but he misses his morning kiss and he is not at all too happy that he has to do without it, apparently.
His angry frown turns into a confused frown when he sits down for breakfast and finds a box next to his bowl of congee.
“What is this?” he asks into the room, because someone is bound to be around, but he doesn’t get an answer and Jiang Cheng heaves out a sigh.
He tugs the box close and opens it and he’s surprised to find that his favourite tea is in it. It’s hard to come by lately, as it is entirely seasonal and only grown in a small spot in Sect Leader Yao’s territory, and after everything that happened at the Cloud Recesses a few months back, he already mentally said goodbye to it.
He wouldn’t be getting any more supplies from Sect Leader Yao after all.
“What is this?” Jiang Cheng asks again, but it’s softer this time, more questioning, and he’s not at all surprised when arms suddenly encircle him from behind.
“Good morning,” Jiang Xiuying says into the skin on his throat and follows it up with a short kiss as well.
“You left me alone,” Jiang Cheng immediately says, entirely aware of how whiny he sounds, and Jiang Xiuying squeezes him.
“I know, and I’m sorry. But there was a problem with Fu Zhihao and she didn’t want to talk to anyone else.”
That immediately makes Jiang Cheng tense.
“What happened?” he asks, already half up in case there is anything he has to do, but Jiang Xiuying pushes him back down.
“She had a flashback or something similar,” Jiang Xiuying tells him. “Woke up terrified out of her mind and Jiang Sushan is out of town as you know. They thought it would be best to call me.”
“Good thinking,” Jiang Cheng says because Jiang Xiuying’s calm presence has helped Jiang Cheng with dealing with volatile demonic cultivators a lot in the past, so he gets that urge.
“How is she now?” Jiang Cheng asks when Jiang Xiuying doesn’t volunteer more information and he shrugs.
“As well as you’d suspect. She remembers where she is now, but the episode left her shaken,” he says and Jiang Cheng nods, because of course it would leave her shaken.
“Anything I can do?” he asks, even though he trusts that Jiang Xiuying would have already told him if there was anything for him to do.
“I trust you to know how stupid that question is,” Jiang Xiuying says, rather predictably, and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at him.
It brings his gaze back to the box with tea and Jiang Cheng pulls it close again.
“Do you know where this came from?” he asks Jiang Xiuying, who pouts at him.
“You’re not even asking me for a kiss?” he says and Jiang Cheng feels that is entirely unjustified.
“You’re the one who left before I woke up and who made me get ready without my morning kiss. It only feels fair,” Jiang Cheng gives back and Jiang Xiuying tugs him close, just like Jiang Cheng secretly hoped.
“Duly noted,” Jiang Xiuying whispers right against his lips and then finally brings their lips together.
Jiang Cheng is aware of how cheesy it is, but it’s only then that his day starts to feel right.
“You’re entirely too spoilt,” Jiang Xiuying mutters when they part and Jiang Cheng shrugs, totally unrepentant.
“And whose fault is that?” he wants to know, because it is Jiang Xiuying who spoils Jiang Cheng with his love, and who seems to know that well enough because he doesn’t reply to his question.
“So the tea?” asks again when Jiang Xiuying settled down across from him.
“I’m not sure,” Jiang Xiuying says, which means he damn well knows where this tea comes from but is entirely too unwilling to tell Jiang Cheng.
“Rude,” Jiang Cheng says but he keeps the box close by his side.
It is damn good tea after all.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng doesn’t entirely forget about the tea, but it goes very far into the back of his mind with how much he has to do.
There are a few of the minor Sects who want to make up for their previous mistakes, so Jiang Cheng hosts them as graciously as he can with a glowering Jiang Xiuying to his right, but he’s glad to see that a few relationships are mended.
When two minor Sect Leaders come by shortly after another, Jiang Cheng is almost too busy to notice the bottle of his favourite alcohol that somehow turns up at dinner.
“Xiuying?” Jiang Cheng calls out when he realizes that it is really the alcohol from a small town in Qinghe and he takes a moment to savour the flagrant smell of it.
“What, my beloved?” Jiang Xiuying says, completely unashamed and Jiang Cheng flushes slightly, like he always does.
It’s kind of a problem, if Jiang Cheng is being honest.
“Stop that,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, and Jiang Xiuying dutifully nods, even though they both know damn well that he will not stop it.
“Where does this alcohol come from?” Jiang Cheng asks to distract himself and Jiang Xiuying smiles before he shrugs.
“From Nie Huaisang maybe?” Jiang Xiuying suggests and Jiang Cheng frowns.
“Unlikely,” he gives back. “He would have given this to me personally, because if there’s a gift from him, there’s also something he wants,” Jiang Cheng says, because Nie Huaisang has never given him anything without a demand.
“I don’t know then,” Jiang Xiuying replies, his tone implying that he does know where it comes from and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him.
“You’re lying to me,” he accuses him and Jiang Xiuying is by his side a second later, pressing an apologizing kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I promised to keep it a secret, until you figure it out,” Jiang Xiuying explains, and that is a bit better than being outright lied to.
“I see,” Jiang Cheng whispers and pulls the bottle close to pour a cup out for Jiang Xiuying as well.
Jiang Cheng has an inkling of what is happening, especially given the date today, but it doesn’t quite make sense, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.
“You already know,” Jiang Xiuying slowly says but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.
“I suspect,” he corrects and Jiang Xiuying laughs.
“But you don’t trust it,” he says, and Jiang Cheng is surprised to hear a wistful note to his voice, almost as if he’s sad.
“Not yet,” Jiang Cheng says and mentally calculates when the next gift should arrive if his suspicion is right.
He almost hopes it’s not, because he doesn’t understand why that would warrant being given a gift. But he’ll just have to wait and see.
~*~*~
When the next gift arrives, Jiang Cheng is not entirely too surprised, because it goes along with his expectations.
Especially when he sees that it is a small vial of a potent cream Jiang Sushan has developed that soothes the scars on Jiang Cheng’s chest when they act up.
It’s hard to make and Jiang Sushan always loudly declares she doesn’t have the time to make more should Jiang Cheng have even a tiny fraction left but Jiang Cheng knows that Fu Zhihao has been working in the infirmary almost since she came to Lotus Pier.
It’s not entirely impossible that Jiang Sushan taught her how to make the cream. And it’s not entirely impossible that Fu Zhihao took entirely too much time out of her schedule to make it for Jiang Cheng.
“You look unhappy,” Jiang Xiuying rightfully says when he finds Jiang Cheng holding the pot of cream and he comes over to smooth the frown out from Jiang Cheng’s forehead.
“Is this from Fu Zhihao?” Jiang Cheng asks, even though he knows the answer already.
“Maybe,” Jiang Xiuying says with a small shrug and Jiang Cheng sighs.
“This is so stupid,” he complaints. “What is it even for?” he demands to know and Jiang Xiuying levels him with a look.
“Do you really have to ask?” Jiang Xiuying wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods.
“This is so time-consuming to make, I should know, because Jiang Sushan bitches to me about it every single time she has to make it. Fu Zhihao has only been helping Jiang Sushan for the last few months; why would she focus on this, instead of learning some practical things?”
“You are really goddamn stupid sometimes, do you know that?” Jiang Xiuying shoots back and Jiang Cheng pouts at him, because he has found that it is a very effective way to stave off Jiang Xiuying’s ire.
“Do not even start with that,” Jiang Xiuying grumbles but leans in to kiss Jiang Cheng, just like he had hoped. “You truly are spoilt.”
“By you,” Jiang Cheng gives back and threads their fingers together, because Jiang Xiuying is close enough and because he can.
Jiang Cheng has half a mind to go and find Fu Zhihao to ask her why she feels the need to make this, but he figures it might not be the best idea.
Fu Zhihao is still skittish, doesn’t trust anyone but Jiang Sushan and Jiang Xiuying, though she doesn’t seem to mind Jiang Cheng much, but Jiang Cheng still thinks it would be a bas idea to go there and question her.
And besides, if he is right about this, then the next gift should show up in a few days and it should be from Jiang Xiuying who he can question that much more easily.
For once in his life, Jiang Cheng decides to wait.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng realizes his mistake when he wakes up to beautiful red wedding robes on his bed. Jiang Cheng’s breath catches as soon as his eyes fall on them, and Jiang Xiuying takes the opportunity to slide back into bed behind him, and hug him to his chest.
“Good morning,” Jiang Xiuying whispers and peppers kisses over Jiang Cheng’s shoulders, even as Jiang Cheng reaches out with a shaking hand to touch the robes.
“What is this?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice trembling and Jiang Xiuying huffs out a laugh into Jiang Cheng’s neck.
“I trust you to be more clever than this,” Jiang Xiuying says and Jiang Cheng cranes his head to look around to Jiang Xiuying.
“Why? Why today of all days?” Jiang Cheng asks because that he doesn’t understand.
“What better day than today?” Jiang Xiuying shoots back and Jiang Cheng breaks out of his arms to turn fully around to him.
“You do know the significance of the dates,” Jiang Xiuying says when Jiang Cheng stays silent and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.
“I know the dates, but I don’t understand.”
“What’s there not to understand?” Jiang Xiuying asks, his whole face going soft in a way that Jiang Cheng is entirely too weak against. “Tell me.”
“The first gift was from Luo Ganting,” Jiang Cheng starts and it makes sense, that he would get that tea for Jiang Cheng, because after the whole thing at the Cloud Recesses, he reconciled with his sister, as far as Jiang Cheng knows.
“The alcohol came from Zhou Nuan,” Jiang Cheng goes on.
Zhou Nuan is one of the few Nie disciples that turned to demonic cultivation and that Jiang Cheng reached soon enough to save her.
“The cream is from Fu Zhihao and the robes are from you,” Jiang Cheng finishes with a whisper and he reaches out for the robes again.
“I just don’t understand why,” Jiang Cheng admits.
“But you do know the dates,” Jiang Xiuying says again, and of course Jiang Cheng knows the dates so he nods.
“It’s the dates I found you, when I took you to Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng confidently says, but he frowns when Jiang Xiuying shakes his head.
“No, this is where you’re wrong,” he says and pulls Jiang Cheng into his embrace again. “It’s the dates you took us home,” he says with emphasis.
And this, Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand.
“Those were the worst days of your lives,” he argues. “I really shouldn’t be getting gifts for this.”
“Those days are the start of our new lives,” Jiang Xiuying gives back and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s temple. “We nearly died on those days, yes, and it was objectively the worst, but then you saved us, and you took us home with you. You gave us a home, and so those days also mark the starts of our new lives. Our lives as your disciples. And that, my beloved, is something to celebrate.”
“You are all so sentimental,” Jiang Cheng sighs out but he has to bite back some tears as well.
“You’re one to talk,” Jiang Xiuying chides him. “You’re the one who remembers when all of us came to your Sect.”
Jiang Cheng has nothing to say to that, because Jiang Xiuying is right, after all. He remembers all of the dates.
But it still leaves one question.
“So, what is this?” Jiang Cheng asks, leans more firmly back against Jiang Xiuying, and he tugs the robes close.
They are exquisitely made, Jiang Cheng knows enough about clothes to know that, and Jiang Xiuying huffs out an annoyed breath.
“Really? You really have to ask that?”
“Well, I don’t want to reach the wrong conclusions,” Jiang Cheng says with a small smile and Jiang Xiuying warningly squeezes him.
“What wrong conclusion could there possibly be?” Jiang Xiuying demands to know and Jiang Cheng slightly turns to smirk at Jiang Xiuying.
“You could always be asking for my blessing as a Sect Leader to marry someone else,” Jiang Cheng says, and the words don’t even hurt that much, because Jiang Cheng is not so insecure to think that they are the truth.
Jiang Xiuying is probably going to have his head for even daring to suggest this and going by the angry flush he can see on Jiang Xiuying’s cheeks, he’s not that far off.
“Sure, I usually am in the Sect Leader’s bed to beg for some blessing,” Jiang Xiuying bitingly gives back and then he deflates. “Don’t be stupid, my beloved,” he whispers.
“I’m not,” Jiang Cheng reassures him. “I just maybe want to hear you say it,” he then admits and puts his hands on top of Jiang Xiuying’s. “Indulge me?”
“Always,” Jiang Xiuying says and presses a kiss to the soft skin under Jiang Cheng’s ear. “My beloved, will you marry me?” Jiang Xiuying then asks without hesitation or sweet words and Jiang Cheng turns around in his arms at that, straddling his fiancé and he puts his arms around Jiang Xiuying’s neck.
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng tells him and then immediately leans in for a kiss.
There is not much to say between them after that, and they are too busy trading kisses to even think of something anyway.
The red robes get a little bit wrinkled that day, but it’s not as bad as it will be on their wedding day, Jiang Cheng is sure of that. And he’s definitely looking forward to that.
Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!
#bt writes#jclovemonth2020#the untamed#mdzs#jc/jxy#rumor has it#fluff#appreciation#proposal#just some happy fluff#Anonymous
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Happy birthday to:
@venelona! I set out to prove that I could do a gift on time, and even if time zones have come between us, it’s totally the 4th right now for me, dammit. So here you go, stolen directly from your conversation on @lailosh‘s server and based of course on these comics.
(Omfg, I told my daughter I was happy I finished a birthday gift on time and now she’s nattering to her class on Zoom about how today is her mom’s friend’s birthday and the teacher is asking if we’re doing anything)
Anyway
The bedroom was quiet. Not too quiet—the air conditioner hummed and traffic noises filtered in from the busy street outside, as usual. It was just the quiet of an early-evening bedroom with no one in it yet, sleeping or playing on their phone or doing you-know-what…
…Not that the room’s usual occupant ever did much know-what. In fact, she never did any of it. He definitely would’ve noticed. He noticed everything.
For example, he knew the moment the sun’s last rays finally died out and warm, sweet darkness began sinking into the room, pooling under her bed and creating the ideal space for someone – something – like him to emerge.
Nightmare permitted himself a tiny grin, letting his tentacles writhe in anticipation. He’d been resting and gathering his power for over a month, building enough strength to invade the waking world. Let her think he’d grown tired of trying to reach her again after…after that, her shocking indecency, showing him all that soft warm naked skin and touching him with no he had to focus
Yes. She probably thought she’d won and driven him off with her horrible wiles! Well, what would she say when he came for her—no, when he completely platonically attacked her in her own world, where she thought she was safe? There was nowhere to run from him in her nightmares, but she could always wake up. Here, though…
Nightmare took the magical equivalent of a deep breath, running his tentacles along the barrier between his world and the reality inhabited by humans. It was a delicate process, but he used the barest touch of power to find the barrier’s weak spot, nudge the folds of subspace aside and insert his tentacles one at a why did this feel so inappropriate time, until he was through!
The space under her bed was…not spacious. In fact, if he hadn’t been so viscous, Nightmare could well have found himself stuck. It was enough to make him contemplate giving up and slipping back into his own world, where an eldritch being could stretch properly and not think terrible, untoward things from something as innocuous as penetrating into her wo—
No! As a being of infinite cosmic horror who fed on the suffering of lesser creatures, Nightmare had no intention of backing out now…not the least because he couldn’t back up any further without hitting the wall. What kind of pathetically undersized dwelling was this?
At least he knew her routine, and that she’d be in here soon enough: she was doing the dishes, and then it was time for her shower. Should he strike while she was rummaging in her closet for her favorite cotton robe, the one with the stupid pink flowers? Or lie in wait until she came in afterward, threw her towel off, and eventually got into her pajamas? …Assuming she bothered wearing any. He never watched that part, no matter how much he…well…
Nightmare squeezed his eye shut. Things would be different after tonight, he vowed. Once he’d given her another glimpse of real terror, she’d never taunt him again! He would unleash his most hideous abominations upon his not-scantily-clad victim, and her fear would make him strong enough to finally see—
—a set of dainty black paws wandering in through the half-open door. The skeletal creature froze, slipping a little further back under the bed. Since when did Frisk have a damned cat? And where was it going?! Surely the beast wasn’t stupid enough to approach him?
The cat took a few hesitant steps, then stopped and growled under its breath, tail lashing. Good! Let it make all the noise it wanted. If it got close enough to grab, he’d—
Nightmare was so busy thinking of ways to make the cat sorry for existing that he didn’t notice one of his tentacles eagerly creeping out from under the bed, reaching to grab the little animal…until the cat’s paw went whapwhapwhap and smacked him with needle-sharp claws. “Oww!” he snarled. “You…!”
The kitchen was just down the hall; to his alarm, Frisk had turned the water off. “Nero?” she called. Her footsteps drifted toward the bedroom, and Nightmare crammed himself back against the wall. “Ne—geez!” she yelped as the cat came rocketing out of her room. “What’s wrong with you?” the young woman demanded, her voice trailing after him. “Come back here and answer me, you little…!”
That was too close. Nightmare breathed a sigh of relief, and considered reaching across the room to shut the door; his powers of telekinesis had all but vanished as his…other talents developed. But no, she was an intelligent young lady, and she’d wonder why it was suddenly closed. Besides, the substance coating his limbs would leave telltale greenish-black traces. He just had to hope she wouldn’t notice the flecks of it on the carpet that had been whacked off—that had been forcibly removed by the cat clawing his tentacle.
So the skeletal abomination settled himself to wait, very patiently, as befitted a creature of his age and magical stature. He was always happy to pass the time devising new tortures to inflict upon his victims. Frisk never failed to disappoint him, provided she had clothes on, and once he’d had his way with—once he was finished platonically terrorizing her, she’d never say any ridiculous things about naked or marriage ever again!
Only a minute later, Frisk came back down the hall. “I know, Mom,” she was saying, presumably on the phone. The hall light came on; Nightmare steeled himself for the bedroom light, but to his intense relief, she went to the bathroom instead. “Yeah, I’m gonna go to bed early tonight. I’ve got new contacts, and they’re giving me a headache.” There was a rummage through her medicine cabinet, then some vaguely cloth-sounding noises. “Of course Nero’s doing fine. He just got his wet food, and…he’s already heading to the litter box again. Goody.” Sigh. “Are you guys having fun on your amazing cruise that you wouldn’t take me on?”
Ah. That explained the cat’s presence. And it was also excellent nightmare fuel: he could make her see her parents out on the ocean, having a wonderful time until, say, the walls of the ship split open and grew teeth to begin devouring the passengers, or some kind of disease started spreading that made people turn inside out…Frisk was always susceptible to body horror. Oh, yes, he knew how he could take advantage of her. …Platonically!
“Thanks, Mom,” she said loudly, breaking in on his definitely-not-filthy thoughts. “Have fun. Love you.” He heard her set something down in the kitchen, then sigh, padding back down the hall.
Nightmare settled down to wait again, only to flinch at the sound of sudden, rapid footsteps: Frisk burst into her room and leapt onto her bed with a little “Whee!” The mattress flattened beneath her weight, mashing into his skull; he cursed silently in the tongues of a thousand mortal worlds as Frisk flopped onto her back. “Oh, man, what a day,” she muttered. “Stupid contacts.” Yawn. “Don’t care about the shower, do it in the mornin’…”
That was…remarkably cute, Nightmare thought, then tried to un-think it as she rolled onto her side, relieving some of the pressure. If only they were in his realm! Her mind would be an open book, and he could effortlessly seize her subconscious and steer it in any direction he chose. In this world, he had to wait till her breathing slowed, then grip the carpet and glide out from under the bed on a layer of the noxious stuff coating his body.
Once his torso was free, he silently eased his legs out and rose to his knees. His tentacles quivered with eagerness as he started to turn toward the b—
“Gotcha!”
…If Nightmare had had any friends, and one of them had asked him the likelihood of his next victim not just taking him by surprise, but grabbing him by the neck with rubber kitchen gloves? He would have laughed, and then killed them, because they were clearly insane and he didn’t have any friends.
But by all that was unholy, his theoretical dead friend was not insane. Instead of giving Frisk a (perfectly chaste) glimpse into her own personal Hell, Nightmare found himself being scruffed like an indignant kitten and hauled toward the light switch; instead of latching onto her and ripping her flesh from her bones, his tentacles had just enough time to form a protective seal over his eye before the room was flooded with foul, searing light.
“Oh my God, shut up!” Frisk shouted over his wails of pain. “It’s just one lightbulb!” She shouldered the door open and began dragging him down the hall. “You’re not melting or anything! But if you want to, go for it—it’d probably be an improvement!”
“How dare you!” The eldritch skeleton flailed with both arms and kicked at random, to no avail. “Release me now!”
“Why?” she snapped. Nightmare made another series of agonized noises as she pulled him all the way into the brightly lit bathroom. “I’m not letting you go till you apologize and we get everything cleaned up!” She slammed the door shut and locked it for emphasis. “Got it?!”
He still couldn’t bring himself to uncover his eye. “How? How did you know—”
“The cat had a bunch of gross slime all over his paw! Who do I know that gets gunk everywhere and smells like a hot dumpster? Gee, let me think!” Frisk still had an iron grip on his neck, fingers digging between the vertebrae. With her other rubber-gloved hand, she banged open the linen closet and began pulling things out, piling them on the toilet lid. “I had to scrub it off him so he wouldn’t eat it and die or something. So then I thought to myself, Wow, Self! I already had to wash one dumb thing I didn’t want here! Why not go for a double?”
The implication hit him as she yanked a knob and started the shower full-blast. “You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed.
Frisk stopped dead. For a moment, Nightmare entertained hopes of mustering enough strength to break loose and reach the light switch. When one tentacle eased free, though, she pivoted until he was fully facing the vanity lights, holding firm as he writhed in agony. It felt like miniature suns burning into his slime and bone…
…but only for a moment. The next thing he knew, Frisk had turned him away again, leaning over to shield him from the light. “Believe it or not, I don’t like hurting you,” she said severely. “But you’re in my world now, literally, and you’re not Mr. Big Scary Hentai Monster. You’re more like a vampire in a crappy horror game—all I have to do is turn the lights on. So, you’d better behave. Got it?” Her grip somehow tightened. “Here we go. Hold your breath!”
Nightmare didn’t have time to request any further details, because she was already ripping back the shower curtain and stepping into the tub with him, holding him under the water as she pulled the curtain shut. “There! I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” she said cheerfully, patting his topmost tentacle. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”
It did not feel nice. The hot water felt like…like…it was bad and he hated it. Yes. It was terrible, and not oddly pleasant or soothing once he got used to it, not at all like being massaged by a thousand tiny hands. In fact, he hated it so much that he relaxed, telling himself he was tricking her into dropping her guard.
Behind him, Frisk hummed in satisfaction and reached out of the curtain. Nightmare’s tentacles began to loosen almost imperceptibly, but constricted again as the human tapped on them. “Hold still. I don’t even know if this stuff hurts when it gets in your eyes…well, eye. But like I said, I don’t get off on torturing people.” Something – probably a bottle – made a sploot sound as she squeezed it. “You just smell really bad.”
Nightmare couldn’t help flinching at the first cold, rough touch of the shower loofa. “I do not ‘get off’ on it,” he informed her. “I can’t help what I am, can I?”
“Hmmm. Yeah,” she said absently. “Yeah, you absolutely can. At least, you can control what you do.” A strange floral scent filled the room as she began a brisk, gentle scrub-down, removing most of his protective slime; he unconsciously folded his legs to sit forward more comfortably, letting her angle the showerhead so that more water streamed over him. “Would you die if you went too long without scaring the crap out of someone?”
The skeletal monster had to suppress a shudder as her fingers slipped between two of the tentacles. No one had touched him like this in…ever, or at least as far back as he could remember. “Probably,” he muttered, telling himself to calm down. It was perfectly innocent, just a wretched human daring to lay hands on him, earning the most terrible punishment imaginable— “Would you die if you went for too long without eating?” he added.
Scrub. Scrub. “Well, duh. But if I want a burger, I don’t sneak into the cow’s house to taunt it first.”
Nightmare did shudder this time as her hand glided over the same spot over and over again, leaving a very sensitive layer of ectoplasmic flesh. His tentacles were stirring with interest, and the more firmly he told them to stop it, the more they all wanted to be washed. One was actually angling itself to let her rub it harder. “I…fine! Just hurry it up.”
“Aww, see? It’s not so bad,” she chirped. The tentacle stretched luxuriously, and Nightmare fought to keep another one from rising to demand the same treatment. “At this rate, you’ll be nice and clean in just a few hours!”
Hours?! He did his best to open his eye, raising one hand to protect him from the light. “You’re joking. Right?” She made an indifferent noise, and he tried to grab at the loofa with his other hand. “Let me do it, then!”
“Nope,” said Frisk, giving the shower curtain a threatening nudge with her elbow; he twitched as the light flickered around its edge. “Just relax, okay? Let your loving wife take care of you~”
He felt his entire skull flush bright green. “You are not my wife!”
The human made a pouty sound. “How can you say that, honey? After all we’ve been through together!” The scrubbing intensified. “I know you wanted more romance. Is that why you came all the way here to see me?” The scrubbing paused. “How did you get into the real world, anyway?” she asked, much more seriously.
Nightmare willed more of his tentacles to peel themselves off his skull, and to behave themselves. “With magic. Don’t waste my time with stupid questions.” The light was just a bit dimmer in here through the shower curtain – enough for the pain to start receding – and he needed to adjust to it; no point formulating an escape plan if he couldn’t see what he was doing.
Frisk slowly removed her grip from around his neck. “Okay, then. I see how it is.” She heaved a sigh, then picked up the bottle again.
This was his chance—Frisk was distracted, with both hands occupied, and his vision was clear. Nightmare grinned in silent malice, flexing his bony fingers as they lay in his lap. Most of his power was still depleted from entering this world, but he had more physical strength in one tentacle than ten mortal men. And this was one slim, soft, pliant young woman! He could take her—he could overpower her with virtually no effort!
It would be ridiculously simple: turn around, grab her, and force her to turn the lights off, for starters. Then they could talk about how she had treated him like a misbehaving cat, and—
She chose that moment to drop the body wash and make him jump. “Crap! Sorry,” Frisk said.
The monster made what he hoped was an agreeable noise and picked up the bottle, which was pretty slippery. “Here,” he murmured. “If you’re going to—”
Without warning, Nightmare sprang to his feet and whirled around, backing the startled human against the shower wall. “Now,” he snarled, “you daaaaaaaaaaaaaugh”
Frisk watched, disbelieving, as the dripping-wet monstrosity jerked backward, arms flung up to shield his eye, as though she had turned a spotlight on him and also thrown some holy water. “I was wondering if you’d noticed,” she remarked. “Did you think I was actually talking with my mom that whole time? I just didn’t want you to know I was taking my clothes off.”
“Why?!” he nearly shrieked. “Why would you do that?”
“‘Cause I didn’t want them to get gunked up! That stuff doesn’t look like it washes out. You’d better help me get it off the carpet, by the way.” Frisk chuckled, and that teasing note crept back into her voice, the one he’d heard so many times in his own nightmares: “If I lose my security deposit, it’ll be your fault. How do you plan to compensate me for that, I wonder~”
Nightmare couldn’t speak; he just emitted a stream of “Y-y-y-y-y—”
“Yyyes, I’m naked,” she agreed, retrieving the bottle. Almost against his will, Nightmare’s eye cracked open in time to watch her set down the loofa, peel the gloves off, goop some body wash onto her hand, and begin blithely rubbing it over her skin. “No offense, but I don’t want you all over me yet.”
The monster’s eye bulged so hard that Frisk snorted. “I meant this, dummy!” She indicated the slimy loofa, and leered at him. “What did you think I meant?”
It was tempting to throw himself out of the shower and hope for death’s sweet embrace, but to his steadily increasing horror, the skeleton couldn’t move his feet. As his gaze swept unwillingly up and down her body, the way her skin glistened as her hands squeezed and stroked it, Nightmare’s desire to grab her shifted…and his tentacles agreed.
Frisk was opening her mouth to say something when one appendage snaked up and began petting her shoulder, which was somehow even warmer and smoother than it looked. “Whoa,” she remarked, looking from it to him and back with wide eyes. To his dismay, her mouth quirked a little. “What happened to romance, Nightmare? Didn’t you want to dance in the moonlight, eat Peking duck, or whatever?”
“I’m n-not—” Nightmare tugged at the errant tentacle, first with his hand, then his magic. To his very dismay, Frisk was reaching up to poke at it, giggling as it brushed her cheek. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded of the world at large.
As if mocking him, another tentacle lurched at the young woman, making him stagger forward till he had to catch himself with his hands on either side of her. Frozen in place, Nightmare unwillingly watched a few errant suds trickle down her neck, sliding merrily off her collarbone and along the side of her breast before continuing to the brave new worlds beyond—
“Um,” said Frisk, still sounding more amused than perturbed. Her eyes met his, then flicked to her left meaningfully.
Aaaand of course another tentacle had slid around her wrist and along her arm. “Oh, my,” she said, bemused. Nightmare’s soul did a backflip as the young woman moved forward, the tentacles drawing her closer, till her breasts were nearly touching his soaking-wet jacket. “Are you actually coming on to me, or—eep!”
That was probably due to yet another tentacle worming around behind her and running up and down her back, eliciting a little moan. The skeleton wanted desperately to wrench himself free, or at least tell her to be quiet, but…
Frisk was flushed, her breath coming quick and shallow. Nightmare watched her hands come up to rest on his ribcage, picking off bits of slime. “What now?” she murmured.
Nightmare wanted to tell her that she’d won, and please go put on clothes now so he could leave and never come back. He also wanted to tell her that this wasn’t how he’d envisioned their next encounter, or that young women in his day knew better than to trap extradimensional beings in the shower with them; he wanted to be very stern about doing this kind of thing the right way, because she deserved the right way, not…this.
He wanted to stop himself as his fingers rose to brush her damp hair off her face and his skull drooped to rest on her bare shoulder…but he didn’t.
He didn’t want to give up and let his tentacles wind around Frisk to pull her against him, or to put his arms around her, encasing her entire body. But he did.
“Nightmare?” Frisk whispered.
It wasn’t romantic. But if she didn’t care—
Nightmare summoned his scant reserves of magic, and raised his hand long enough to snap his fingers.
The lights went out.
~
Not long afterward – just a few days after her parents got back and collected Nero, with only a few inquiries as to what that smell was – Frisk went on a shopping trip that raised several eyebrows: she bought several shower curtain liners, a dozen bottles each of Amber Sunrise and Moonlit Jasmine body wash, every single Stain Stick on the shelf, and a steam cleaner.
If that wasn’t strange enough, her neighbors soon started complaining about odd noises in the middle of the night, and at least one of them made rude remarks about how she had to be hoarding trash or something. When the landlord came in for an inspection, though, all he saw was a scrupulously clean apartment with a faint, lingering odor that he couldn’t identify.
It was hard not to see a heap of folded plastic in the corner of her room, but there were no bloodstains – or recent unsolved murders that he knew of – and anything else she chose to use it for was none of his business; Frisk accepted his admonishment to keep it down, whatever it was, and promised to maintain her new cleaning schedule.
Her neighbors didn’t hear much of anything after that. There was nowhere to run from him in her nightmares, but that was fine—she was in no hurry to wake up. After all, she wasn’t the one who’d been caught, was she?
#happy berfdeh#fluff#it was a choice between spicy and punctual#i know what i need to work on and spice ain't the problem
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Hi! New follower here but I love your writing, for the prompt list I would love your take on 29/30 with Kuroo! 💕💕 ty !
A/N: Thank you for requesting! I got a little carried away with this and it got really drawn out, hope you enjoy!! I could see myself writing this as a fully-fleshed out story, tell me if you’re interested :)
also for @thenerdyrebel i said I'd make it up to you with Kuroo fluff huhuhuhu
Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Kuroo needs a girlfriend for a week. You’re set on making him regret asking you for a favor.
Your relationship with Kuroo was anything but serious. That was a given, considering the two of you were only dating because Yaku dared Kuroo. It was simple, really.
“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend for a full week,” he prompted, knowing Kuroo’s busy schedule between volleyball and college exams. That mixed with his awful personality and he was lucky if a girl stuck around for a conversation.
Still, Kuroo couldn’t say no to a bet, and he had just the person in mind.
“[Y/N],” he approached you one day during lunch, expression screaming mischief. You looked at him doubtfully.
“What are you planning on involving me in today, Tetsurou?” you weren’t unfamiliar with his scheming nature. Three years in the same class made the two of you more than just acquaintances, and you’d been known to do each other favors in times of need.
“Remember that time you stayed up late watching anime so I wrote your essay for you so you could sleep the next day?” he smirked at you. You nodded. “And remember how you said you owed me big time?”
You sighed. “What?”
“Yaku said I couldn’t have a girlfriend for a week,” he says bluntly. You look at him confused.
“You want me to find some poor girl that wants to date you? Hun, that’s impossible,” you dismissed, ignoring the pounding in your chest.
“No, no. That’s too risky. I want you to date me,” he grinned, looking at you like this was a fantastic idea. You fought down the heat rising to your cheeks. Date me? You thought to yourself. Date me? He wants to date me?
“Well, fake date.” Oh. The disappointment sunk in. That makes more sense.
You shook your head. It was no surprise Kuroo didn’t want to date you, but you could still get something out of this. “Buy me noodles every weekend for a lunch,” you replied, gaze unwavering.
Kuroo sighed. That was a lot. “Two weeks?”
You shook your head. “Three.”
“You’re on.”
The two of you shook on it, and you were officially “dating.”
Kuroo wasn’t getting off the hook that easily, though. If you were going to be his girlfriend, you were going to be the most obnoxious girlfriend he’d ever had. You were going to make everyone question why he would ever want to date you.
At first, you were very subtle about it. You did everything you thought a good girlfriend should do, like make him lunch and wear his team jacket. To confirm the whole thing, you made sure Yaku was watching you.
Unfortunately, you were a horrible cook and a bit of a slob.
“This is inedible,” Kuroo groaned as soon as Yaku left the room. You smiled at him deviously.
“You don’t want to eat your girlfriend’s homemade cooking,” you faked a pout. He smacked the back of your head.
“We both know you can’t cook [F/N],” he reminded you, taking out the lunch that he prepared from home. Unlike you, Kuroo had some skills in the kitchen. You were about to leave to buy lunch (because obviously you weren’t going to make yours) when he placed a second container in front of you.
Oh.
“You think I’m letting my girlfriend eat some shitty school lunch when I know she can’t cook?” Was he blushing?
You wanted to laugh at him, really, but he was being too sweet. Instead, you sat down with him and prepared to eat. Still, you couldn’t resist…
“Aww, did your mommy make it for you?” He kicked you under the table. You just laughed.
You continued to be a “good” girlfriend, shouting at him in the hallways and clinging to his arm to make it difficult for him to walk. You tried to keep your antics to a minimum; after all you couldn’t let him catch on too early.
Good girlfriends even visited their boyfriend’s volleyball practice, you determined. So you thought you should surprise them! And as your surprise you accidentally opened the clubroom while the boys were changing… you tried to help set up equipment and somehow balls were all rolling out of the gym… truly you were a disaster. Finally, Kuroo approached you.
“Don’t help with clean up,” he set stubbornly. You looked up at him with big, round eyes feigning innocence.
“Why not? You guys don’t have a manager to handle things so it’s the least I can do,” you smiled at him. He hugged through his nose.
“Nope. Don’t want my girlfriend staying up late for me. Go home and get some rest,” he demanded, walking away from you.
“You won’t even walk me home,” you whined, hoping you could get a few more hours out of fun with him. Kuroo turned to you, eyes stern.
“No.”
You didn’t argue with that.
Still, your antics continued for the next few days. You showed up to school late, you’d wear your uniform wrong, you’d talk loudly during class, whatever you could do to be obnoxious. People would be absolutely appalled that the captain of Nekoma’s renowned volleyball team was dating you.
As usual, you went to Nekoma’s practice. Today, you were holding tightly to Kuroo’s hand (“Yaku has some doubts,” he told you that morning. “We’ve got to amp it up.”). You walked into the gym and sat on the sideline, already banned from touching equipment. Truly, you didn’t mind this. The team greeted you as they entered, and you pulled out a notebook to get started on your homework.
Occasionally, you’d grab water for the team but you were so tired from being a nuisance during the day, you really didn’t have energy to interrupt practice. And, although you’d never say this if anyone asked, you got to wear Kuroo’s team jacket and watch him play. He looked so into it, he was having so much fun. You wondered how it felt.
Although previous practices you’d either been removed by Kuroo or chosen to leave when the sunset, tonight you had lost track of time. Before you knew it, the moon was high and the boys were starting to clean up.
“Hey.” Kuroo walked up to you. “You’re still here?”
You pretended you didn’t feel the heat rising to your cheeks when he noticed. You looked to your notes, as if the answer to this situation would be there. “Whoops!” you stuttered with a nervous laugh. “I guess I got distracted watching…I’ll just…go… now…” You hastily stood with your bag, getting ready to leave. The quicker you got home, the less risk there was of someone lurking in the dark.
“Wait a few minutes,” Kuroo said absentmindedly, putting away volleyballs. “I’ll walk you home.”
You wondered if he knew what his words did to your poor heart.
Patiently, you waited by the door watching as he and his team cleaned up the gym. Finally, he grabbed his bag and ushered you out the door with him.
Out of habit, his hand reached to grab yours as the two of you walked. You thought about teasing him, wondering if he needed a thumb to suck, too. But the quiet hum of crickets and the calm sky told you this wasn’t the right time.
Your hand stayed firmly in his the whole walk home.
The next day, you were back to your usual antics. Today you had a magnificent plan. You had eaten an omelet for breakfast this morning, but asked your mother to put extra onion and garlic in it. When you got to school, you made sure everyone knew.
“Hhhhhello darling,” you smiled at Kuroo. He looked like he was about to vomit.
“Did you eat a dumpster? Your breath stinks,” he wafted a hand over his face, trying to dismiss the smell. You smiled sweetly.
“Aww don’t be like that. I just hhhad some garlic. You hhhave got to try omelets with garlic, they are just delicious. Especially hhhomemade,” you trailed on, making sure to drag out all of your h’s so Kuroo got the full effect.
“Wow, look at that. Class is starting,” he turned forward in his seat, discreetly shoving a few mints your way.
To make matters worse, Lev had finally caught wind of your relationship. “You’re dating the captain?” he asked you during lunch (you stopped by to tutor occasionally). You grinned up at the first-year, ready to put your plan in place.
“Yes, he’s really dreamy.” Lev made a face that said he disagreed and it took all your willpower not to laugh. “But he hasn’t kissed me yet. I wonder if I did something wrong…”
As if on cue, Kuroo walked into the first-year classroom, lunchbox in hand. “Oh [F/N], there you are. You wanna eat?” he held up his second meal, looking at you expectantly. You turned to Lev bidding goodbye, but he had other plans.
“Captain, how can you not kiss your girlfriend?” he asked, confused look on his face. “You’re so lucky to have such a pretty girl and you won’t even treat her right…”
Kuroo glared at you, handing you the lunchbox swiftly.
“If you’re not careful, someone might steal her,” Lev teased, but the look on his face was mischievous. You wanted to laugh. He’ll only care if they steal me in the next few days, you thought.
Kuroo opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the bell. Instead, he smirked in a way that sent chills up your smile. “See you at practice, Lev,” he threatened.
His grip on your hand as you walked back to class was tighter than usual. He looked down at you curiously, trying to figure out what you were planning. “You think I’d kiss someone whose mouth smells like cat shit?” he quips as you walk in class.
Seeing there’s no Yaku around you give your honest reply. “Don’t worry, Tetsurou, I know you wouldn’t kiss me if my mouth smelled like flowers and fairy shit,” you retorted, getting out your schoolwork. “I just want to have a little fun,” you winked.
Too busy getting ready for class, you didn’t hear his quiet protest to your statement.
Class continued as usual. You sat quietly through the day, head occasionally falling. Kuroo stifled a laugh, you looked bored to death. He wondered how much you slept last night.
Partway through English, a note slipped onto his desk. In messy handwriting is said "how much money would you give me to flip this table right here, right now, in the middle of class?" It took willpower not to start laughing right there. He scribbled back quickly "I'll add one more weekend of noodles " and passed the note back to you. He saw you smirk when you read it, and write a hurried reply.
Before the note got back to him, you were on the floor, gripping your thigh in pain, and your desk was on the ground.
Kuroo tried to ignore the fact that from this position everyone could see your striped underwear. Instead he was worried about the incredible look of pain on your face and the curse words stringing from your mouth.
After a moment, you sat up, arm still rubbing your thigh but in a far less incriminating position.
"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "Leg cramp."
The teacher opened their mouth, clearly about to give you a scolding, but Kuroo was one step ahead. He slipped the note, which he still had yet to read, into his bag, and stood up to help clean up the mess you made. He pulled you up to stand, hand gripping your arm to support you.
"I'll bring her to the nurse," he assured the teacher, rushing out of the room.
As soon as you go to the hallway, the two of you burst into laughter. "You're crazy," he assure you. "Absolutely insane."
You smiled at him brightly. "You're just jealous you didn't have the balls to do it yourself," you retorted, tripping over yourself with laughter. "You hate English, anyways."
Kuroo shook his head. "Sure but I wouldn't flash the whole class to get out of it," he said through a fit of giggles. "You're wild [F/N]."
You shrugged. "So where do you want to go now?" You inquired, wandering the halls. Kuroo looked perplexed.
"Well we're not going to the nurse's office and I doubt he's expecting us to go back to class," you smiled at Kuroo. "We've got an hour until practice. Where would you like to go?"
Kuroo felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't know what to say.
You smiled at him, and he wanted to be the only person who got to see you look like that. "I know, come with me." You grabbed his hand and started walking.
He wasn't sure how long the two of you walked for. Five minutes? Ten? Usually, silence with you was deafening. You were always trying to crack a joke or make noise. But this was comfortable. He was comfortable. Finally, the two of you arrived at a park close to Nekoma. It wasn't anything special, really, but it felt private. Like the whole world was put on pause for the two of you.
You sat on the swing, mindlessly rocking back and forth. You were staring at the ground.
"So when all of this is over," you still weren't looking at him. "Do we fake a huge breakup? I mean, the whole school knows at this point." You grinned at him. "Wouldn't want them to think you're stuck with me much longer, would you?"
Kuroo smirked. Whatever you could dish out, he could serve back. "What?" He teased. "Afraid if you stick around much longer you'll fall for me for real?"
Your laughter was music to his ears. He leaned against the swingset, watching you move back and forth slowly. "I would never," you teased back. "I'm far too sophisticated for the likes of you," you assured him, swinging back and forth.
"Right," he nodded. "Polka dot panties scream sophistication. Were they pink, too?"
Your ears turned bright red. “They were striped and blue and I didn’t expect you to look!” you retorted (although the last part was a lie, you were fairly certain everyone in the class was looking)
“Hmm,” Kuroo purred. “They were? I think I’ll have to check…” he walked towards you on the swing, hands out in front of him. You were quick to jump off and run from him, but he chased after you nonetheless.
The two of you ran around the park playfully, going up ladders and down slides and Kuroo pretended to grab at you (if he truly wanted to, you were sure he’d be able to catch up to you). Although you had always been the clumsy one out of the two of you, Kuroo had his moments as well. Soon, he was tripping over his own two feet and bring you down with him.
Somehow, you ended on the ground laughing, Kuroo’s form hovering over yours. It was close, closest you’ve been with someone since you were a little kid on a playground. But the way his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you from truly falling, and the warmth radiating from his body and his huge grin… it was worth it.
Eventually, the two of you calmed down and Kuroo stood, offering you a hand. You accepted quietly. “Back to school?” you suggested. He still had practice. Nodding in agreement, the two of you walked hand in hand back to Nekoma.
When you got to school, there was something noticeably different about the air between the two of you. Although you continued your banter, something had eased the tension. No one on Nekoma’s team was sure what exactly it was, but their captain seemed far more relaxed than he had for months.
During break, Lev walked up to you. “[L/N], has he still not kissed you?” he whispered like it was your little secret. You froze, discreetly reaching for your mints. You hoped Yaku didn’t hear him.
You thought back to the park. He hadn’t kissed you, but somehow it felt more personal than a kiss. “Don’t worry about it, Lev,” you assured him with a friendly smile. “Besides, I think you have bigger things to worry about…” Yaku was walking your way, surely to retrieve the tall first-year.
Kuroo watched the two of you talk and walked over to you. “Is he making you uncomfortable?” he asked defensively. You realized how close he was standing to you and suddenly were awfully glad you grabbed that mint.
“Nope!” you assured. “Why? Jealous?” you grinned, expecting nothing to come of it. Kuroo had to get back to practice anyways.
Instead, he swept down and planted a firm kiss on your cheek. “Just a bit,” he whispered in your ear, before turning around and heading back to practice. The warmth of his breath on your ear and his lips against your cheek lingered. For a moment, you wished this week would never end.
But practice had to end, and Kuroo walked you home like normal. It wasn’t until he was back at his own home, finishing homework, that he remembered the note placed on his desk. He went into his bag to find it and uncrumpled it to see your note, his, and then below it in familiar handwriting…
Are you asking me on a date? I accept
He groaned, throwing the note across the room and covering his face with his hands. Warmth pooled in his chest as he remembered the feeling of his hand in yours and the way you laughed running across the playground… he never wanted it to end.
Although he tossed and turned in bed kept up with thoughts of you and of tomorrow being the last day you’d be ‘fake-dating,’ he eventually fell into a dreamless slumber. After all, the only dreams he had were when he was together with you.
The next morning, you were late for school. Not late like you were later than usual, or you barely got to class, but that you walked in, interrupting the whole class. You were visibly disheveled, and dishing out apology after apology. The teacher took you into the hallway.
It was hard to make out what they were saying, but it was clear you were getting a stern talking-to. Eventually, you made it back into the classroom, awkwardly sitting in your seat and trying to avoid the noisy eyes of your classmates.
You weren’t exactly a class clown, but you were definitely someone who caught everyone’s attention. After spending the whole week drawing eyes to yourself, he wondered why now you decided to hide from it. You had nothing to hide from, he thought.
At lunchtime, he approached you like normal, with an extra lunch in hand. “So, detention?” he asked. You nodded solemnly. “Again?” It had been a while, but for a bit, you were a serial-detention-attendee. It was never really your fault, you were just late and busy and school never really clicked with you. Three years of having class together and Kuroo noticed it, too.
But you’d worked hard to improve your record, and it had been months since your last detention. Still, the slip weighed down on your desk like a metal anchor, dragging you down. You sighed defeatedly.
“Stupid me. I just had to walk my siblings to school… make sure they had lunch money… next time I just won’t show up,” you muttered to yourself. Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows. You weren’t usually one to get down, even when you had rough patches.
“C’mon it’s just some time after school. You’ll be fine,” he guaranteed you, brushing off your concerns. You nodded, smiling weakly.
“Yeah. You’re right,” you mumbled, eating your food dejectedly.
You weren’t very talkative for the rest of lunch.
Kuroo racked his mind, trying to figure out what he could do to make you feel better. He thought about offering you some noodles, but he did enough of that. A card? No, too cheesy…
Before he knew it, it was the end of the day and you were cleaning up the classroom before heading off to your dreaded detention. Kuroo stayed back to help, figuring it was the least he could do.
You’d been strangely quiet all day and Kuroo hadn’t been sure what to do. Finally, when the two of you finished up, he thought it easiest to dismiss himself. The silence between you was deafening.
“I’ll just… see you Monday then…” he trailed off, heading to leave the classroom. It was only the two of you in there.
“Wait,” you called after him. He stopped immediately, turning to face you. Your head was to your chest, staring at your shoes, and your hand awkwardly scratched the back of your head. You spoke quietly, but he listened closely to make out your words. “Could you… I know you don’t have volleyball today but could you maybe… could you wait for me?” You breathed in deeply.
“I can’t let my mom find out I got detention, she’s been so happy lately and if she finds out she’ll… she’ll…” Tears threatened to pour from your eyes. Kuroo didn’t say much, but he could see the stress weighing down on your shoulders.
“C’ mere,” he motioned. You moved towards him slightly, and when you were within arms reach, he tugged at your wrists to pull you into a warm embrace. “It’s okay,” he whispered to you. One arm circled around your waist to secure yourself to him, while the other drew circles soothingly into your back. “You’re going to be okay,” he promised. When he spoke, you actually started to believe it.
You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his neck, sobbing quietly. “It’ll be alright,” he promised, kissing your forehead. For a while, the world stopped and you just relished in the comfort of being completely honest and safe in his arms.
Eventually, Kuroo pulled away but kept his forehead pressed to yours. “Hey,” he whispered.
“I got your shirt all wet,” you apologize through tears. His hand moved to wipe at your cheek and he smiled.
“No worries, I looked better without it anyway,” he teased. You laughed tiredly. “I’ll wait for you, and then we can walk home together. We’ll tell your mother we went out on a date, okay?” He owed you at least four.
You nodded, too tired to argue, and wiped away the tears on your cheeks. “Right. I’ll see you at the gate?” Kuroo smiled at you.
“I’ll be waiting.”
True to his word, he was there when you got out of attention. You were started to look more like yourself again, with color in your cheeks and light in your eyes. Still, there was something sad about your demeanor.
You didn’t greet him, and he didn’t greet you, but the two of you fell into step with one another without question. You were simply meant to be side by side at that moment.
“So… the week is up,” you reminded him with a sad smile. Kuroo felt a weight rest on your shoulders. You were right… a week had passed and there was really no reason for the two of you to “date” any longer. But…
“What do you want to do?” he asked you. You were the one who was in a tough spot, and he didn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability. He just wanted to see you happy.
You breathed in sharply. You seemed nervous for some reason, and Kuroo prayed silently that he hadn’t been putting pressure on you. “I’ve been thinking actually. About that day at the park.” You turned to face him. He stopped, giving you time to speak.
“I have a confession. Don’t laugh at me?” you asked anxiously. Kuroo grinned at you.
“I’ll always laugh at you,” he promised and you punched his arm playfully. “All right, all right! No laughter from me, not a peep.” He hoped his face didn’t look too hopeful.
“I know I said I wouldn’t, but I think I fell for you for real. Like, really, totally badly,” you admitted, eyes tracing the ground. “And I get that you did this as a joke, and I’m sure you asked me because I’m the one person who you’d never end up dating but I wanted to be honest with you.” Kuroo felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. You looked cute rambling. “And you don’t even have to respond! Or walk me home! We can stage a breakup, or just tell everyone it didn’t work out or-”
There was something warm against your lips.
Kuroo’s lips were against your lips. He pulled away, stupid grin still clear on his soft, cherry-flavored lips.
“Why would I break up with someone I’m head over heels for?”
#kuroo tetsurō#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo fluff#kuroo imagine#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#hq kuroo#haikyuu kuroo#haikyuu kuroo tetsurou#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu fluff
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