#arms up and makes a cup of tea to sit at his elbow even though he can't drink it because he looks so sad.
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[CN] Li Zeyan’s Reliance Date (Eng Translation)
⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 依靠之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡
⚠️ Additional Warning ⚠️ while the entire date is not spice-themed, but the steamy parts are borderline dangerous and highly not recommended if you don’t qualify for the 17+ age rating (CN server). so, the call is yours~ :>
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 1】
MC: [on the call] …We need to find some local media outlets that we can potentially partner with for our ad campaign ASAP.
MC: [on the call] Also, email me a copy of the revised design proposal for the main exhibit booth.
As soon as I hang up the phone, a flurry of work notifications causes my phone to vibrate again. I roll over on the soft couch and can’t help but heave a sigh.
MC: Sigh…
[MC’s Company Name] has undertaken several major projects this year, and all of them have been executed very successfully. The company’s reputation is also gradually expanding beyond Loveland City.
Last month, our company bid for a large-scale project in collaboration with Copenhagen City Council and Loveland City, and I worked overtime for over a month for this.
However, just as we were about to secure the project smoothly, we were maliciously intercepted by the competing company Shuanjian Media. In the end, it was due to LFG stepping in that we were able to resolve the situation with a narrow escape.
Even though the project has been secured, a lingering sense of defeat from being backstabbed and making critical errors remains with me, refusing to dissipate from my mind.
Perhaps because of this, I’ve recently spent the majority of my time being on top of all kinds of tedious work, afraid that if I don’t handle them in time, it will lead to further consequences.
The sound of steady footsteps gradually draws near, and I turn my head to see Li Zeyan walking towards me. He places a cup of hot Longan tea on the coffee table next to me.
LZY: This is already the eighth time a certain someone has sighed tonight. What’s so thorny about the project that got you on edge?
I put my phone down and, somewhat coquettishly, open my arms toward the person in front of me.
MC: We’re planning an exhibition for the project in Copenhagen. Just finalized the venue today and now ironing out the details.
He readily responds to my cue and enfolds me in his arms. His fingers trace their way up my neck, massaging the skin there in a soothing manner.
LZY: If I remember correctly, the preparation period for this exhibition is quite long, and there’s no need for your recent overtime to catch up on the schedule.
MC: You’re right, but the coordination needed for various aspects of a multinational project is quite intricate. Starting earlier allows more elbow room…
MC: Plus, the reason I’ve been working overtime isn’t just for this project. The business interview you’re starring in will also be recorded tomorrow.
MC: It’s the final episode of the year, so I cannot afford any slip-ups!
LZY: You’ve already confirmed the program sequence with me three times today. What could possibly go wrong?
While speaking, Li Zeyan sits down next to me and draws me into his arms.
MC: After all, the external press would absolutely kill to have their names in the show where the CEO Li of LFG is making an appearance. So, I definitely need to be 200% cautious.
Nestled in his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, I make a conscious effort to relax my somewhat tired brain.
LZY: If you encounter any difficulties, reach out to me at any time.
MC: I’m facing difficulties right now, and I’m in urgent need of CEO Li’s encouragement!
I pucker my lips and lift my head to approach him. The corners of Li Zeyan’s lips curl up slightly, and he lowers his head–– a soft, warm touch descends before leaving just as quickly.
Though fleeting, the tenderness of the moment washes over my heart. I nuzzle his chin with the tip of my nose, feeling perfectly content.
LZY: [chuckles indulgently] Dummy, you’re so easily satisfied.
MC: Why wouldn’t I be? What could be more soothing than a kiss from CEO Li?
MC: As for work matters… CEO Li has already helped me a lot, so I’ll work hard and handle the rest on my own!
LZY: We’ll talk about the “working hard” part later. But if you keep dawdling like this, the bathtub is gonna need a refill of hot water.
MC: Hehe, right now, you should say something like, “Honey, it’s bath time~”
LZY: …
Ignoring the speechless look in his eyes, I lazily shift my position and nuzzle his neck, then stand up with a smile.
MC: Would you like to join me for some relaxation time?
I notice that his fingertips seem to tense up for a moment. Before he can really come and “arrest” me, I make a face at him and dash into the bathroom.
—
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
—
【Chapter 2】
Soaking in the warm bath, I feel the fatigue in my body dissolving into the water.
Just as I’m about to use my phone to find a drama to watch and completely clear my mind, work messages begin popping up one after another on the screen, and I subconsciously click on them.
MC: [to herself] So, the collaboration partner we agreed on before has backed out…?
As part of our tourism project with Denmark, we are planning to establish recreational and promotional zones in both cities, and we have found an experienced collaborator in the relevant field to partner with.
MC: [to herself] Everything was already talked through and all set, so why are they bringing up issues with the company’s capital chain at this critical juncture?
I feel my insides somewhat burning with rage, so I give Anna a call. She also sounds just as angry and swiftly catches me up to speed on the situation.
Anna: [on the call] I did some digging, and it turns out one of the shareholders of this company has a very close personal relationship with the owner of Shuangjian Media.
MC: [on the call] Shuangjian Media?
Isn’t that the black-hearted company that tried to sabotage our tourism project?
Anna: [on the call] We initially partnered with them because of their experience in cross-border tourism projects, but now wrangling with them is more cumbersome than it’s worth. I think it might be better to take this opportunity to switch to another company.
MC: [on the call] …let me think about it.
I release a sigh and hang up the phone, then bury my face in the water, blowing bubbles as a mild head throbbing creeps over me.
The perfect company… As I ponder on this matter, a face flashes through my mind.
As a matter of fact, I have casually mentioned this project to Li Zeyan before, but he didn’t show much interest in it.
Should I… go ask him?
Even though I know in my heart–– LFG is the ideal choice that can’t go wrong, for some reason, I can’t seem to bring myself to voice my thoughts.
I can’t always turn to Li Zeyan to help resolve my problems every time I run into one.
No longer in the mood to soak in the warm bath, I reach for the shampoo and press the nozzle, intending to wash up as quickly as possible.
I press down hard twice, but the bottle only emits a sputtering sound, and the last remaining bit of shampoo drips pitifully into my palm.
MC: …
Akin to a sudden spark explosion, it instantly triggers a denotation of all the built-up frustration inside me.
I take a deep breath, jerk myself up from the water and throw on a robe, intending to head for the cabinet to find a new bottle of shampoo.
Little did I know, the moment I step onto the tiled floor, I feel my feet slip out from under me, and my body uncontrollably begins to topple forward––
With a loud thud, the immediate sensation of pain shoots up my knee.
MC: [in pain] Hiss…
The pain causes my eyes to burn hot, and I slide down onto the bathroom floor, rubbing my knee.
A flurry of somewhat anxious footsteps echoes outside the door. Moments later, the door is flung open, revealing Li Zeyan’s face, tension written across his entire countenance, an expression that is rarely seen on him.
LZY: [panicked af] What happened?
The blast of cold air from the open door causes me to shiver. Noticing this, he closes the door before squatting down beside me.
MC: …I slipped and banged my knee.
As he looks at my slightly reddened knee, a hint of helplessness crosses his expression.
LZY: [sighs with infinite indulgent resignation] Restless.
His warm thumb massages the area around my reddened knee, causing the jumble of fretful emotions in my heart to instantly turn into a surge of grievances and pour out.
I blink, trying to dispel the mist clouding my vision. The finger caressing my skin pauses for a moment before suddenly landing at the corner of my eye, catching me unawares.
LZY: [even more indulgently] Crying because it hurts too much?
MC: …no, it’s not that!
MC: It’s nothing serious, just that I got a call from Anna earlier. There’s been… a minor hiccup with the tourism project.
Pouting my lips, I recount to Li Zeyan the “bad news” I’ve just received.
LZY: Do you need my help?
This seems to be the second time he has asked this question. I struggle with myself for a moment before shaking my head.
MC: There’s… no need for now, but if I can’t handle it myself, I’ll definitely reach out to CEO Li.
Hearing me respond this way, Li Zeyan doesn’t press further, and he simply places his palm on the side of my knee.
LZY: Does it still hurt?
Listening to his tender tone, I can’t help but gently hook my finger around his.
MC: It hurts… I can’t get up.
LZY: [laughs helplessly] When a certain stubborn someone fixates on something, there’s no stopping her, but she’s oddly honest when it comes to being afraid of pain.
MC: I’m just being a little persistent, is all. I can’t always have you be my safety net every time there’s an issue… ouch!
My knee twitches slightly, and a dull ache once again surges through my knee, reminiscent of spreading out along silken threads.
LZY: You can’t solve two things at once, so take them one at a time.
LZY: Do you want to take care of your knee first, or deal with the work matters?
MC: …knee.
The air in the small bathroom with thick with white steam, and even Li Zeyan’s faint sigh seems to blend into the steaming hot vapor.
LZY: [lets out a complex laugh; it’s of sb who is all-knowing of all happenings but is infinitely indulgent towards you] Then listen to me.
MC: [confused] What…
–
Before I can finish my sentence, Li Zeyan has already shown me through his actions how I should “listen.”
A soft touch imprints on my skin, and a burning sensation spreads from my knee along my skin to my entire body.
I jolt slightly and freeze for a moment. The patch of skin kissed by that softness tingles, and it seems like even the pain is slowly dissipating.
LZY: Don’t fidget; it might make the pain worse.
The deep, slightly hoarse tailing note of his voice, accompanied by the sound of running water, causes me to subconsciously draw my leg back a little, only to have it restrained in place by that hand again.
A gentle sensation, carrying with it a slight chill, seems to pepper its way over my knee, and the painful spot feels as if it’s being licked with cherishment and care.
All the senses in my body seem to be concentrated on that one spot, and I can’t help but take a light breath.
MC: Li Zeyan…
LZY: [SO SOF– but you can also hear he’s THERE–] Hm?
MC: …It’s nothing, I just wanted to say your name…
The fingers supporting my knee tighten slightly, and a surge of scorching breath sweeps over me, swallowing my trailing notes.
I follow his breath and, bit by bit, probe deeper, my heart in my chest pounding in synchronization with his increasingly rising body heat.
Warm water continues to gush from the showerhead, soaking both Li Zeyan’s clothes and mine without distinction.
A body temperature hotter than mine gradually closes in, and I feel as if I’m drowning in this steamy heat swirling in the air.
The lingering colorful bubbles from the shower gel float into the air, then burst open with a pop, leaving behind a soft chime drowned out by the sound of water.
—
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
—
【Chapter 3】
Even though I gave up on the bubble bath halfway, ended up having to take a second shower, and by the time I went to bed, it was already the middle of the night, I still woke up early today.
[MC’s Company Name] annual business interview program is scheduled to shoot its final episode today, and Li Zeyan will be appearing as the heavyweight guest in this installment.
I have postponed all my other work and arrived at the studio early to ensure every detail of the shoot is absolutely flawless.
The soft white light from the softbox projects onto the light gray background wall, dimly reflecting the shadows of people hurrying around.
Standing in front of the filming equipment, I direct the production crew to adjust the set.
MC: This table needs to be moved a bit more. It doesn’t look well-positioned at the moment.
MC: Turn the reflector on the front left a little more to the right… there, perfect!
MC: The set is almost ready. I’ll go and check on the guest first.
—
After saying hello to the supervisor, I head to the dressing room.
Li Zeyan, clad in a suit, sits in front of a vanity mirror, his bangs swept up, causing his somewhat piercing eyes to be enhanced with an even deeper intensity.
The moment I walk in, those eyes precisely capture me from the reflection in the mirror.
MC: How is the preparation coming along, CEO Li?
LZY: Not bad. Is everything taken care of on the set?
Detecting a hint of jest in his tone, I walk over with a smile.
MC: Yup, that’s why I’m here to check in on this side of things–– CEO Li is our important, esteemed guest after all, so we can’t afford to be negligent.
MC: Therefore, today, my entire day belongs to you, CEO Li.
I wink at him through the mirror and catch a subtle smile playing at the edge of Li Zeyan’s lips.
I sit down on a stool nearby and watch the makeup artist styling Li Zeyan.
From this angle, his ocular orbit and the bridge of his nose appear even more defined, accentuating the depth of his eyes all the more.
MC: CEO Li’s side profile could outshine many stars on the cover of fashion magazines without competition.
LZY: [laughs in spite of himself] …always laying it on thick.
Even though he says this, the slight arch at the tip of his brows betrays a hint of delight.
Spellbound, as I continue to watch him, my phone suddenly vibrates twice, and a message from Kiki pops up––
Kiki: Boss, great news!!
In the chat window, a push notification jumps into my sight, and a few familiar words grab my attention.
MC: [reading the news] “Shuangjian Media Faces Major Crisis! Multiple celebrities under its banner are implicated in tax evasion scandals, and the investigation is underway. The amount of tax evasion has reached up to…”
Upon seeing the number below, I take in a sharp breath of air.
With such a large amount of tax evasion being investigated, it’s sure to land them in serious trouble.
Although I have caught the wind of some rumors before, suddenly so many people being exposed at once seems more like a deliberate action…
A vague idea surfaces in my mind. I instinctively look towards the man not far away, only to lock eyes with him directly.
LZY: MC.
I haven’t even noticed when, but his styling is already complete, and the makeup artist has left the dressing room, leaving only the two of us.
The slightly slim-fitted suit highlights his already tall and straight stature, and his slender fingers unhurriedly adjust the cufflinks. He looks in my direction, lifting his head slightly.
LZY: Help me out.
I raise my eyes and see a rose gold collar pin loosely hanging from the collar of his light gray shirt.
I walk up to him and carefully fasten the collar pin. My fingertips inadvertently graze against the skin of his neck, eliciting a slight quiver of the Adam’s apple beneath the collar.
A somewhat scorching breath caresses my bangs, leaving a tickling sensation.
LZY: [laughs in amusement] Why are you zoning out?
His warm fingertips are on my neck, gently grazing the skin there intermittently.
MC: Just saw some good news that came as a relief for body and mind, that’s why I was a little distracted.
MC: Shuangjian Media, the company that intercepted [MC’s Company Name] before, has hit a roadblock… I wonder who “played the hero to uphold justice.”
I smile and wink at him, trying to discern any inkling of a clue from his expression that would confirm my guess.
However, he simply lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a barely perceptible arc forming on his lips.
LZY: [chuckles softly, but that’s a mastermind chuckle i tell you lmao] That’s quite nice.
MC: Li Zeyan, you…
A knock on the door cuts me off, and the voice of my assistant comes from outside.
Assistant: Boss, CEO Li, it’s almost time for the shoot to begin.
MC: Got it, we’ll be right there.
I purse my lips, suppressing my urge to inquire further, and loosen my hands, intending to escort Li Zeyan to the filming studio.
To my surprise, the pair of arms holding me within show no intention of letting go. He lowers his eyes, his gaze intent upon me.
LZY: Given the importance of this shoot, there ought to be an additional step in the preparation process.
With his head lowered, Li Zeyan leans in towards me slightly. A gentle and familiar breath assaults my senses, and his soft finger pad presses between my lips and teeth, hinting at something ambiguous.
I cradle his face and lift myself up on my toes.
Our breaths intertwine for a brief moment, but a gentle ripple is left in my heart, reminiscent of a dragonfly lightly touching the water’s surface.
MC: So, even CEO Li needs a little encouragement before stepping in front of the camera?
LZY: I learned it from a certain someone.
The light in those deep eyes remains locked onto me, shimmering slightly, radiating a glow that seeps into my heart.
LZY: And it’s very effective.
—
Such scenes are run-of-the-mill for Li Zeyan. His tone remains steady throughout and devoid of any trace of tension.
LZY: The economic situation this year isn’t conducive to expanding the business scope or making risky investments, but there are more opportunities in the lower-tier markets compared to previous years…
As I watch Li Zeyan through the camera lens, the soft light, which leans more on the cooler tone, accentuates the depths of the man’s countenance all the more.
He speaks at a measured pace, but each word is uttered with an inexplicable sense of certainty.
Host: Although CEO Li mentioned just now that this year isn’t favorable for expanding business extern, LFG seems to be steadily venturing into new fields this year.
LZY: As a matter of fact, LFG has not been as stable this year as it may seem from the outside. On the contrary, we’ve encountered more crises than in previous years.
LZY: The failure of some investments has even put us under the preying eyes of many industry peers.
LZY: But fortunately, I’m not alone in holding up LFG, and LFG is not an isolated island––
As he speaks, his gaze seems to subtly shift towards me behind the camera. In that brief second our eyes interlock, the corners of his lips curl upward into a small smile.
But when I focus and take a closer look again, it’s as if that fleeting smile was never there.
LZY: LFG was able to weather this year’s storms without any mishaps not only due to our decisions but also thanks to the countless colleagues who worked tirelessly day and night to recover the company’s losses, as well as to the support of our subsidiaries.
LZY: Especially the companies that LFG has invested in. Without them, LFG would’ve encountered even greater challenges this year.
Li Zeyan’s straight-from-the-shoulder remarks leave even the host a little taken aback, an expression of surprise settling on their face.
Host: It appears that even LFG, regarded as the lion king in the eyes of the others, has times when it rides the waves to advance.
LZY: That’s inevitable; no one walks a solitary path in this society.
LZY: Having your own plans and making decisive choices is important, but choosing the right people to move forward with is equally important.
I am slightly taken aback.
This was not in the script; it’s obviously an impromptu remark from Li Zeyan.
I’m not sure why, but these words suddenly make me think of those eyes gazing into mine in the bathroom last night.
The unnecessary persistences in my heart seem to quietly start to disintegrate. I tightly clench my fingers and pull my attention back to the show.
Host: We can tell that CEO Li is speaking from the heart. It seems that not only for the company but also for you, CEO Li, personally, do you have someone who can be considered as your exclusive “valued person”?
This time, I clearly see the smile in his eyes. I hold my breath slightly, waiting for the answer that I may have already known for a long time, yet can’t help eagerly anticipating––
LZY: [while looking at you] I do. It’s a well-spring that will never run dry, even in the desert. No matter what trouble may arise, I know without a doubt––
LZY: [while looking at you] She will be by my side forever.
—
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
—
【Chapter 4】
After the interview concludes, the filming crew and I head to the Central Grand Hotel.
To celebrate the completion of year-end work and the official wrap-up of the show, [MC’s Company Name] is holding a team-building celebration party here.
Perhaps because the end of the year is drawing closer, a festive atmosphere gradually begins to permeate, filling the banquet hall with laughter.
Being spurred on by this pure joy, I also end up having a few extra drinks.
I find myself feeling a little woozy, until, finally, Li Zeyan takes the wine glass from my hand and escorts me all the way to the lounge of the suite.
—
Inside the room’s bathroom, I turn on the faucet–– the cool water flows over my hand, washing away the slight tipsiness from the alcohol.
After the buzz from the alcohol has worn off a bit, I exhale and push open the bathroom door.
—
The lights in the room are not lit, and a familiar voice can be heard drifting from near the window. He seems to be on the phone with someone.
LZY: …got it. Email it to me.
The high heels under my feet tread on the soft carpet, barely producing any sound as I walk quietly to the floor-to-ceiling windows––
Outside the glass windows of the high-rise, thousands of lights spread out into the distance like a dazzling mosaic of stars.
Li Zeyan is lying on the carpet, the neon lights falling upon him in soft, colorful specks.
I sit down by the freestanding panoramic bathtub not far from him, watching as he hangs up the call.
MC: Was that about work?
LZY: Mm. I heard [MC’s Company Name] is looking for new partners for the Denmark project. I’ve asked the marketing department to draft a proposal. Once it’s finalized, I’ll send it over to you.
MC: But… weren’t you not very interested in this project before?
LZY: It’s true that the profit margins of this project are finite for LFG. However, if we approach it strategically, it could be a breakthrough in the Nordic market.
Seeing my somewhat baffled expression, he raises an eyebrow.
LZY: Since a certain someone has been dragging her feet, I have no choice but to take the initiative and propose it myself.
LZY: Or perhaps you already have other choices in mind?
MC: Of course not!
I don’t shy away from meeting those deep eyes of his squarely. My heart skips a beat, and I’m reminded of the question I’ve been holding back all afternoon.
MC: Before I give you my formal answer, I also have something I’d like to ask CEO Li––
MC: Shuangjian Media artists were found to have engaged in tax evasion. Helping [MC’s Company Name] vent some frustration this way… that was CEO Li’s doing, wasn’t it?
LZY: After all, a certain someone has been frowning and being glued to her phone even during meals for the past two weeks because of the troubles this company has stirred.
LZY: It’s best to take care of it early on, so it doesn’t take up more of your energy.
I’m momentarily stunned, and as I reflect on the recent events, a surge of emotions suddenly intertwines in my heart.
MC: So, CEO Li, what you are subtly reminding me is that I’ve been too occupied with work recently and have been neglecting you?
LZY: [you can’t hear me, but I’m screaming––] I simply want to have the share that’s rightfully mine.
His understated words convey a hint of tenderness that’s impossible to miss, and it sears into my heart, making the swaying toes of my feet pause mid-motion.
MC: Li Zeyan, thank you. Even though it may sound very formal, I still want to say thank you.
LZY: I wonder who was the person that said before that, you and I, we are one identity?
I’m slightly taken aback for a moment–– I did seem to have said those words not too long ago.
At the time, FengZhen Group was making moves against LFG, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be the one who could stand by his side.
–
[Tidbits]: It’s a call-back to Li Zeyan’s 2024 CNY UR: Burning Imprints~
–
MC: [teasingly] I believe I said “and LFG” at the time.
LZY: [confidently shrugs off LOL] Same thing.
LZY: Both LFG and I are enmeshed in many complicated relationships, and more and more branches and leaves are slowly growing outward.
LZY: So there’s no need to be so anxious. You’ve long been the sharpest blade capable of breaking the siege for LFG.
The lingering haze that has been weighing on my mind for the past half a month suddenly clears up. In its place, there arises a kind of sweet and surging fluttering sensation, and it’s overwhelming enough to fill my entire heart.
I did seem to be a little too anxious, so anxious that I overlooked the fact that I didn’t need to be in a hurry to rush forward. The unshakable position by his side will always belong to me and me alone.
I lower my eyes, my gaze tracing the contours of his outline obscured by the darkness.
MC: Li Zeyan… you will forever be my first choice.
–
As the words leave my lips, my ankle is suddenly clasped by a warm, dry palm.
Followed by a sigh that almost blends into the night, a twinge of pain shoots through my calf––
My eyes widen, watching as Li Zeyan’s lips meet my skin and nip me gently. He raises his eyes to interlock with mine, and I can see a hint of dissatisfaction swimming in their depths.
LZY: [GOSH THAT SULKY YET SEXY TONE] You’ve hesitated for too long.
Warm fingertips trace upward along my calf little by little, as if offering a kind of appeasement.
The worries haunting me every now and again, concealed in the darkest recesses of my heart, are set alight and burned to ashes.
MC: …I didn’t take that long.
LZY: Since I am your first choice, don’t hesitate.
His fiery breath snakes slowly up the inside of my knee, accompanied by comforting words tinged with a layer of inexplicable rosy hue, causing one to become addicted.
The soft touch rests gently agains the bend of my knee, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I chuckle softly and look at him with a semi-playful gaze.
MC: Um… Mr. “First Choice,” could you help me with something––
MC: Tell me, what can I do to make you happier?
Not waiting for me to finish my sentence, the pressure on my thigh increases slightly, and suddenly my body feels lighter.
The cry of exclamation hasn’t even left me before I find my entire person already wrapped in strong, solid arms.
LZY: You knowingly ask the question.
His deep eyes are so close to me, almost within reach. I can clearly see countless sparks surging beneath them, stirring up an ambiguous and inexplicable heat.
LZY: [chuckles softly] Also, while I said I would help you, it doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay the price.
LZY: After all, I don’t do business at a loss.
LZY: You still have time to think about… what you can give to pay me.
My heart is filled to the brim. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bury my face in the crook of his neck, and release a sigh of contentment.
The throbbing and undulations of his chest pound against my body again and again, and even the depths of my very soul seem to be trembling along with the motion––
Filling up my entire being.
──────────────────────────────────────────
#ermm... on second-thought the steamy is really 🔞🔞 so proceed at your own discretion ig LOL#THE GAME OF A MASTERMIND AKA TRUE GRANDMASTER 🛐#the way both Li Zeyan and his MC have the tendency - “cut me hurt me kill me do whatever. but lay a finger on my s/o and YOU'RE D E A D”😂#the anon who sent that yandere ask should read this date lmao. it takes no genius to know how firm on his ideals LZY is but—#these are some rare moments when you can see him GO— granted his actions are still grounded in “upholding justice” but it’s fun regardless🤭#the name call in the bathroom! my eternal weakness😭 LZY writers repeatedly hitting the theme how his name is a spell for you &viceversa#also !! the lion becoming a big sulky meow meow as usual 🥺 + THOSE SOFT MOMENTS IN THE LIVING ROOM AND DRESSING ROOM#i’m a visualizing reader and i cannot gush enough how much i love LZY's writers for being able to paint an entire picture with a few words❤#mlqc victor#mlqc li zeyan#mlqc#mr love victor#mr love queen's choice#恋与制作人#李泽言#love and producer#mlqc cn#mlqc spoilers#mlqc translations
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anyway I think the holographic implants should be permanent and from now on Tegan, Ace, and Yaz should, at the most emotionally needed or hilariously inconvenient moments, be haunted by their best friend and actually have a chance to talk with them.
#power of the doctor#power of the doctor spoilers#potd#potd spoilers#doctor who#and when i say talk in two of the cases i actually mean mourn#seven and ace play chess together (she moves the pieces for him) and he teaches her more of his twisted sneaky skills#yaz thinks she's being haunted.#tegan spents a week solidly ignoring him then when she's sitting down with a book and a cup of tea and he's sitting opposite she throws her#arms up and makes a cup of tea to sit at his elbow even though he can't drink it because he looks so sad.#i don't want it to be completely in their power bc then they could just do it at the meetings. but an inconvenient ghost that is their frien#d.#(none of them die alone. ten twenty fifty years in the future they have their doctor at their side. they can't hold their companions hand#but they'll be there to say goodbye as the companion goes off for their final unknown adventure.)#fcking fck i made myself cry#seven#ace#tegan#five#yaz#thirteen
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Levi x Drunk! Reader (oneshot)
Safe With You
Thanks for the request ❤️
Levi is sitting with Hanji and Mike in the mess hall, having some relaxing nighttime tea and chatting amongst themselves.
Hanji takes note of Levi’s sour mood as you decided to chaperone your gang of brats at the market instead of having your nightly tea routine with him.
“Where’s your little service dog?” Levi asks Hanji with a cross of his arms.
Hanji laughs. “Don’t call Moblit that! He’s sleeping. He’s had a long day.”
Mike snorts and takes a bite of his pastry. “A long day dealing with you.”
Levi smirks and gives Mike a nod of approval when Jean and Connie walk through the main door, arguing between themselves. The two young men freeze when they make eye contact with their squad leaders.
“Captain! You’re still awake!” Connie blurts out, rubbing the back of his head nervously.
Levi’s face stays deadpanned. “Am I not supposed to be?”
Jean chuckles through clenched teeth, “No it’s just that-“
Before he can finish, Mikasa walks passed them with you thrown across her shoulder.
Hanji immediately stands up as she sees her best friend unmoving. “What happened?!”
Armin and Eren walk behind Mikasa to help her lower you on the bench, letting you lay your head on the table.
Mike scowls as he takes in a big whiff of the air near you. “Definitely drunk.”
“Why the hell is she drunk?” Levi glares as he shakes your shoulder to get you to wake up.
Sasha gags. “I wouldn’t do that. She already threw up on me…twice.”
Armin decides to be the one to speak up and give their captain the story. “Well, a vendor was selling wine and offered for her to taste some. One turned into two, two turned into three…and so on…”
Levi grabs his cravat from around his neck to clean the drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. “And none of you decided to stop her?”
“Y/N never takes a break and it looked like she was enjoying it. Besides, we don’t drink, so we didn’t know wine can do this.” Eren tries to defend him and his friends even though he knows punishment will come anyway.
Mike stifles back a laugh. “Don’t be too hard on them, Captain. Y/N’s always been a lightweight.”
Hanji shrugs in agreement. “Yeah, that part is true. I haven’t seen her this drunk in a really long time though.”
Everyone stops talking when they hear you muttering in your unconscious state.
Mikasa tucks some strands of your hair behind your ear and rubs your back. “Y/N, are you ok?”
“Levi…I want Levi…”
Levi sighs and sits next to you on the bench. “I’m right here. Do you feel sick?”
You nod in discomfort and Hanji gets up to grab you some water.
“Try sitting her up. Her head laying down is probably making her dizzy.” Mike suggests.
Jean and Connie help you sit up and Levi leans you against his side. “You brat, why would you drink like that for?”
Hanji comes back with water and you open your eyes enough to grab the glass shakily, but Levi notices some bruising forming on your knuckles.
“What happened to her hands?” He asks as he helps you drink the water.
Jean cringes as he looks at Connie for help, but Connie shakes his head. “Well…” Jean starts, “The wine vendor was starting to get handsy with Y/N, and I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, but she laid a heavy punch to his face.”
“Ha! Didn’t know she had it in her.” Mike laughs but is silenced by Hanji’s elbow digging into his side as she sees anger spread across Levi’s face.
Armin steps forward quickly. “Don’t worry! Nile was actually nearby and saw it happen. He said he will take care of the vendor. Y/N’s not in trouble!”
“That guy…he was…GROSS…” Your speech slurs and you choke as you down more water. “He’s-….he’s lucky Levi wasn’t there! That wo-“ You hiccup, “Would have been…BAD!”
Hanji tries not to laugh, but she wishes there were a way to capture this moment.
Levi raises a brow. “Oh, it would be?”
You let out a hiccuped laugh. “Yeah! He-Levi…he always protects me…” More water spurts from your mouth as you have a hard time drinking from the cup. “That’s why …I-I…like him so much. We should- get…married!”
Everyone’s mouth drops and Mike can’t help but let out a whistle. “Ah, drunken truths.”
Mike is loving this.
Levi side eyes him as he wipes off your mouth. You smile and fall forward into his chest. “I’m tired…”
Levi pats your back. “Did you want to go to bed?”
You shake your head and wrap your arms around his torso. Suddenly, soft snores are faintly heard.
“Well…at least she can sleep it off at least a little for right now.” Hanji says as she smiles at the sight.
“At least she feels comfortable with you, Captain. She didn’t want any of us to grab her.” Sasha said. “When I tried, she just released the contents of her stomach onto me.”
“I’m shocked you didn’t eat it.” Connie sticks his tongue out at her, but she whacks him in the head.
The crew takes this time to grab some trays of left over dinner and sit at the adjacent table to eat. Levi is holding you close and rubbing your back as you snore softly into his shirt.
You stir awake after twenty minutes, head still foggy but conscious enough to start becoming familiar with your surroundings.
You slowly sit up, and when your eyes focus, you see everyone watching you.
“Hey, girly! You alright now?” Hanji smiles.
You grimace and look to your side and see Levi. You are exhausted and your head is starting to pound, so you slide into his lap and burry your face into his neck.
“Did I say you can get into my space, brat?” He whispers in your ear.
You shake your head no. You didn’t care who was watching, Levi looked mighty comfortable to lay on.
He sighs. “How about I take you to bed?”
“Nooo!” You whimper. “I want to stay with you!”
“Ok, I’ll stay but you are going to lay in bed.” Levi hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up.
He gives all the brats a “thank you” for watching over you, and then carries you to his room.
When he gets there, he lays you on his bed and starts taking off your shoes.
“Levviiii…stay here!” You groan out.
He clicks his tongue and rubs your hand. “Why do you want me to stay so bad?”
You burry your face deeper into the pillow. “Safe.” Is all you mutter before passing out again.
Levi frowns as he looks at your bruised knuckles. You were right when you said he would kill that vendor for touching you, and you were right in saying he would keep you safe.
He smiles gently and crawls in bed behind you, pulling you close to his chest as he spoons you from behind.
“You reek.” He says as he buries his face into the back of your neck.
#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi attack on titan#attack on titan#levi aot#shingeki no kyojin
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Requests open! Yay! I'd like to request a oneshot with Hantengu: reader, a human, ends up somehow protecting/saving the scared little guy (from the sun, perhaps?) and he is now Attached and kinda crushing, living in their house, and tries to make a move but is just way too scared. So he does what any good demon would do: gets bashful and rips his head off so his clones can make a move for him. Surprise now there's four guys with a Big Crush and they're not quite so cute about it anymore (not that reader complains). Hope this request finds you well and thanks for being super rad! ❤️
All For You [Hantengu X Reader]
Reader is Human Female | Romance | Part 2 HERE Final HERE
Recomended Song - Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking
In such a terrifying battle, he hadn't realised that despite killing the hashira, they had stranded him in a field with no shade and the sun was just moments away. He could run, but he didn't have much power remaining, so all he could do was try.
Even as he cried and wailed, he could hear what he could only assume was another member of the corps catching up to him, taking advantage of how little he had left in him.
If he needed to, he could surely muster just one more strike-
He could feel a burning heat on his back, causing a squeal, before it all stopped, and two arms fell in front of him, which he ran into and fell back into the grass.
Whimpering, the upper-rank shielded his face, waiting for some kind of attack, only to hear the rigorous panting of the being that had caught him.
Shakily, his hands moved from his face, gazing up to see that someone was on their elbows and knees, shielding him from the sun.
"Aren't you supposed to be hidden from the sun?" A head dipped down, looking curiously at the small being. You were just going for a stroll since you hadn't been able to sleep, and after hearing a loud commotion all you found was a weak, stranded demon.
The being shakily waited to see your movements, taking the chance to replenish itself. Hantengu had nowhere to run, unless he wanted to try digging.
"Well, I'm sure we can work this out." When your hand reached to him, he crouched and moved his hands to protect his head, which didn't stop you from hiding him in the thick cloth of your woollen cloak, which you had used to protect yourself from the cold spring air.
What was this human thinking? Hantengu pondered the implications, though realised if you were so certain about taking him in, he could always kill you when you got to shelter and he would be free once more. Besides, doing so now would be a waste with the sun around, and since the fabric surrounding him was so soft, warm, and smelt so, so enticing.
With the distraction hidden in your coat and your rushed jog back to your hidden home beyond the forest line and up a hill, you never looked back to catch a glimpse at the body left behind.
Before daring to remove him, you had shut all your blinds so little to no light peaked in, and turned on the light in your home yourself.
When he finally crawled out of your cloak of his own accord, which you had laid on the table and waited for him, his eyes scattered and landed on objects he deemed of importance.
One, a nichirin blade hung on the wall.
Two, a demon slayer corps uniform hanging beside your other garments on a rack.
And three, a portrait of a blue spider lily, one he recognized from one of Muzan's books.
Clearly, you were no normal human, you were a part of the corps. So then why weren't you dressed up and killing him? Perhaps you were going to try to reason with him, like many idiots had tried.
"Ah, you're finally awake."
Of course, he also noticed you sitting in a chair leant up against a wall, just a gust of wind away from it slipping and you falling. But you remained balanced for now.
"You don't have to worry, I won't harm you. I'm just trying to figure out why you haven't harmed me, is all!" In your hands was a cup of tea, which, when you sipped, left a line of green matcha on your lips. It disappeared when you took yet another sip, and set the cup down beside him.
"To be honest, chasing after you really exhausted me, so I think I better head to bed now. You can leave if you'd like should you find a way, but feel free to stay as long as you like."
With that, you left the cowering demon in the nest of a cloak, closing the sliding door to the other half of the cabin where your futon was. Hantengu watched as the lights in the room went out.
You awake early in the afternoon, having achieved a quarter of a day's rest.
Unfortunately serenity was not in the picture, for the moment you opened the sliding door you nearly fell back on your ass upon seeing a fully grown man sitting on one of two cushions by the low table, his hands neatly folded in his lap.
He looked to be asleep sitting, but you knew from experience that it was less akin to sleep, and more of a hibernation tactic demons had during the day.
Only now did a shiver run sharp down your spine, the intense energy surrounding the being only now just hitting you. You must have been so exhausted yesterday that none of it registered.
Limping towards your food prepping station, you picked up a wooden bucket, getting ready to retrieve water for your breakfast. Your leg was acting up again, perhaps you shouldn't have overexerted yourself hours prior.
Once you made movement towards the door, the being sat up semi-straight, red eyes glowing similar to the lanterns scattering the room. He looked to be moving away from you, but stopped when he analysed you as familiar.
You, on the other hand, nearly dropped the bucket upon reading the kanji in his eyes.
When he was small last night, you hadn't noticed. I mean, you were also tired and, god, what have you gotten yourself into?
Not even a low rank, he was upper rank four, god, your heart quickened to a point where you knew he'd notice. Sure, you were a member of the corps, but you'd been on leave for months now since you almost lost your leg, and you were still recovering!
Not only that, but you could count the number of demons you'd killed on one hand, being only a Mizunoe.
Despite these facts, he seemed to be more afraid of you than you had been of him, and you were never that good at hating demons, so you just meekly pointed to the pail.
"I'm going to fetch some water, but I'll be back soon."
Closing the door behind you, your hand met with the cloth over your heart, gripping it as if your life depended on it, trying to slow your heart rate and push forwards.
'What the fuck, what the hell do I even do?' With every heavy step, a lighter one followed as you tried not to put too much pressure on it, approaching the water pump and putting your bucket under it.
Sucking in a breath, you grabbed onto the lever and pushed down, letting it slowly inch up before repeating the process, letting the sputtering first gushes of muddy water spray out until a steady stream formed, which you kicked the bucket under to collect.
Your crow wouldn't be back for a week since it was retrieving medicine, if you could stall and keep him trapped here then maybe your crow could eventually get help! But you'd have to make it for, at the very least, a week.
Removing your calloused hands from the pump handle, you picked up the bucket with far more care than before, assuring yourself you wouldn't spill.
You'd just have to do it, because there was no fighting in your condition, and if he was that much of a threat he surely would have lunged at you while you slept, right?
"So, what's your name?" Your hearth had a burning fire below it, water boiling away as you added sugar and rice, covering it entirely and setting the pot aside so it could cook. The entire time, his eyes had been trained on you, flinching at every loud sound such as a ladle hitting the cast iron of your pot.
"M...me?" His voice broke as he spoke, though when you nodded he cleared it, "Hantengu."
"Han-teng-ou...!" You played the syllables out, as if testing how the name would taste, before pointing to yourself.
"Well, I'm y/n, but you can call me anything you want really. I have a feeling you won't be leaving anytime soon, so try to keep it non demeaning." You joked, though he seemed to take it seriously, nodding vigorously.
When your rice pudding was complete, you scooped a ball of it into a separate spoon, offering it to the demon. You knew they didn't eat human food often, but you figured you should act as clueless as you could.
Much to your surprise, Hantengu ate it, though you could tell he didn't like it by how harshly he swallowed. You giggled, taking the kindness of the demon into consideration, he must have done it not to hurt your feelings, which was relatively cute!
Even as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hantengu never left, instead enjoying your company, and as nights came and went, you found that every morning he'd be there, already preparing the hearth or with water ready for you. You'd become so used to the schedule, you never noticed that your crow hadn't returned, only interested in getting along with the demon.
On one summer evening, as the leaves had fully grown on the trees and the summer heat began to settle in, you'd been cleaning up the home while Hantengu came back in with firewood, stretching his legs now that the sun had gone down.
All the windows were wide, allowing any breeze in to help with the head, and you fanned yourself off with your hand.
"I'm really glad I picked you up, I never realised how lonely it was out here." You spoke up the moment he entered as if it had been on your mind for some time.
Hantengu always listened closely, having long forgotten his plan of ever so much as laying a scratch on you. You'd been nothing but kind to him, and had always treated him better than anyone he had met in his life. It would suffice to say the demon adored you, but he would never say it.
Your words stunned him entirely, which made him gaze down at the floor, hiding the expression of endearment on his face.
"I built this place far from any villages with the help of a few other corps members, but after that I never saw them again. I just didn't want to be anywhere demons would be, because if I was home I wanted to feel safe. But it's pure solitude. You've made it so much better."
Your head had begun to droop, moments from leaning on his shoulder, before the demon squealed and tumbled to the other side of the room, panting. You had become fully alert now, holding your hands out in a panic.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you--!"
Despite your apologies, the being shook, seemingly muttering to himself with both hands clawing at his heads, before in one swift motion he tore his head from his body, blood splashing along the walls and quickly disintegrating.
Mouth agape, you stared in horror as a transformation began, carefully inching towards the blade on your wall. The head rolled on the floor, before regenerating a new body that resembled a much younger demon, entirely shirtless. He caught himself easily, and sprung up on his feet in mere seconds.
The body, on the other hand, changed heavily in appearance until a head popped from the torso, similar red eyes glowing, though they were a more saturated cherry red compared to the Hantengu you knew.
"Ahah! Finally~ A vessel of my own..." Snapping your head back to the other, he was now crouched down, green eyes staring at you with a shimmer of interest.
Despite this, the other one walked behind his duplicate, barely giving you enough time to react to the fact that your companion was entirely renewed, and tore his head off once more, much to the dissatisfaction of the green eyed being, which the green eyed one reacted by ripping the others arm off.
They replenished themselves in seconds, though the two loose limbs quickly multiplied once more, introducing a sulking blue eyed demon, and what looked like a man-bird-thing.
"It never gets any easier..." A soft voice came from the blue eyed individual, of which you caught a kanji on his tongue which read 'sorrow'.
Shivering in the corner, the four seemed to bicker with each other for what you wished was much longer, before their full attention was on your cowering form in the corner.
Oh, how ironic it was, you and Hantengu had entirely switched places, if you could call these beings such a title.
You just hoped they liked you as much as he had.
"Don't you have better things to do than stare?" The red-eyed one hissed, though with malice or anticipation you couldn't entirely pick out. Despite his near-hostility, the showy one crawled forwards, reaching out a clawed hand to hold your chin, pushing it up to meet his eyes.
'Uppermoon Four' It was the same as Hantengu, but they acted so differently, or perhaps to his extremes?
While you were lost in your thoughts, the demon hissed a laugh, enjoying the empty look beyond your curious eyes that scanned him over.
"Before you call me anything I'm not, how about we start with Karaku, unless you prefer 'man of your dreams' better?" The tips of his nails pushed into your skin, but not nearly close enough to damage you. Oh no, he wouldn't dare do such a thing to his doll.
Karaku was promptly pulled back by the claws of a bird foot, which led to the tumbling forward of a very, very strange being, whose wings quickly blocked your view of all others and forced your eyes to gaze into his yellow ones, though he only grinned.
"Look what you've done, making big bad demons go falling for your stupidity, you're lucky you're so damned pretty!" Once he got his word in, he backed off as the other called him by his name strictly, allowing the two remainders to stand before you, gazing down.
You caught the name Urogi, and hoped you caught right, being hoisted to your feet by the hands of a very rough being, the one most similar to Hantengu, though the blue-eyed one placed his hand on your back, keeping you from moving back and providing little comfort.
"You poor thing, you must have no idea what’s going on..." Pity seeped from the sorrow demon, though he muttered his name to you shortly after.
'Aizetsu.' You repeat to yourself mentally, almost leaning into his hand, which moved slowly up and down as if he was giving a futile attempt at comforting you. The one holding your wrist in a vice-like grip only grumbled, seemingly irritated at nothing.
"Sekido."
"S...sekido...?" He only huffed in annoyance at your confirmation, as if it was stupid that you'd even thought of his name in the first place. You hadn't noticed how badly you were shaking until the tremors of the table met your ears, and your heart was skipping beats left and right.
"I- I don't," your voice paused, daring to reach forward, cupping Sekido's cheek, "aren't you?"
The loss of words seemed to amuse Karaku and Urogi, who erupted in giggles and grinned respectively. You were adorable, all your confidence sapped as if anything had changed.
"Yes, and no~" Urogi piped up, tilting his head to get a better look at you from where he was sitting, since Sekido's arm was in the way.
As Sekido dragged you back to your room, you watched Aizetsu carefully close your front door and lock it, each pair of eyes staring at you from the darkness of your living room, shining with light.
Looks like you'd have to make room for four more.
Author Note - Okay this is the longest oneshot I have every written on here, and I couldn't even fully finish it!! So kind of a cliff hanger but I got to every point so win! I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting! This req inspired me sm <3
Shoutout to @mister-gooday1 who actually beta reads all of my oneshots I post because I would die if I had to do it myself xoxo
Word Count - 2,669
Art Credit - Hira_Daphne (twitter)
#hantengu#hantengu x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer oneshots#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kny x reader#kny#kny oneshots#oneshot#x reader#reader insert
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“Drying Their Hair„
Characters: Albert James Moriarty, William James Moriarty, Louis James Moriarty.
Tags: Short fluff, Established relationships, Wet hair, Reader dries hair of their S/O, Married couples.
Format: Story Writing.
William J. Moriarty
You watch as the bathroom door opens and your husband walks out, water dripping from his body - only a towel wrapped around his waist as he runs a hand through his blond hair. Orange hues of sunlight cascade onto the skin of his fairly toned ab muscles from the windows.
“Darling—” He begins. “Not now, I'm busy.” You murmur, eyeing him up and down. Truly, you were busy, because when else would you find the time to appreciate that body when he was already so busy with his job as a professor & a crime consultant?
“My dear, if you have time to gawk at me like that then I can surely assume you have enough time to dry my hair?” He raises an eyebrow, passing you a towel that you swear wasn't in either of his hands just seconds ago.
“Where did that come from?” You ask, sitting up in bed as you look down at the towel that he passed to you.
“The gall to speak back to you or the towel?” He smirks.
“Both.” You say, grinning at his witty words as you watch him drag a stool infront of your bed and place himself down on it, facing you. He leans down a little so you can easily dry his hair without having to strain upwards to match his height. You scooch up closer to the edge of the bed and place the towel on his soft blond hair.
“Who knows?” He sighs, satisfied as you begin to dry his hair with the towel - making sure to be gentle in your movements. He leans further against you, face resting into your chest as you continue to pat his hair down with the towel.
“William?” You whisper, feeling his arms wrap around your waist lazily as you continue to dry his hair.
“...Hm?” He hums, head drooping and eyelids growing heavy.
“Are you going to fall asleep? You haven't even gotten dressed. You'll catch a cold.”
“Mmm..” He hums again. You're not sure if that meant he would stay awake or fall asleep. But when you hear his breath grow slower and his grip around your waist loosen, you begin to think that it was the latter.
Albert J. Moriarty
He's just returned from being dispatched by the government for an entirety of four days to take down a national-threat level criminal. It's safe to say that when he came back, he's acting very clingy towards you.
He'd saunter in through the door, arms wrapped around you and burying your face into the crook of your neck, as you're preparing yourself a cup of tea.
“You smell so good. So warm. So much like home.” He murmurs softly, breathing in your comforting scent.
“And you reek of sweat. Go take a shower.” You tell him, nudging him away with your elbow. He groans, detaching himself away from you as he sulks away to the bathroom.
When he returns, he practically drags you to the vanity mirror hands you a towel and sits himself down on a chair infront of it.
“What?” You ask. “My hair, love. Won't you dry it for me?” He looks at you with his handsome features, smirking. He reaches up his pointer finger to poke at your cheek.
You melt, feeling yourself redden slightly and hide it away with a scoff as you begin to dry his hair. He relaxes in your touch, facing the mirror as your hands work expertly.
“I don't understand why you felt the need to have me dry your hair infront of a mirror, though. Perhaps you've been told that your spouse was actually a vampire and you felt the need to confirm it yourself?”
You question, focused entirely on drying off his hair with the towel when he laughs softly. It's a nice sound - his laughter. So warm, so beautiful. So, so full of love for you.
“No. That's not it.” he says, smiling to himself as he looks at the two of you in the mirror. You notice his gaze focused on your face. “I've been away for days, sweet love.”
“Your point?”
“My point, (Name), is that having a mirror infront of us allows me to steal glances at you and have you touch me at the same time. Something I couldn't do without hindering your efforts had I been looking up to face you instead.”
Louis J. Moriarty
You would have to be the one offering to dry this sweet man's hair. I presume he'd be too embarrassed to tell you to do it for him, especially if the two of you have recently gotten married. Especially pre-timeskip.
“Louis, let me do it for you.” You offer, grabbing a towel and then walking over to him.
“Ah, no. It's alright, (Name). I possibly couldn't—” He attempts to refute and you shush him with a kiss to the lips. He flushes red immediately, staggering back and grabbing onto a nearby chair to prevent his knees from giving out.
You push him down onto that very chair, lips still locked onto his for a few moments before you pull away, smiling smugly down at him. He looks up at you with a somewhat dazed and somewhat surprised expression, slightly out of breath. His eyes falls to your lips momentarily before he rips his gaze away, clearing his throat.
You're stifling a laughter making it's way upward your throat when he pulls you down onto his lap, making you face him. You gasp softly, surprised at the sudden action.
He's not one to talk much and would most likely be nuzzling against you as you as you begin to dry his hair.
“How bold.” You tease, grinning widely.
“No. Only comfortable.” He blabbers against your shoulder, sighing in pleasure when he feels you rub his hair with the towel to dry it.
#william james moriarty#william james moriarty x reader#william james moriarty x y/n#william james moriarty x you#x reader#yuukoku no moriarty#moriarty the patriot#james moriarty#yuumori#albert james moriarty x y/n#albert james moriarty x you#albert james moriarty x reader#albert james moriarty#louis james moriarty x you#louis james moriarty x y/n#louis james moriarty x reader#soft fluff#fluff#headcannons
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Breaking Dishes. - OC
pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price
words: 2.7K~
cw: smut, arguments, violence, fighting/roughousing, breaking dishes, insults, toxic relationship.
It’s 8:12 A.M. when Kathleen finds herself sliding off bed and wrapping herself in a flowery black and pink silk robe. John’s side of the bed is cold, a sign he’s gotten up long ago.
She pads over to their en-suite bathroom and quickly washes her face, brushes her teeth and her hair, before she leaves the bedroom in search of her husband.
As she enters the kitchen, she finds her temper already rising, her jaw clenching as she looks around, finding multiple reasons to get angry already, so early in the morning, so early in a weekend morning.
First, she finds that he’s made breakfast already. Not for them, just for himself. Nothing for her. Selfish bastard.
Second, he made himself a full English too. Having left the rest of the eggs and sausages out of the fridge. The milk too even though he KNOWS she hates when he does that.
Third, he’s left a mess of pans and utensils on the kitchen stove… Which means she can’t even cook herself breakfast if she wanted to.
Fourth, the water kettle is not full enough for her to make herself a cuppa. In fact, the water in it is already lukewarm, even if there was enough to make herself one, she still couldn’t.
And fifth, John is sitting outside in the balcony, getting some sun, while only wearing a pair of jeans, showing off his strong torso and bulging arms to the whole neighborhood. Like a bloody tart.
Oh… Kathleen. is. pissed.
“JONATHAN. WILLIAM. PRICE!” She calls out at the top of her lungs as she whips the sliding glass door open and coming face to face with the man of the hour.
“Morning, Kat.” John greets her, completely calm and collected as he looks up at her, leaning his elbow lazily on the table next to him, which holds his empty breakfast plate and cutlery.
He’s lounging without a care in the world, a grey wool sweater across his lap, and a mug of tea in his hand.
“Morning my arse! Did’ya see the mess you left in the kitchen?!” She asks him pointedly, brown eyes wide as she glares pure daggers at him.
Unfortunately for her, her raising her voice and her stern glares do little to him now, four years into their relationship, one into their marriage. He’s gotten used to them.
“Calm your tits, woman, I’m going to clean it after I’m done here.” He replies nonchalantly as he gestures vaguely. “Can’t I have a moment’s peace?”
“Oh, you want a moment’s peace, do ya?” She asks him as she crosses her arms over her chest, dipping her head to the side. “When do I get a moment’s peace, hm? When do I get a bloody weekend when I wake up and there’s not a mess to clean or with my breakfast made for me?” She asks with a cocked brow.
John shifts around in “I let you sleep in. Didn’t make any noise. You chose to get up right now. Could've stayed asleep and you would've woken up to clean dishes.” He remaked with a shrug.
“Ex-cuse me?” Kathleen asked pointedly as she stared at him.
“You heard me. You’re getting an attitude for no reason, da’ling.” John remarked as he finished gulping down his tea.
Kathleen wanted to yell at him some more. She really wanted to. The man drove her insane, especially when he was like this… Correct.
“Don’t you gaslight me, Jonathan. I have a right to want to wake up to a clean house and some food made for me!” She retorted, grasping at straws for something to justify her anger.
“And this is after you complained I never make breakfast the way you like it?” He retorted as he looked her up and down before standing up, gathering his plate, cutlery and empty cup of tea.
“You-!” She sputtered a bit as she looked up at her husband, who gently moved her aside so he could slip past her back inside the house. “I- You-!” She continued as she followed after him.
”Face it, Kat, you have no leg to stand on, da’lin’.” John remarked as he entered the kitchen.
“Don’t you bloody walk away from me!” She raised her voice and suddenly shoved him from behind. It caused his empty cup of tea to roll of its perch atop the dirty plate he was carrying and shatter into a million pieces on the hardwood floor.
John stopped in his tracks as soon as the cup fell, so as to not step on the shards and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Was that fuckin’ necessary, da’lin’?”
“Yes.” Kathleen replied with a bite to her tone as she stared up into his eyes, holding her ground even as he turned and stood over her.
“Really? What’d I do to deserve that push, hm?” He asked her as he dipped his head to the side, blue eyes trailing over the form of his wife beneath him, wrapped in a silken robe that wrapped beautifully around her full figure.
Meanwhile, Kathleen’s brown eyes were glued to her husband’s figure too, trailing over the strong neck, broad shoulders, muscular pecs, soft stomach, and the abundant hair that covered it.
“You- You were sitting outside like a bloody tart, showin’ off for the bloody neighbors!” She suddenly said as her eyes shot up to look at him, having found something to grasp on to yell at him some more.
John’s eyebrows raised, his lips morphed into a smirk and he gave her a mocking look, his nose scrunching up a bit. “Is that what this is, da’lin’? You’re jealous?” He asked her condescendingly.
“Oh piss off, John, I’m not jealous!” She retorted pointedly as she glared at him.
“Right…” John asked as he took a step over her. “Then why are you complaining about me being shirtless, then?” He teased her as one of his hands moved to grasp her around the chin, squeezing her face lightly.
“I-” Kathleen tried to defend herself, having already realized that today just wasn’t one of her days when it came to having a sharp tongue. So she did what she could, ever competitive she was, wasn’t going to take the disrespect lying down.
Grabbing his forearm, she ripped his hand off her face, then, took the plate off his other hand, and threw it across the living room blindly, hearing it shatter somewhere, probably against the bookshelf by the TV.
“Fuck. You. John Price. I’m sick and tired of your bloody attitude.” She pointed a finger in his face and then poked him on the chest. “You think you can walk around here as you wish, as if you’re in bloody charge? I think the fuck not!” She scolded him.
John didn’t even flinch at her poking him, or the plate being hurled across the room. He was used to this. Used to her. Hell, it turned him on when Kathleen was being a cunt to him.
John reached forward and grabbed her by her right forearm, pulling her against him. “Yeah? Then who’s in charge, da’lin’?” He challenged as he looked down his nose at her.
“It sure as hell isn’t you!” She retorted, her voice, much like her hackles, raised, even if she didn’t try, at all, to pull away from him. She wasn’t afraid of John. Never had been, never would be.
“Let’s see about that then.” John told her as he pulled her over to the living couch, spun her away from him and bent her over the armchair.
Kathleen squeaked softly, knowing well what was coming, as John pinned her wrists behind her back with one hand, the other rolling up her robe to expose her thighs and her ass.
“Who’s in charge, hm?” John goaded her before he whipped his hand back and delivered a hard smack to one of her round ass cheeks, causing it to ripple, a moan falling from her parted lips.
“Not. You.” She replied, huffing a moan again when he delivered a second smack to her ass. “Fuck. You. John.” She grunted through her teeth.
“What’d you say, da’lin’?” John asked as he leaned close to her ear. “Did you just tell me to go fuck myself?” He teased, watching as she fruitlessly writhed over the armrest, her head buried down in the couch cushion, her hands and arms struggling in his grip.
She rolled her head to the side so she could catch him through the corner of her eye. “Yes, I fucking did. And I’ll say it again. Fuck you, John.” She spat at him.
“Tsk-tsk. Brat.” John mused with a smirk on his lips. She could hear it. Then he smacked her again, and again, always making sure to strike the same spot, her skin already redening and blushing as the skin warmed up and the blood vessels popped below it.
John only gave her a break once the dulcets of her voice had softened and her moans had become whimpers, her arms and hands having gone limp in his grasp. “Who’s in charge, Kat?” He checked as he looked at her with a satisfied smirk on his lips.
Kathleen’s brown eyes caught his, her face just as red as her ass, her eyes widened, pupils blown from lust. “Fuck. You.” She gritted through her teeth.
“Oh, that wasn’t enough was it, sweet’art?” He goaded again. “Very well.” He added. John’s hand grabbed hold of the waist band of her panties and pulled them down swiftly, noting the wet spot she had already left in them.
“Someone’s enjoying being spanked huh, you brat? Someone likes having an attitude adjustment…” He goaded as he let go of her panties, letting them fall around her ankles.
Before Kathleen could even retort properly, John’s rough and calloused fingers delivered a slap to her puffy cunt, causing her to squirm and squeal, her legs straightening up and trembling.
“John!” She cried out as he continued repeatedly slapping her pussy, causing her to squirm and writhe against the hard material of the armrest below her.
“That’s it, call my name, da’lin’.” He goaded as he kept repeatedly and continuously smacking her warm, wet folds. “Who’s in charge, here, huh?”
“F-Fuck… You!” She spat at him, as she finally freed her arms from John’s weakened grip. Then, she threw an elbow back, hitting her husband squarely in the nose.
“Ah, you cunt!” John complained as he suddenly stumbled back back, one hand shooting up to cup his now bleeding nose, while Kathleen suddenly rolled off her perch on the couch.
“No, you’re the cunt!” She retorted before suddenly lunging herself at him, throwing her whole weight on top of John, who, not expecting it, landed on the floor with a hard thud.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat!” John replied as he tried to get a grab at his wife, instead, only getting her trying to grip him by the arms and pin him to the floor.
She struggled with it, of course, she might have some military training, but not nearly enough to fight him, and definitely not enough strength to fight him.
His forearms bulged under her hands, the rough skin prickling with goosebumps, the adrenaline flowing through his veins, as well as hers, the both of them desperate to fight the other.
John bucked his hips and rolled them over before she could even attempt a proper pin down, landing her on the floor with a thud and a huff from her lungs.
He grabbed her by the hair with one hand, the other gripping her wrists together and pining her to the floor instead.
Kathleen wrapped her legs around his hip and attempted to roll them over again, unsuccessfully, so, instead, she did the only thing she could do. She leaned up and spat in John’s face.
John’s eyes closed for a moment and his jaw clenched before they opened again, looking even more angry and… horny than before. “Is that how it’s going to be, Kathleen?” He asked her as he let go of her hair and used his hand to collect the spit off his skin.
“Yeah, it is-” She barely had time to continue before he was plugging her mouth with his fingers, causing her to swallow them and her own saliva back up, pressing down on his tongue, preventing her from continuing her tirade.
“Keep your smart-ass gob shut, sweetheart, or you won't have a fuckin' jaw to move when I'm done wit ya.” He told her, eyes locked on hers. Kathleen looked up at him, eyes widened, pupils blown, before she wrapped her lips around his fingers, beginning to give him a suck.
“That’s it…” He told her. “You look so much better with your mouth shut…” He goaded her with a smirk on his lips. Kathleen’s eyes sparkled with mischief at his comment, a clear sign that she felt challenged by his condescending tone… So, she bit down onto his fingers as hard as he could.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat…” John hissed as he pushed his fingers deeper in her mouth like one would a dog, causing her to sputter and choke, and forcing her to let go of them, allowing him to pull them back out.
“C’mere.” He demanded and grabbed her jaw with tight fingers, forcing her mouth to open, before he swished his tongue inside his own mouth to collect some saliva, before spitting it into her mouth. “Swallow.” He demanded and, for once, she obeyed. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
Kathleen then squeaked in surprise as he pulled open her robe, leaving it splayed open on the hardwood floor before he grabbed one of her legs, pushing it up against her chest while he sat over the other one.
“We need to adjust that fuckin’ attitude of yours. It’s way too bloody early for you to be fightin’ me, you hear?!” He taunted her as he undid the fly in his jeans and shimmied both his the trousers and boxer briefs down, allowing him to pull out his hardened cock.
“Fuck you, John.” She retorted as she squirmed a bit beneath him, trying to drag herself away with the help of her elbows.
“That’s what I’m about to do to you, sweetheart.” He taunted her before he quickly grabbed hold of her again, using one hand to push her down against the floor, one hand wrapped around her jaw and neck, while the other wrapped around his cock and used it to brush his leaky tip against her folds.
“John-” Kathleen grumbled as she wrapped her own hands around his hairy forearm, nails digging into his flexed muscle, dragging drown his skin.
“Sh-Shhh…” He murmured before he drove his cock deep into her cunt, causing her to huff and moan, her head falling back as he plunged as far as he could.
“That’s my girl…” He teased her. He shifted around and lifted her other leg too, pushing it forward against her chest, allowing him to sink in deeper, before he started thrusting his hips down into her.
Her warm walls spread open to accommodate him, his cock making way inside fully with each snap of his hips. “That’s it… That’s what you needed, isn’t it?” He goaded her with a smirk. Unluckily for her, Kathleen could do little more than nod in agreement.
“Tell me you love me, da’lin’...” John cooed at his wife as he pounded deep into her, reaching that spot in her walls that only John had ever been able to reach.
“I love y-oooh…” Kathleen murmured, being cut off by a sudden shift in his demeanor, a more aggressive, ruthless rhythm coming into place, his hips snapping punishingly against hers, his cock bottoming out in her.
“That’s it, Kat, tell me you love me… Tell me you love me…” He repeated over and over. “Tell me you love me and my cock inside you, da’lin’... Tell me…”
“I love you, John…” Kathleen whined, her head rolling back on the hard floor, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh spot between his shoulder blades, her nails just barely grazing the tattoo on his nape.
“You’re such a fuckin’ cunt, Kat… Such a fuckin’ cunt… But I love you so much…” John murmured before he pressed his lips into hers in a sloppy, wet kiss.
#ikea writes 💚#cod x reader#cod fanfic#masterlist#call of duty#cod fandom#cod smut#smut#john price smut#price smut#captain price smut#cod oc#oc: kathleen “brass” price#price x kathleen
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Hii, could you do an Anthony lockwood x reader where they just have a nice chill day. They are together and have nothing to do so they just stay in bed all day sharing Stolen kisses, words of affirmation, cuddling, talking, bed hair, morning voice, makeout?
y'all don't understand this is so different from what i write on ao3 for my other fandom, i am an angst machine there, all of these fluff requests are terrifying bc idk how to write fluff 😭(/lh dw i still love writing them)
as long as you're next to me(just the two of us)- anthony lockwood x reader
(@citizen-01, @gibby31)
a/n: hope i could do justice to what u wanted!! was just listening to beabadoobee when writing this lmao
warnings: none??? unedited, kissing ig, idk cursing?? ooc
Waking up in the morning wasn’t something you enjoyed all that often, the prospect of another day not that appealing when the Problem was still a prominent…problem issue. You’d never grow tired of waking up to the sight of Lockwood next to you though, limbs shot out in all directions-and yet always with an arm over you. Sometimes he’d have a little frown on his face when he was very deeply asleep that made you coo and smile so widely it hurt your cheeks. To be fair, who could blame you?
Waking up this morning was no different from most for you, a flash of disappointment at the world around you, and then giddiness at the realisation of Lockwood’s arm being slung around your torso and the most adorable fucking frown on his lips. You sigh happily, sitting up slightly, careful not to move his arm from its place. You glance at the clock on the bedside table-7:36am- dismiss it because it’s cold as shit, and weave your fingers into his hair, stroking his head and humming a song you don’t remember the name of. Today is a good day, a free day. Lucy will probably stay in bed until 9 and then make herself some toast, a cup of tea and then head back to bed and draw with the radio on. George won’t be up until around the same time, going to the kitchen to grab a pastry, make some tea and then bury himself in research about the Problem.
If he could help it Lockwood would probably not awaken for another couple hours also. Unless you moved. He’d probably wake up to drag you back to bed to cuddle with him then.
You wouldn’t be opposed to that actually.
Slowly you remove your hand from his hair, and then his arm from around you, letting out a small huff of laughter when he immediately moves it back, although still very unconscious. You swing a leg out from the quilt and place it on the (really fucking cold) floor, allowing for the majority of your weight to shift to that side. His other hand shoots out and grabs yours. For a couple seconds all you can pick up is incomprehensible mumbling, and then-
“Darling, come back.” It was a miracle you didn’t swoon, the nickname and the morning voice were a lethal combination. More grumbling and then he cracked an eye open and offered you a hopeful grin. “Please?”
Wow. How are you even alive anymore? It’s like your heart is simultaneously beating faster than humanly possible, and not at all.
You feel his arms completely embrace you and drag you into them. He props himself up on one elbow and kisses your forehead, whispering a ‘good morning’ onto it and then attacking the rest of your face with lazy kisses, his other arm still securely hugging you to him.
“How’re you so pretty after having just woken up?” he asks, and it sounds so curious and genuine, you almost melt, right there and then.
“I should ask you.” You try to play off how completely smitten you are by bantering with him, “Your morning hair is gorgeous dear.” you giggle at the hand that shoots up to try and smooth it down. It doesn’t work but you don’t particularly want to tell him, simply dragging his arm back down to cuddle you again.
You lay together, you in his arms and his chin resting on the top of your head, for a little while, simply enjoying each other's presence. You turn around, burrowing yourself further into the blankets-because it really is fucking cold as balls, far out-and you wrap your arms around his middle. Neither of you are quite sure when you started kissing or who started kissing who but neither of you were planning on pulling away first.
Kissing Anthony Lockwood was many things. Sometimes it was rushed and breathtaking, like after a particularly terrifying case, when he’d push his lips to yours with a certain sort of vigour, reassuring himself of your stable and safe condition. Sometimes it was heated and intoxicating, deep kisses that doused you in gasoline and lit you aflame.
These kisses are slow and idle, just the both of you enjoying the feel and existence of each other. You feel like you’re floating, tethered only by the feeling of his lips on yours. You’re infinite in his arms, your hands have found their way back to his hair, running your fingers through his hair. He pulls away and kisses the tip of your nose.
“You’re absolutely stunning.” His eyes lock with yours and his voice is hoarse and breathless from the kissing but still gravelly from having recently woken up. “You deserve everything and anything you so desire and I will go to the ends of the earth to provide you with that.” You kiss him again, just once, but it's hard and full of as much love as you can convey.
“I think that everything I want at all in this world is right here.”
“That is disgustingly adorable.” His smile is all the stars in a clear night sky.
“Thanks', I try.”
#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood and co#mars's fanfiction stuffs ✨#lockwood x reader
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Petals and Poems
Ayyy, look who's back to writing ! :) only took me 6 weeks but that's okay coming back with a short fluff piece. it was originally my wip titled lounging about, but it kind of took a turn and the blorbos did what they wanted, hope yall enjoy <3
Pairings: Gale x f!reader
Summary: Gale is off to work after making you breakfast, so you decided to go shopping and leave some gifts for him to find once he arrives home. Also Tara is peak mom in this.
Tags: None, just two idiots in love :')
Word count: 1.9k
The breeze rustling the curtains and the smell of the salty sea air is what woke you this morning. The start of the spring season in Waterdeep. As you raised your arms over your head as you stretched you noticed that your love was not next to you in the bed. Sitting up on your elbows, you looked around the room, looking to see if he were out on the balcony or in the ensuite bathroom. You didn’t see him anywhere, but soon enough you realized where he was as you heard the clatter of pots and pans. Smiling to yourself, you finally removed your blankets as you walked over to the bathroom to freshen up for the day before bundling up in your robe and walking down the tower stairs.
“HONE–” You and Gale both rounded the bottom of the stairs at the same time as he was calling to you that breakfast was done, bumping into each other. You quickly grabbed his apron, a lovely gift from Astarion with embroidery reading “Kiss The Wizard”, and he grabbed your wrist, the two of you stabilizing each other. You heard a loud merow from Tara as she ran off after getting startled by the two of you. Between his fits of laughter, Gale gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you that he had prepared breakfast for the two of you.
As you entered the kitchen your nose was hit with the sweetness of berries, the yeastness of fresh rolls, and the savory smell of eggs with a side of cheese.
“This smells, and looks, delicious as usual, Gale. Thank you.” You said as you planted a kiss on his lips as he leaned against the counter. Gale hummed against you as he grabbed your waist deepening the kiss. You could feel his smug smile against you as you tried to pull away from him, laughing as you reached for his hands.
“The breakfast you slaved over is going to get cold if you don’t stop it.”
“As I’ve said before, my angel, you could sate me for a lifetime.” Gale responded as he winked at you before turning back to the counter to prepare the both of you a cup of tea. You rolled your eyes as you took a seat at the table to make yourself a plate. Soon enough, Gale joined you at the table with a steaming cup of tea as you both enjoyed breakfast, discussing the plans the two of you had for the day. Gale talking at length about the various meetings he had with other teachers at Blackstaff Academy and what he was needing to do to prepare for the upcoming term starting. You listened intently before explaining that you were just planning on going to the markets, specifically the flower market, to see what you could find then doing some light cleaning and reading upon your return to the tower. Gale excitedly asked that you show him whatever you buy when he gets home that evening.
“You’ve brought a certain sense of peace to the tower with your taste in decor, I can’t wait to see what you find.” You couldn’t help but blush as he voiced his adoration for you. It was something that still caught you off guard even though the two of you had been together for some time already.
You and Gale said your goodbyes to each other as he left the tower, sighing contentedly as you closed the door behind him. You made your way back upstairs with Tara to finish getting ready for the day. The two of you entered the shared bedroom and went straight to the closet as you discarded your robe. Browsing your options, you finally found some, hopefully, acceptable pieces. For being a tressym, Tara was quite the brutal fashion critic. You held two blouse options up for Tara after you chose what pants you were going to wear.
“What do you think, Tara, the pink or the blue blouse with these brown trousers?”
Tara circled your legs as she looked up at the two blouses considering the options very carefully.
She sighed a bit as she jumped on the bed. “My dear child, while you have improved in your fashion sense a bit since moving here, your choices are still abysmal. Trade the brown trousers for black and pair it with the pink blouse. The pink suits your features well.”
You did your best not to be upset because a winged cat just insulted you but you also appreciated her advice. She was a bit right, after spending years adventuring and wearing almost only armor during that time, you really weren’t sure how to dress yourself and definitely realized that being in the City of Splendors with Gale. You silently nodded and did as Tara said, getting dressed as she left, leaving you alone in the room. You slid on your boots, grabbed your coin purse, and left the tower heading for the market center.
You quite enjoyed walking through Waterdeep, it was so different to what you were used to, having only been in the Baldur’s Gate area before. Even your adventures didn’t take you far from home. The market center had been your favorite since Gale first took you there. All of the smells always hit you a few blocks before you reach your destination. The various spices, cinnamon, sage, rosemary, coriander, chilis, almost every spice you could think of. Be it sweet, savory, spicy, the vendors had it. There were also the fishmongers fileting their most recent catches of the morning. That wasn’t as nice of a smell, but the saltiness in the air from the ocean water helped get past the fishiness of it all.
Your favorite spot in the entire market, though, are the flower vendors. All the flowers you could imagine, from common flowers found in almost every Waterhavian garden, to rare flowers found in the far reaches of Faerun. You could spend hours sitting in the midst of the fresh floral scents that came from the lilacs, roses, even the flowering herbs. You found it very calming, and as much as you wanted to stay, you were there for specific flowers to decorate the tower with. You bought 3 large bundles of lavender, baby’s breath, and an assorted mix of primrose, varying from pink to purple and to white.
Happy with your purchase, you decided to make your way back to the tower. Humming as you walked along, you looked around and one of the various bookstores caught your eye. You decided it wouldn’t hurt to pop in and see if you could find anything for yourself and hopefully something for Gale. You were able to find a book that piqued your interest, a guide to the folklore surrounding The North and other areas throughout the Sword Coast. However, trying to find a book that you thought Gale might want was proving difficult. Every book you were finding you quickly realized that he either had a copy back home or read a similar book already. Accepting defeat you start putting back the books you had wanted for Gale, knowing that he would be happy that you found something for yourself. While putting the last book back, you see a small book that had been pushed behind other books on the shelf. Pulling it out, reading the title Whispers of the Muse: A Tale of Poetic Magic. A book detailing the story of a wizard, who turned his spells into beautiful poetry, and his journey finding love amidst an adventure. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the wizard in the book reminded you of your own wizard. You quickly went to the shopkeeper to pay for your finds and continued your return home.
Gale announced his arrival back to the tower with a tired “I’m home, my love!”. He hung up his coat and set his bag down by the door, rubbing his neck as he made his way into the kitchen. With a wave of his hand, the candles came to life and he was surprised to see that he was greeted by Tara, sitting on the kitchen table, glaring at him.
“Mr. Dekarios! Have you any idea what time it is? The Mrs. waited for you as long as she could, the poor woman spent so long this afternoon cleaning the house and getting dinner ready for you.”
Gale looked around as he listened to Tara’s words and did notice that the tower was more organized and less dusty than he had previously left it this morning. He also noticed the bouquet sitting on the table next to Tara and a gift. He ran his fingers over the soft petals of the primrose and smiled as he saw his favorite flower, lavender, paired with your favorite flower, primrose, put together so beautifully.
“Thank you for taking care of her, Tara. I do truly appreciate it. I will be sure to show her my thanks, and apologies for returning home late, in the most appropriate way I can. Also, my dear Tara, please remember not to eat the lavender, it gives you the most terrible stomach aches.”
Tara gave Gale a low growl as she glared at him again, leaving for her spot on the couch with a harsh flick of her tail. Gale chuckled to himself as he reached for the gift that Tav also left for him, finding a note placed on the top.
Gale, I’m sorry I’m not there to greet you when you get home. It’s getting late and our bed is calling my name with its siren song. There’s a plate of dinner saved for you. I hope you like the flowers and the book. I think you’ll find some similarities between you and the fictional wizard. I love you and I’ll see you soon.
Unwrapping the book, Gale read the title and was immediately intrigued. He skimmed through a bit of the book before deciding it could wait til morning. He had the love of his life in his bed and he needed her.
Making his way up the stairs, he noticed more vases of flowers. The various bouquets adding fragrant pops of color all throughout the tower. Gale made his way to the bedroom and slowly opened the door. Slightly hoping you were still awake in bed, he peeked in, finding you sprawled out in bed, taking up as much space as your body would allow with a book laying open next to you. Admiring your sleeping form, Gale couldn’t help but thank the gods for you and him finding each other and falling in love. He didn’t know what to do without you and he didn’t want to go back to living without you.
Getting into his sleep clothes, he carefully got into bed, pushing your limbs back onto your side of the bed before pulling you into him for a cuddle. Gale was worried he had fully woken you up at first, as you had started to stir, but you sleepily pulled him in closer, placing a kiss on his chest where the orb was and went right back to sleep with a small smile on your face. Gale carded his hand through your hair as he kissed the top of your head, silently thanking you for everything you had done for him and saying I love you in every way he knew how.
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of violent delights chap 21
the triwizard tournament
11 october 1996
Mattheo’s POV
“Hi,” a small voice murmurs from my side and I look down at the ethereal vision that is Mia Potter in the morning. Her green eyes look up at me hazily, a sleepy smile on her lips, her auburn hair messily falling out of the bun she’d worn yesterday.
“Hi, princess,” I smile, resting my coffee cup and sketchbook on the nightstand before laying back down and pulling Mia over into my arms. Mia hums contently, nuzzling her head into my shoulder. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good,” she says through a yawn, “You?”
“Like a baby,” I confirm, my fingers playing with a strand of hair falling out of her bun mindlessly.
“Do I smell coffee?” She asks, turning so her hand rests on my bare chest and her chin resting over her scar so she can look at me. I nod and reach over to grab the coffee cup and hand it to her. She props herself up on her elbows and takes a sip and sighs happily. “You need to teach me how you make your coffee. Everytime I try it's practically herbal tea,” she says after she finishes the cup and I grab my wand and tap the cup, filling it back up with coffee, just to see the joy and wonder shine in her eyes.
“The simplest things make you happy,” I chuckle, my knuckles brushing against her cheek.
“Good coffee goes a long way,” she chuckles, offering me the cup back and I take a long sip before I rest it back on the nightstand. I lay back on the pillows, gazing at the woman in my arms with awe. “What?”
“Nothing, just… I’m sorry about Elladora,” I respond softly, one arm behind my head and the other fiddling with Mia’s fingers, her nails painted a dark red.
“Don’t be. I’m used to Lestrange and her venom,” she responds easily, weaving her fingers with mine.
“You’re gonna realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth soon,” I chuckle, my eyes taking in the sight before me, terrified it's destined to fall apart even though it feels more right than anything has before.
“I don’t mind trouble,” Mia responds with a soft smile, “It keeps life interesting,” she says, pulling herself up to hover over me. My hands immediately find her waist beneath the scarlet quilt, rubbing circles on her skin with my thumb.
“Mia…”
“Don’t,” she says, shaking her head, “Don’t try to talk yourself or me out of this, Matt. No one else matters, except us.” She leans down as her forehead connects with mine, her arms bending so she’s laying directly on top of me. “No one else changes this,” she whispers, her fingers running through my hair.
“You’re right,” I mutter with a nod and she moves her head back to look at me.
“I usually am,” she winks with a smile. I smile and pull her closer again; our lips connecting again as I roll us over so I’m on top of Mia, pinning her beneath me.
“Hm, of course you are, princess,” I say lowly in her ear before my lips trail a line down the soft skin of her neck, the faded smell of perfume and smoke lingering on her skin. Mia lets out a soft gasp, her hands exploring the expanse of my back, sending chills up my spine, and I wish I could stay here in this moment for the rest of my life, this woman in my arms as we ignore the rest of the world.
✦
Euphemia’s POV
“Hey, can I talk to you?” I ask, twisting my ring anxiously. Fred looks up from some small invention in his fingers, his eyes catching on my hands, and nods. Even though Mrs. Weasley threw away all their order forms and inventions for Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, George and Fred have stayed determined. I sit on the couch and sigh. “I have to tell you something and I don’t want you to get mad at me. Or get even more mad at me than you already are.” Fred’s hands stop fiddling and he looks up again at me, his eyes distant.
“Let me guess, you and Riddle are officially together,” he says bluntly. He’s always known me better than anyone else, able to read me easily.
“Yeah… I wanted you to hear it from me first and I know you don’t approve and I also can’t stand that you’re mad at me but I’m also not going to stop seeing him so we need to figure out where we go from here. I know you hate him and you don’t have to like him but I need you to at least try to give him a chance. Just try to tolerate him at least, please. That’s all I’m asking, Freddie. You’re my best friend and I just need you to try because you being mad at me is driving me crazy,” I say, quickly running through all the things I decided I needed to say to him.
“He’s going to fuck everything up, Mia. Your happiness, your reputation, you-”
“Well it’s mine to ruin! I’m happy now and I don’t care about what anyone else in the world thinks. It’s not my fault everyone else has unrealistic expectations of me,” I interrupt him, beyond tired of being expected to live up to this perfect, innocent little girl idea everyone wants me to be.
“This isn’t you!” Fred says, waving his hands wildly.
“Yes, it is, don’t you see?! For probably the first time in my life this is completely and totally me. What I want, not what’s best for Harry or what I think everyone else wants for me, just what I want. I’m tired, Freddie. I’m tired of doing what I think I’m supposed to do or what everyone else says to.” I say exasperated and pleading with him to understand. Fred watches me for a long moment, his eyes looking at me like I’m an invention he can’t get to work properly. “Just once, I want to do what I want.”
“You really like him, don’t you?” He says finally, his eyes softer than they were before.
“Yeah,” I say, so quietly it's almost a whisper, “I do.” Fred nods, setting the small box he was working on down and his eyes finally find mine.
“If he hurts you, George and I will make him pay for it,” he says matter of factly, as if he was commenting on the weather. I can’t help but laugh a little.
“Harry said the same thing so I’m sure he’d be willing to help if it comes to that,” I chuckle.
“Good, I think Bill and Charlie will want to pitch in. Ginny too, I’m sure.”
“I’ll make sure to tell him that he’ll have to answer to the whole Weasley clan if he fucks up,” I smile. Fred laughs and nods, his eyes a little distant for a moment, staring off just to the left of me. “So we’re good? You don’t hate me for-”
“I could never hate you, Mia. We’re all good. As long as you’re happy,” Fred interrupts me, knocking his shoulder against mine playfully.
“Thank you… I love you, Freddie,” I say, leaning into my best friend.
“Love you too, Phe. In a totally platonic, you’re my best friend save George kinda way,” Fred responds with a cheeky grin and we both laugh.
“Did you guys finally make up?” George asks as he steps off the stairs and comes to sit next to Fred.
“Yeah, we’re good,” Fred nods with a smile for me.
“Thank, Godric!” George yells loudly, making everyone in the common room whip around to look at us and the three of us burst into laughter and for the moment. Everything feels normal again as we laugh and the rest of the room shakes their heads at us thinking, Just the twins and Mia making a ruckus again. Life as normal.
✦
24 october 1996
I sit at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast for the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The Great Hall is decked out with banners of the houses and the Hogwarts crest. An extra table has been added to the hall for the visiting students, one side filled by French students dressed in silk blue robes that cannot be very warm and the other filled with the students of the Scandinavian school who are dressed much more appropriately for the weather. Madam Maxine of Beauxbatons and Headmaster Karkaroff of Durmstrang sit up at the teacher’s table as well as Mr. Crouch from the Ministry of Magic.
As we eat, talk circles heavily around the tournament but most people are in awe of Victor Krum who came with the Durmstrang entourage. Ron and Harry, in particular, in star struck that the Bulgarian Seeker is in the same building as them for the second time in a season. While my friends are more concerned with the French girls.
“Man, I’m telling you, they don’t make girls like that at Hogwarts,” Fred says, sparing a smile for the girls at the guest table which sends a small cacophony of giggles into the air.
“Ugh, really nice,” I scoff and roll my eyes.
“Just truth telling,” Fred shrugs.
“Well they certainly don’t make men like Krum at Hogwarts either,” Angelina responds with a smirk, turning over her shoulder towards the Durmstrag students, and George’s face sours. I make eye contact with Alicia and we both fail to stifle our laughter. We all know George and Angelina are whipped for each other, except them, but before either can question Ali and I, Dumbledore stands and holds his hands up for silence.
“The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the case just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, from the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Dumbledore motions to Crouch as we clap half heartedly. “Mr. Crouch has helped make the necessary arrangements for each challenge, of which there will be three, spaced out throughout the school year.”
“So three tasks is the reason we can’t play Quidditch this year?” Angelina mutters and I shrug.
“Three champions will be chosen, one from each school, to compete in these tasks and will be marked on how they perform and the winner will win the Triwizard Cup,” to which Dumbledore motions back to Crouch who holds up a large trophy that looks similar to the Quidditch Cup we won last year. “The champions will be chosen by an impartial party. The Goblet of Fire!” Dumbledore then motions to his other side where a case, placed by Mr. Filch, sits. Dumbledore waves his hand and the case disappears to show a huge goblet with a massive base making it nearly as tall as the Headmaster himself. Blue flames flicker over the rim as everyone cranes their necks to get a view.
“Anyone wishing to submit their names must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and drop it into the goblet by dinner on the 31st. After our annual Halloween feast, the choosing ceremony will take place and the Triwizard Tournament will begin!” At this students erupt in cheers and applause. George and Fred share a look and I know they are plotting to put their names forward. “Now, as I have mentioned previously, only students of 19 years and older may put forth their names,” grumbling rumbles through the student body at this.
“Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There is no turning back. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all!”
“He loves to leave it all on a cheery note, doesn’t he?” Lee laughs as we exit into the hallway and move to the side, Ang, Alicia, Lee and I waiting on the Twins who got stuck in the crowd.
“Hey,” a voice whispers in my ear as hands land on my hips and I startle, turning to see Mattheo smirking.
“You scared me!” I playfully scold, “Didn’t know who the hell was trying to touch me!”
“Hm, I think most guys here are smart enough not to touch my girl,” Matt says with a proud smirk, and then turns to greet my friends.
“‘Sup, mate?” Lee says with a smile. Since I talked with Fred, the boys have been much more receptive to Mattheo and his friends. It’s not perfect; George and Theo got into a tiff a week or so ago but they’re trying and that’s all I can ask for.
“I think an aging potion would do the trick, don't you?” Fred says to George as they emerge around the corner.
“Riddle, you’re good at Potions right?” George asks, seeing Mattheo next to me.
“Yeah, s'pose so. Why? Cause I don’t tutor,” Matt responds and I elbow him in the side playfully.
“Theoretically, you could brew an aging potion to only age you a few months, right?” Fred asks, both of the Weasleys looking very intensely at my boyfriend.
“Don’t rope him into whatever the two of you are up to!”
“Eh, it’s less about the brewing and more about how much you drink. It’ll be tricky though…” Matt responds with a shrug.
“Guys, you cannot tell me you’re seriously going to try this hard to get into the tournament?” Alicia asks bewildered.
“What if they kick you out when they find out you're only 18?” Lee chimes in.
“You heard Dumbledore,” Fred says.
“Putting your name is a binding contract. They couldn’t stop you competing if they wanted,” George finishes.
“Just don’t ask for my help when you realize you made yourself 30,” I chuckle, weaving my hand with Mattheo’s as we climb the stairs towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Lately, Mattheo has been staying in my room more often than his own, not that I’m complaining. And right now, I’m happy as can be in the midst of my friends and boyfriend as they continue chatting excitedly.
A/n; a lot of Dumbledore’s speech is from the books btw but this is kinda filler with some cute morning matt and Mia
taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#matteo riddle#harry potter fandom#hogwarts oc#hogwarts#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hp fanfic#hogwarts houses#wizarding world#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle imagines
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Submissive
GOKU | Vegeta | Raditz
❧
PAIRING: Goku/Reader
RATING: Explicit
CONTENTS: Explicit Sexual Content, Porn Without Plot, Dom/Sub Undertones, Power Play, Pegging.
WORDCOUNT: 2291
Summary:
Goku has a way of atoning for his sins (those sins include being gone for months at a time), and that usually involves him doing whatever you ask of him without too much protest when he’s around. Most of the time at least. But that’s how you know there’s a submissive side to him that a lot of people don’t know about. So he doesn’t shy away when you suggest trying something different that night.
Notes:
I'm writing this for myself because there's not a lot of pegging fics if you ask me so I'm taking one for the team. I know this is not everyone's cup of tea but if you don't like, don't read.
I was gonna post all three chapters on March 8 but I just wanna start posting them now so, I'll post one tomorrow and the last one the day after.
As always, I proofread this quickly so there might be some grammar mistakes.
Goku has a way of atoning for his sins (those sins include being gone for months at a time), and that usually involves him doing whatever you ask of him without too much protest when he’s around. Most of the time at least. But that’s how you know there’s a submissive side to him that a lot of people don’t know about. So he doesn’t shy away when you suggest trying something different that night. He obviously doesn’t know what ‘pegging’ is, but after you explained it to him simple enough so he can understand, he just shrugs and accepts happily before asking what’s for dinner.
You’re content with yourself because that has been even easier than you imagined.
“So, Goku,” You start, sitting next to him on the bed. “You understand what we’re doing tonight, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” He nods eagerly, already taking off his pants and discarding them on the floor.
He’s only in his boxers now, and you’re already naked underneath your shirt, the lube and the strap laying on the mattress, ready to be used any minute. You have to check with him again, just to make sure he’s okay with what you’re going to do.
“You can tell me to stop anytime if you don’t like it.”
“Okay,” He shrugs and smiles sweetly. “I don’t think I will, though.”
You return his smile and lean closer to kiss him on the lips. Goku is so sweet, you want to just eat him sometimes. He wraps his arms around your waist naturally, pulling you closer as the kiss gets deeper, his tongue darting out to trace your bottom lip.
When his hands start grabbing your waist and hips more urgently, you know you have to pull away before he forgets about your initial plan. You break off the kiss, pulling back just as he leans in, clearly entranced and wanting more. You chuckle, pecking him on the lips one last time before sitting further back. He pouts but lets you go.
“Lie down,” You gently instruct him, watching him carefully as he does as told.
Goku still has his underwear on, so you crawl closer to him and hook your fingers on the waistband to drag them down his legs and off. It makes you grin when you see he’s already half hard; he doesn’t exactly know what’s going to happen yet he seems excited about it. His expectant smile also seems to be telling the same thing. You put on the strap-on then, sliding it up your legs and fastening the buckles while he watches you intensely.
“You’re putting that inside me?” He asks you curiously.
“Yeah, is that okay?”
He sits up on his elbows, taking glances between his own cock and the dildo attached to the strap before nodding. The dildo was a lot smaller than his dick and not even as long, but you don’t need more than the size you’re wearing for the first time. If you find that sensitive spot inside him, that should be enough.
You lean down to kiss his lips again, softly this time, as you settle comfortably between his legs. You trail your lips down his jaw, focusing on nipping the crook of his neck, earning a low groan from him, before continuing your journey downwards. Pressing gentle kisses all over his chest and abdomen until you reach his hips, his cock is already hard and standing at attention once your mouth is just inches away.
Pressing your hands to his thighs to open them wider, you kiss the head of his dick before licking at the slit. Goku groans, his gaze fixed on your every move as you don’t waste time to take him into your mouth. It’s not your intention to make him come yet, so you take your time, slurping and dragging your tongue on the underside to rile him up just a little. His hips snap upwards into your mouth, and you pop off him after a moment as he grunts in protest.
Grabbing the bottle of lube, you pour a generous amount on your fingers and press your index to his entrance as you watch his face for any sign of discomfort. He frowns and lets out a gasp, but doesn’t complain once as your finger pushes in, and you slowly and carefully thrust in and out until it’s fully inside him.
“You okay?” You ask him, running your other hand up and down his thigh.
“Yeah…” Goku replies, voice breathy.
“How does it feel?”
“It’s weird…”
“Do you wanna keep going?”
He nods, and you squeeze his side in appreciation.
You cautiously slide in another finger, and this time, he practically cries out. You freeze momentarily, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Mindful about his reaction, you pull your digits back before pushing in again, and his whole body shudders. After a while, you ease in another finger, another groan slipping from his lips as he gets used to the stretch before you start scissoring them.
Trying to look for that spot inside him that’s supposedly pleasant for men, your digits curl inside him a couple of times until his body tenses up. Goku lets out an incredibly loud moan that makes you gape at him.
“What was that?” He pants, looking at you with confused and surprised eyes.
“It’s… a spot that men have that’s supposed to feel good.” You reply, simplifying the answer for him, and to avoid the word ‘prostate’ altogether. “Did it feel good?”
“Yeah…” He swallows loudly before nodding. “Weird, but good.”
You curl your fingers in that same spot again, and his thighs shiver.
“I suppose Saiyans have it too, then.” You smile, victoriously.
When you pull out your fingers after a moment, ready to put the toy inside him, Goku protests, sitting up on his elbows once again to stare at you.
“Is it over already?” He asks, clearly alarmed that you stopped when he’s still visibly turned on.
“No,” You snicker, nestling closer and leaning down to kiss him briefly on the lips. “I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”
Your words seem to reassure him enough, so he lays back down, letting you keep going with your initial plan. Coating the dildo with lube, you gazed at Goku carefully.
“Get on all fours?” You ask, hesitantly.
He looks at you as your words sink in before nodding, quickly rolling over and getting on his hands and knees in front of you. It’s difficult not to stare then; Goku’s body is truly a sight to behold. You feel a little weird because you’re so used to admiring his chiseled chest and abdomen, but his behind was just as defined. Your hands settle on his shoulder blades, feeling his hardened skin as you trail downwards, stopping at the spot where his tail used to be. You skim through it delicately, and he groans softly, his body jolting; that particular spot has always been sensitive and you have the opportunity to use that knowledge in your favor right now.
Giving his ass a squeeze lastly before getting on your knees, you guide the dildo towards his entrance, pressing the tip in slowly. Goku gasps, head dropping, as you hold his hips firmly while pushing inside him, inch by inch.
“Oh, fuck!” He groans, and you stare at the back of his head with wide eyes. Goku curses sometimes, especially during sex, but he said the word with such feeling you put your moves to a halt.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” You ask him softly, leaning down over his back.
“No! It’s weird but it’s not bad and… I wanna try, for you…” He says quietly, and you’re about to tell him he doesn’t have to do anything for you, but he goes on before you can speak. “You said this will feel good, so…”
“Okay.” You ran a hand up and down his spine reassuringly.
You move your hips once more, pushing the rest of the dildo inside him. Goku keeps making bold noises, like the stretch is bothering him; so you focus on the furry scar on his lower back, rubbing it with your thumb gently. He cries out then, whole body trembling. You smile; you do recognize that reaction, at least he doesn’t feel so tense anymore. Once you’re fully sheathed, you still move your finger to distract him as he gets adjusted to having basically a dick inside him.
“I’m gonna move now.” You tell him, moving your thumb away from his lower back to grip his hip.
“O-okay…” His voice is a little hoarse, but you try not to worry after what he said.
Easing him into the experience, you slowly pull back a little before pushing back in, trying to make his body get used to being stretched. Goku grunts and gasps with every move, but after a beat, you notice the slide gets significantly easier, and the noises he makes decrease in volume.
You try to aim for that sweet spot you reached inside him earlier, so you shift behind him, your hips angling differently as you move slowly into him until Goku suddenly moans again and his body shudders. You smile, happy to have found it again, and stroke it again to test your thrusts; he drops from his hands to his elbows as a breathy groan slips his lips.
Encouraged by the sounds he’s making, you pull back more before pushing back inside him with a little more force. He moans again, low and deep, and it’s one of the sexiest sounds that he ever let out. You move against him again, slightly rougher, and his body jumps forward, almost as if you have shoved him.
“Fuck!” He cries out again.
You stare at the back of his head, amazed. Too bad you can’t see his face from this position, but the noises he makes, his voice, and his cursing are doing things to you, you can feel it in that warmth pooling in your tummy.
“Please touch me…” Goku says, begs, and your insides tingle.
Leaning over, you try to keep the same even pace you had set while you reach around him to grip his erection. You stroke his cock languidly, smearing the precum he’s leaking before pumping it in time with your thrusts.
“Fuck! Son of a-” He doesn’t finish the sentence as he presses his face to the mattress.
You’re not sure if you ever heard him curse as much and besides turning you on, it’s amusing you a little bit.
Goku is completely lost in the pleasure you’re giving him; he keeps moaning and babbling against the sheets as you keep on moving inside him, persistently stroking his sweet spot and jerking him off at the same time. You run your free hand up and down his chest, pressing a kiss in between his shoulder blades, when he speaks again.
“Faster…” He says quietly, but you heard it loud and clear.
You’re just a human, but you plan on doing your best for Goku, especially because he keeps making those wonderful noises, and his body keeps shivering under your touch; you want to make him feel as good as possible.
Shifting behind him to get better leverage, you hold onto his hip with one hand as you slam into him as fast and as hard as you can. He lets out a dragged out groan as your hand keeps stroking his dick, and his breathing gets increasingly more ragged the more you snap your hips against his ass. He’s gripping the sheets tightly, knuckles turning white, and his cock is dripping even more precum.
“Are you gonna come?” You ask softly.
“Soon…” Goku gasps against the bed. “Please don’t- ah, stop…”
Your heart flutters. You don’t think you’d enjoy seeing him like this this much.
Soon enough, his body tenses up and he cries out, his cock throbbing in your hand as he comes, spilling cum onto your sheets and your hand. A growl rumbles in his chest as you help him ride out his orgasm, pumping his dick, making his hips snap forward. You slow down the moves of your hips, sliding the toy carefully inside him until his body finally stills.
As you pull out, Goku slumps onto the bed, completely spent. He’s panting, and you watch him attentively as you reach for a tissue by the nightstand to clean your hand.
“Goku? Are you okay?” You ask him, leaning over him as you caress his back with your hands.
“Uh-huh… ” He mumbles against the sheets, and you chuckle contently.
You quickly get rid of the strap-on, tossing it on the floor and ignoring the uncomfortable slickness between your legs. Laying beside him, you press a kiss to his shoulder, moving your hand up and down his back to soothe him.
“Did you like it?”
“Yeah…”
“Good.” You kiss his shoulder again, pressing your body closer. “Would you like to do it again sometime?”
“Yeah!” He replies more enthusiastically, with his face still against the sheets, making you giggle.
The wind is knocked out of you when Goku suddenly rolls over and practically tackles you against the bed. You gape at him as he basically pins you down, chortling triumphantly over you. Your cheeks turn red when he moves downwards, grinning smugly as he positions himself in between your legs, opening them up with his hands to expose your folds to him. You don’t try to stop him, you both know how wet you are, and you don’t try to be quiet when he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, trailing his lips closer to where you need him the most.
#dbz fics#dbz fanfiction#dbz imagine#goku x you#goku x reader#goku#son goku#dbz#dragon ball z#my writing
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Do you think you could do a fic about a one on one confrontation between Aang and Zuko over Katara?
Aang bounced his leg up and down in agitation. Katara was late, but that was alright. He had been early. The clock on the wall told him that he had been waiting for an hour, and she was only ten or so minutes late.
He was facing away from the door. He had taken the opposite seat at first, but he thought Katara coming in to see him watching the door door for her arrival would make him look desperate. Which, to be clear, he was not. Still, each time the door opened behind him, it took all his willpower to just cast a quick, casual glance behind him.
Casual
That was the word for the evening. He had picked this tavern because it was lowkey. Out of the way. He'd worn a knitted hat and neutral colored clothes so that it wasn't immediately obvious that he was the Avatar. The patrons at the tavern were working class, and stopping in for tea- or something slightly stronger- on their way home. Aang wasn't sure they would care that they were in the presence of the Avatar even if they knew. It was a good thing, though. Aang remembered that Katara didn't like it when he was swarmed by friends when his attention was supposed to be on her. That would not happen tonight.
Fifteen minutes after Katara was meant to arrive, Aang saw a carriage pull to a stop outside the tavern. It was unmarked, but clearly carrying someone wealthy. It was her! Aang was certain. He forced himself to keep facing forward, with his back to the door, holding his teacup to make himself look busy. He heard light foot steps heading towards him, and his breath grew short with excitement. He looked up with bright smile on his face, ready to greet Katara.
"I'm so glad you-" Aang stood to greet her only to be met by a tall, hooded man, instead of the small, lovely woman he'd been waiting for.
"Aang," Zuko greeted him and slid into the seat across from him.
"What are you doing here?" Aang demanded, his face twisted as if he'd taken bite of something spoiled. Zuko motioned for him to have a seat.
"Katara sent me," he explained.
"No," Aang gaped at him and shook his head. "She said she would keep this between us. No way she told you. You must have...have forced her to tell you or read her diary or something." To his ever increasing aggravation, Zuko looked amused.
"You and I both know I couldn't force her to do anything," he said. "And I don't know if she keeps a diary, but probably not. Katara told me on her own. The day you visited the palace, actually. She didn't know what you wanted, but she said she wasn't comfortable coming to see you." Aang just stared down at him in shock. When Zuko bade him to sit again, he complied, if for no other reason than his legs seemed to not want to support him anymore.
"Why would she tell you?" he asked, more to himself than to Zuko. "Why wouldn't she want to see me?" Zuko raised his brow at that. He grabbed a cup from the table between them- the cup that was meant for Katara- and helped himself to some of the tea.
"I think you know why," Zuko said. He took a sip of the tea, made a face and set it aside. Then he sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. "Aang, we need to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you," Aang spat out. He crossed his arms and scowled at the fireplace next to them. This was, he thought, the most romantic seat in the place, and it was wasted on Zuko, his ex-best friend.
"That's fair," Zuko said. "But I have something to say to you. It's been three years, Aang. Why are you still bothering her?" Heat rolled through Aang from his toes to his scalp. He turned his scowl from the floor to Zuko. A few years ago, Aang would have gone into the Avatar State, but after he'd accidentally leveled a farm, Katara had told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to learn to control his power of lose her forever, he'd found Guru Pathik and finished what he'd started a long time ago. His anger no longer led to terrible displays of his power.
"I love her," he told Zuko as if it were the most obvious truth in the world. To Aang, it was the most obvious truth in the world. Zuko, though, just sat there with that pitying look on his face. For a split instant, Aang was tempted to give him another scar to match the one on his face.
"If you really love Katara," Zuko said, "then listen to her."
"I'm trying!" Aang insisted. "But she won't give me a chance to hear her."
"Oh no?" Zuko sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "So, when she told you she didn't want to be with you anymore and you decided to keep pursuing her for three years, that was you listening?"
"That was because she needed me to master the..." Aang looked around nervously and dropped his voice, "Avatar State! And I have!"
"The world needed that," Zuko scoffed. "What about two years ago, when she told you we were dating, and you still decided to keep pursuing her? Were you listening then?"
"That isn't fair!"
"No, it isn't," Zuko agreed. "It isn't fair that you keep putting Katara in the position to hurt your feelings. She wanted to stay friends with you, you know. She still cares about you."
"Because she knows deep down that we are meant to be!" Aang insisted. "If you would just let her go-"
"I'm not the one who needs to let go," Zuko said. "Katara is a very smart woman who knows what she wants. If she told me tomorrow that she didn't want to be with me, I'd believe her. The only time Katara has ever doubted herself is because she knew what she wanted would hurt someone else. She cares for you, but she isn't in love with you. You have to learn to be okay with that. You're too old to still be acting this way."
Aang's shoulders sagged heavily. He stared at the table for a long moment. At 22, he had faced challenges that would've broken most people. He mastered all forms of bending by age 12, single handedly ended a war, and had begun the process of resurrecting his entire culture from the dead. He'd done it all in the face of impossible odds. And he'd done all of it through sheer force of will. Even getting Katara in the first place had been through persistence. He had been in love with her for over a decade. How could he give up on her now?
"I won't give up," Aang said quietly. He looked up and saw the disappointment on Zuko's face.
"Then you're going to lose her," he said. Aang's face contorted with anger.
"I've already lost her!" he hissed. "I'm going to get her back!" Zuko regarded Aang thoughtfully for a long while. Then he sighed and stood up.
"Well, I tried," he said. "And since you've proven you can't be trusted, you're never going to be alone with Katara again."
"Worried she'll come to her senses?" Aang taunted. Zuko raised his brow, and his lips curled into the most infuriating smirk.
"No," he said. "I'm worried that the world leaders might frown on the Fire Lady decking the Avatar."
For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Aang's hands and feet felt numb and he was genuinely afraid his heart had stopped beating. Fire Lady. That meant...
"We've been engaged for a month," Zuko told him not unkindly. "We've already told the others. We're going to make a public announcement next week. Katara thought it be best that you find out before then. She wanted to have everything settled between you two before the wedding. She still wants you there, you know. But only if you promise you're done pressing her."
His words reached Aang as if he were speaking underwater. There must be some mistake, Aang thought. Katara- his Katara- couldn't be marrying someone else. Especially not Zuko, who had once been one of Aang's best friends. Aang longed to wipe the pitying look off of Zuko's face. He thought he'd won, Aang realized. He really thought Katara was in love with him, but Aang was her destiny. He had to be. After all, how many women would turn down the love of the Avatar? Yes, Zuko was a king, but Aang was the savior of the world. Surely, that had to trump. Aang stood up before his mind had caught up to him.
"Aang." Zuko was looking up at him with a furrowed brow. Fake concern. Fake like his friendship. Fake like his declaration that he would let Katara go if she wanted to leave him.
"I have to go," Aang mumbled. Then he bowed his head once and hurried out of the little shop. He could feel Zuko's pitying eyes on him as he left, but it didn't matter. Nothing matter except Katara.
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universe abound
| ◆ ch.5 ⑊ high tea.
⬙⤠ masterlist ⤝⬙
◇ a/n ◇ how do writers build such intricate worlds i am literally pulling my hair rn trying to connect the dots and covering the plot holes sldkfjlsdkf no one look
"your grace-"
"[name]."
"how could i dare to speak the sacred name with this lowly tongue of mi-"
"beel."
the joy that spreads across her expression just from a single mutter of her name makes you feel a little awkward. you weren't even saying it in a pleasant tone, more of a ‘parent scolding a child’ type of tone… you used to find the cultish and worshipping tendencies of sagau romantic, but to actually receive the treatment like this… it feels a little daunting.
"that is my name, yes!"
"hey! how come she gets called by name and not me! i, for one, will gladly call you by name as much as you want!" barbatos puffs out his chest proudly, throwing you his signature wide smile. you’re still not used to this version of him - you have definitely seen this particular skin before, but you never really owned it, seeing as by that time you had other higher priorities to use your money for instead of using them to buy clothes for a fictional character.
that's so weird to think of.
"[name]? ehe, you're staring… does this appearance please you~?"
".... eh?"
"i thought you'd like it, cause the last time an outsider visited, they had this look and you sounded so excited and happy to see him... so i decided to copy them! well, with a few modifications of course~" he motions towards the crystal cores on his braids, smiling as he's recalling an old memory, "you used to laugh whenever i start chasing around the crystalflies, remember? i couldn't help but take a few, i thought you'd like it!"
you want to question so many things in that sentence. like, what did he mean by an outsider visiting? when is this last time he spoke of? what did he mean by you sounding excited and happy? and when did you ever see him chase after crystalflies? was there such an event in the game? why is he speaking as if he’s met you in person before when you've never-
a pinming cup is elegantly served in front of you with a soft clink. your eyes trail up the arm sporting bright colored geo lines to meet morax’s amber-gold eyes, and he offers you a gentle smile.
wow, he’s so beautiful up close.
"oh. i… am glad you think so, [name]."
oh shit, did you just say that outloud?!
"[name], [name], what about me??"
you palm your heated cheeks and decide to abandon your shame altogether. fuck it, if you’re going to be here for a while - which it looks like you will be - then you might as well live out your younger self’s daydreams of interacting and spoiling these ‘fictional’ characters, "you're pretty too, barbatos. and you too, beel."
if only you had your phone with you now, so you can capture the beautiful sight of raiden ei herself blushing, eyes crinkling in a smile, shyly hidden behind her palm covering her lips. on your other side, venti himself has for once quietened down, opting to beam at you with both of his palms supporting his chin, elbows leaning against the table, faint pink dusting his cheeks and a lovesick grin on his lips.
morax sits at the last open seat across from you, still wearing the same smile as before, and you wish you could screenshot this picture-perfect scene, share it online and watch as people lose their minds. because it feels like you're starting to lose your mind right this moment.
"so, [name]. though we are more than joyous that you’ve decided to return, it would be nice to have some… explanation, regarding what has been going on. and perhaps plan our next course of actions."
morax’s calming voice does nothing to quell the sudden spike in your heart rate.
explanation? they want you to explain… what exactly? if anything, you were the one who should be hoping for an explanation. you came to this world because of the game, right? you didn't want to be here in the first place…
"i… can’t."
"your grace, please rest assured, you can trust us completely-"
"i’ll be completely honest. i can't give you any explanation because i have no idea why or how is it that i am here with you right now."
your confession brings a sudden silence over the group.
this time, the anemo archon is the one who reacts first. leaning closer onto your side, eyes wide, he tries to meet your eyes, "b-but- didn't you hear our prayers? received our offerings? isn't that why you came back?"
prayers and offerings.
you think back to the notifications you received. you suppose you can call them prayers, to some extent, although you’ve never seen it as such before this. so the 'person' behind those were… the inhabitants of teyvat themselves? and the free gifts were offerings from them?
… regardless of whom those pings came from, they were the reason why you tried to open the game. so technically, you can say that barbatos is correct, right?
you were about to nod when morax's question intercepted the motion, a slight frown forming between his eyebrows as he observes your expression.
"[name], are you aware of the state of teyvat right now?"
the geo archon’s question triggers a flutter of scenery that you’ve seen through the led screen of your device. they flash before your eyes and you briefly feel the hot lead of guilt filling your stomach. that was… what, months ago? a year? time usually passes faster in the game than in real life, but is that really the case here? because if so, you don't really want to know how the current situation is.
you decide there's no point in lying, so you nod, "just the… gist of it. i know that things aren't… good."
"... forgive me if this sounds intrusive, however, i must ask - where have you been prior to today, [name]? we haven't seen you in person ever since…. ever since you ascended celestia," he sounded… pained, when he says this, and you observe his neutral facade in confusion.
not ‘ascended to celestia’, but ‘ascended celestia’ itself? you might not remember all the lores anymore, but you could've sworn nothing mentioned that.
but then again, the original lore never mentioned the existence of a divine creator or anything pointing to such a being.
"i… i’m not…. i don’t……."
the words are tethering at the tip of your tongue, but something holds them back from spilling out. a dark thought crosses your mind, the possibility making you freeze in fear for a second.
so far, you only know that the game - or whoever it is - that's responsible for bringing you here, actually went through with it because it thinks that you can save this world, in one way or another. knowing this, you can certainly choose to go along with this whole charade; to just play your part and maybe if you're lucky you’ll get some kind of more concrete instructions on what exactly it is that you're supposed to do to ‘save teyvat’. but…
on the chance that it is mistaken, and you're not this all-divine being, the moment the real one arrives, what will become of you?
will you be tossed aside? burned at the stake? stoned to death? electrified into a crisp by beelzebul? stabbed through morax's spear? tossed down starsnatch cliff by barbatos?
you shudder. reading about those 'bad ends' in fiction works was one hell of an experience in itself, but having the possibility of those events actually happening to you is enough to make you rethink your whole plan of action. there's no guarantee that these three will believe you and there's also a possibility that they'll turn back on you the moment you tell them the truth. but lying to them just feels… wrong. and just as risky.
"before that… first, answer me this. how do you know that i'm…. well… me, and not just some… impostor… who's pretending to be the creator?"
the three archons look as if you've just slapped them right on their face. flabbergasted and looking borderline offended, morax - as expected - is the first to compose himself, and he scrambles to pick his words carefully.
"how? but… how could we not? we could never forget your voice, your grace. just as how crystalflies would gather around areas abundant with the energy of their respective elemental types, our very being always yearns to be in your very presence. it is simply the law of nature."
"the aforesaid. there is no question that you’re the divine creator. even i who have not met you directly before this occasion knows that you are, without a doubt, the one who has been guiding me all these times," beel explains with conviction, purple eyes crackling with electro, "please rest assured, if such a sinful being dare to appear in front of your eyes, i will strike it down at once and vaporize them to dust."
her words bring a certain scene at tenshukaku to mind, and you shudder. your silence only deepens the furrows on the two gods' foreheads, and they glance at each other in silence, wondering if they had somehow aggrieved you with their words. in an attempt to do damage control, barbatos inches his hand towards your side of the table and speaks to you in a gentle tone.
"[name]... your appearance may change and you may look like just a normal human being, but the whole teyvat will always recognize you as its master. and that includes its people - meaning, us! you are, undoubtedly, the one and only creator of this teyvat. this barbatos guarantees it! so… so, please, don't look so scared of us, okay?"
your eyes flick between the anemo archon and your steaming cup of tea as your brain tries to come up with a reply. you'd never pegged him of all people to be as observant as he is now… or perhaps your expressions aren't as controlled as you thought.
all this thinking and speculation exhausts you. already, you can feel a tightness at both sides of your head, a warning sign of an incoming stress headache. with a loud sigh, you slump backward onto your chair, hands raised in a surrendering motion.
"fine. i'll tell you what happened from my perspective… with one condition. i want you all to promise me. me, not as your 'god' or 'creator' or any 'divine being', but as… a friend. promise me that whatever happens in the future, you won't hurt me."
"hurt you?! my liege…," the dark purple-haired god shrinks on her seat when you give her a stern look following her outburst. meanwhile, the other two look just as petrified at the prospect of you asking them to swear that they won't do such sacrilegious action.
it finally dawns on them that you do not trust them.
".... very well. if it will ease your heart, as the god of contracts, i shall oversee this promise to ensure that it is held. a binding contract between us and a single individual - [name]."
you can feel some tension leave your body at morax's declaration. in your frazzled state, it seems that you have forgotten about that option. contracts - yes, that could come in handy, you'll have to remember it. you'd like to believe that based on his lore and character, morax would never break a contract, especially the ones he has set personally.
so for now, you should be safe…
"great. now… it's up to you to believe me or not. but i really hope you do and won't think that i'm being delusional, or something."
and so, you began your story. starting from the very beginning. your identity, your life back on earth (though you skipped telling them a lot of things there, because you don't have the energy nor memory capacity to narrate all the years you've lived in - how the hell does morax remember all his 6000 years of life??), how you found out about genshin and started playing it (it took a while to explain this because you can see the confusion in their faces whenever you said certain words like 'video game' or 'server'), how years passed and how it was supposed to be terminated but somehow only you could still access it, how you then started receiving the strange notifications…
you're fully aware that it isn't the wisest decision to lay all your cards on the table like this, but as you glance up at them in between words and find them looking back at you so intently, as if they're hanging on to every single one of your words… it warms your heart and pushes you to tell them the whole truth.
there's a glimmer of recognition in morax's eyes as you tell him about your visit to liyue. he says nothing and lets you continue talking, but there's a solemn smile that tugs on his expression when you stutter on your words, the sadness of seeing liyue so broken evident in your tone.
you're actually talking to them.
they're actually able to hear you.
this used to be what your younger self wished for the most. you remember it well. the longing to be able to converse and interact with them, to experience teyvat in all its entirety. maybe if this whole thing happened then, you would have eagerly taken the mantle of the 'divine creator' without as much thought.
you're supposed to be all grown up now, but it seems like that yearning never truly left you. perhaps once you've passed a certain treshold, age is truly just that, a meaningless number that matters little, in the grand scheme of things.
by the time you finish, your throat is dry and the tea has gone cold. the four of you fall into silence, each of you with your own thoughts. you sigh and sip on the now-cold tea, silently waving your hand when morax notices the state of your drink and tries to stand, probably to brew you a fresh batch. he sits back obediently and regards you with a calm gaze.
"i understand now that this must be very confusing to you. we've burdened you without knowing. please accept our apologies."
you head shakes automatically and relief floods your veins, creating a small grin on your lips, "you didn't know. it's fine. so you… believe me? you don't think i'm crazy?"
"of course. this explains your hesitance and… aloofness."
"ahaha… sorry about that…"
"i'm sad that you don't remember the older times, but i believe you, [name]!" barbatos smiles, though it's not as bright as his previous ones.
"i... share the same sentiment," beelzebul fixes her gaze on you, "it appears there are some mysteries that need to be solved regarding this matter. but if i may be so insolent as to suggest, i think the matter of teyvat is more of a priority at this moment."
you understand what she meant by her words immediately, and a hopeless sigh left you.
"but i don't know what i'm supposed to do. do you really believe that i can save a whole world, when i've been living a normal life so far?" you raise your eyebrows at her, arms crossing loosely on the table as you lean forward onto it, "from my perspective at the moment, i'm powerless."
beel doesn't look at all convinced, but it was morax who speaks for her, his chin lightly resting on his other fingers which are curled underneath, as his index slowly taps onto the corner of his lips.
"if i may suggest a theory… perhaps you’ve just yet to regain back all of your powers upon setting your feet back into teyvat."
"but what if i don't have my powers anymore? or any powers whatsoever in the first place?"
"oh, but you certainly do. we're here in your abode, are we not?" he chuckles, eyes soft as his voice takes a nostalgic tone, "the sub-space creation was something you taught me a long time ago. this particular one was created by yourself. in fact, i've had the honor of visiting it quite a few times in the past, along with barbatos and a few others, to partake in various festivities hosted by yours truly…….. however, as i was saying, the sub-space needs to feed from the owner's power to continue to exist. so the fact that we're able to converse like this here…"
"aha! this realm itself is proof that you do have your powers!" barbatos exclaims, snapping his fingers in excitement and turning towards you as if waiting for your praise. across from him, beelzebul lightly pouts, and you have an inkling she's somehow upset that she's the only one who hasn't had the chance to meet you and be involved with whatever festivities morax talked about within this realm, a long time ago...
"i… i see. i didn't know that," you scratch your cheek and look down contemplatively at your crossed arms, "then… do you have any suggestions on how to… maybe regain my power? or see if it really is my power?"
"i believe getting reacquainted to teyvat itself should help. even i am not privy to the inner workings of your power, so i do not know much about it. but what i do know is that you're the one who initiates us as allogenes and you have a strong connection with teyvat, with it being your first ever creation."
you nod, knowing the implications behind his words and the pleading looks from the two sitting by your sides. they want you to visit teyvat. in the end, it all comes down to that.
"okay. i'll do it. mond, liyue, inazuma, sumeru, snezhnaya, natlan, fontaine - all seven of them, i'll go and hopefully we can figure out something."
suddenly, you blink and cast your gaze toward all three of them.
"by the way… where are the other four archons?"
a heavy silence blankets over the previously light atmosphere. another shiver travels up your spine upon seeing the solemn expressions of your beloved characters.
"[name]... though this is a regretful outcome, please understand that none of us wish for you to take the blame for it."
morax materializes a pouch sewn from some sort of intricate-looking cloth and unties the string keeping its contents from spilling, before letting them fall onto the table.
you can't help the horrified gasp that escapes your lips at the sight of four gnosis, each bearing different colors and yet all missing its luster.
green, red, and two shades of blue.
dendro, pyro, hydro and cryo.
your head spins.
"but," you barely manage to whisper; it feels like cotton is rapidly stuffing your lungs as you speak, "wh-what of the… their nations, their people-"
"i’m afraid…"
".... they’ve all been destroyed."
© genshrineimpact | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies
ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask or dm me!
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#sagau#venti#barbatos#zhongli#morax#rex lapis#beelzebul#raiden ei#universe abound#rin writes
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10 Ways to Say I Love You (young!Rick Sanchez/Reader) - Pt. 1
I have hit my follower goal!!! thank you all so much for reading my nonsense and giving me a follow. it’s literally always been a goal of mine to be one of those popular fanfic writers and idc if that’s silly.
Link to the inspiration for this ficlet.
AO3 Link
young!Rick Sanchez/f!Reader
3441 Words - SFW
CW for Explicit Language, Canon Compliant Violence, & Minor Character Death
One
Though the windows are only tinted by the dark blue of the outside, the fluorescent lights of the meeting room are plenty to wake you up. Your head is only being held up by your hands, which are only being held up by the heaviness of your head. Simple physics that plagues your existence.
Other members of your fleet chat away with one another, the gross smell of eggs filling your nostrils. It makes you internally gag; not enough energy to even fully commit to that. Once you have to get up, you’ll make your tiny Styrofoam cup of tea with the scorching hot water sitting readily in front of you. For now, you just welcome its warmth on your hands through the plastic.
Leave it to Rick Sanchez to convince you that going out to that stupid Interplanetary Club the night before a mandatory morning meeting was a good idea. The man was too charming for his own good. Definitely for yours.
Your stomach churns as you take meditative inhales through your nose and exhales through your mouth. If it really turns out to be worth it, you aren't going to decide until after this feeling subsides.
You lift your head as you sense someone's presence at your table. Speak of the devil.
His signature smirk adorns his face as he takes a seat diagonal to you. He looks fine. Great, even. You glare at him.
It only makes him laugh, a sound that tickles your ears but bangs against your skull. You hide your head in your crossed arms.
“Oh, come on. I didn’t get you that drunk, did I?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
You sigh deeply, your voice groggy as you start to speak. “You should know by now that my tolerance is shit compared to yours.” You shoot him another glare. “And clearly my refractory time, as well.”
“Ooh, talk dirty to me, baby,” he flirts, but you’re too tired to be bothered by it.
The night was mostly a blur of drugs and dancing and colorful drinks handed to you - which you drank without question. You trusted Rick in a sense. More like you trusted Birdperson, and they trusted Rick.
He was fighting the same cause you were. He was a bit brash, but it was a welcome change from the rest of the people on your team. You had gotten sick of the polite, forced niceties that came with sharing a living space with a hundred other aliens. Rick is a wild card, named a rogue. His motivations are unclear. But if there is one thing you really know about Rick, it’s that he knows how to party.
A lot of the things he came into the club with were incredibly rare and hard to find. Even if Rick didn’t have the greatest attendance record when it came to anything that didn’t include firing guns, you can’t imagine he has that much time on his hands to go hunting down illicit substances.
But he’s always there to take someone down when he’s needed.
“I’m surprised to even see you here. You usually skip these, don’t you?” You prop up on your elbow, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light. You take note of the two to-go cups in front of him. Earthly looking.
“Noticing when I’m gone, hm?” He lays it on thick, one lengthy hand wrapped around one of the cups.
You point at the free cup with a questioning look, curiosity officially piqued. He gives mock surprise.
“Oh, this? Ye-yeah, I may have made a pit-stop while I was deigning to show up.” He smiles, pushing it your way. “Two sugars, right?”
Your mouth falls open as the smell finally wafts your way; coffee. Your hands immediately wrap around its warmth, mouth falling open in awe as you look at him with wide eyes.
“Shut up!” you whisper. “Where the hell did you get this?” Another rare commodity around here. You had switched over to caffeinated green tea, but it just wasn’t the same. Especially during a hangover.
“I can’t divulge my sources.”
You smile at him while you take a sip. You relish in its heat and bitter aftertaste. “I’ll take it.”
You don’t think to ask how he knew your order.
--
Two
When you wake, your room is still covered in darkness. Your hand flies to the digital clock on your nightstand. 2:35AM
You flop back onto your bed with a sigh. Most nights were like this; you either struggled falling asleep or staying asleep - at your worst, both, spending your night counting the ceiling tiles.
You can hear the sound of hushed voices outside of your room and into the shared hallway of your fleet members. You didn’t function on a typical schedule most times. Most other solar systems didn’t even subscribe to time in the way of weeks, months, and years. The present is only the present. There’s a yesterday and a tomorrow, but time doesn’t really exist beyond our perception of it.
You think you prefer the daily trials of life with that mindset in clutch.
You eye your door longingly, silently wishing you had just made plans for tonight instead of turning in your bed for hours on end. You need to catch up on sleep, yeah. But trying your best to sleep whenever you can clearly isn't working for you.
There’s laughter and footsteps. Shushes followed by more demure giggling. The sound slowly fades out of your peripheral hearing, your eyes closing in defeat.
They snap open to the quiet, quick succession of knocks on your door. You furrow your brow as you flip the blankets off, making your way to the entrance while pulling your robe tight around your waist.
Your hand print scans beside the door with a blue light and a beep, the aluminum sliding open to reveal a somewhat disheveled Rick, dressed casually and leaning on the door frame.
Your eyes squint to adjust to the hallway lights. “Rick?” A glance to your right reveals the rest of the group has gone, leaving the two of you alone. “It’s two in the morning.” You cross your arms in indignance, trying your hardest to look annoyed.
He speaks in a whispered frenzy. “Yeaaah, yeah. Listen, listen. So, BP and I went to the cantina after hours to steal some of the good cereal ‘cause if I have to eat bran one more fucking time I’m gonna- gonna blow up this whole f-fucking station - and there were these other crew members trying to break into the main office to forge some shit. Get this: This chicks best friend slept with her boyfriend - like who gives a fuck, right? But they were gonna fake a mandatory transfer for this guy to get ‘em out of our station, so I helped, and now we’re gonna go stink bomb this chicks room while she’s out in exchange for whole milk for the fucking. Cereal! Do you want to come?”
You blink at him.
You could describe Rick as many things. Intimidating. Charismatic. Mysterious.
Upon getting to know him better: childish.
It was never unwelcome and was almost always charming. You could watch him 180 in a team meeting - from planning an assassination attempt to whispering flustering mnemonic devices in your ear for each of your crew members in the room.
You glance back at your messy bed, a sad reminder of what you know you’re missing. But yeah. You do want to go.
A sound passes your lips, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, shedding your robe and going for one of your sweatshirts instead. He whispers a ‘yesssss’ with a punch of his fist in the air. Your smile grows.
“Only if I can have the kind with the marshmallows.” you add.
He grins. “A girl after my own heart.”
--
Three
You barely had time to register it in the moment - an enemy’s gun pointed toward one of your own. Your finger twitching on the trigger, shooting the alien dead like second nature. When you angrily met the eyes of your teammate, leaving their station and ducking out from everyone's eyesight, you barely shot the offender down in time.
Rick wasn’t paying attention.
No, his back was turned. He was alert when you spoke to him, but not toward the fight at hand.
“Rick, what are you doing?” you yelled from across the room, your voice quiet among the lasers, pistols, and the burning of your ambush explosives.
“Don’t worry about me,” he replied, his eyes hard. He took off. You didn’t see him until long after the mission was over.
You catch him hanging low in the hallway by the cantina. Rage flares in your nostrils, and you shove him before he even knows you’re there.
He stumbles a bit to the side, shooting a crazed look at you with an accompanying ‘what the fuck?’
“What the fuck was that earlier? Abandoning a mission?”
He protectively covers where you pushed him with a hand, rolling his eyes but softening. “How about you worry about yourself, sweetheart.”
You scoff. “That fucking mosquito almost shot you, idiot.”
His lips turn down. An annoyed scowl you’re so used to seeing. “Right, my bad. Forgot to pick up a thank-you card.”
He presses the right buttons, your fingers fisting and stretching out anxiously by your side. The flicker of the fluorescent lights makes you nauseous. “Don’t be a dick,” you say dumbly.
He crosses his arms. “Be- because ambushing me and starting a fight was so fuckin’ polite of you.”
You sigh, ignoring him. Your eyes glance up and down the hallway to make sure no one can hear you, though you’re not sure why. “What were you doing?” you whisper, your true curiosity spilling.
His arms fall away, turning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deadpans.
Your anger turns way into disappointment, and suddenly he’s walking away from you. “Rick-”
“Hey.” His voice has a bite, annoyance or warning, you don’t know. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
It shuts you up, stops you dead in your tracks. You stand there and watch him walk away, wanting to blow your head off for a reason you can’t explain. Why did he piss you off so much? Why did you act so stupid? If you were trying to express concern for him, which you told yourself you were, you did a shit job at showing it.
You awkwardly nod at the others hanging around down the hall as you pass them on your way back to the cantina.
--
Four
Your tray of boring cafeteria food sits untouched and cold to your left. You don’t have much of an appetite these days.
Your fingers are occupied with spinning the tiny screws that hold the fluid component sturdy to its top. You’ve never thought you had overly manly hands until this moment. Your fingers are stubby and huge and tinted red from being stabbed by the screws flipping out of their sockets from the pressure.
You aren’t particularly gifted with in-field tech, but you’re trying to improve. Which is why you repeatedly refused the help of your friends when you complained to them about the gun malfunctioning. You should learn these things in case of an emergency. You should be self-sustaining.
The screw slips back out of the socket and you curse as it scratches your cuticle, slamming your fist on the table - maybe a little too hard. You reel in your frustration in hopes nobody heard it and is looking at you like you’re crazy from past your peripherals.
You eye your abandoned tray with exhaustion, reaching for your water. Your hands burn as they scrape against the plastic cap.
He appears then, just to the left of you, body leaning cooly against the table. The look in his eyes spells trouble to you, his brow raised in questioning. You take a long sip of your water while Rick’s eyes meet yours, glance down to the pile of hardware in front of you, and look up at you again.
You set the cup down, willing yourself to keep his eye contact though your body tells you to break it. “What?” You finally ask.
He nods toward the pile. “Looked like you were having some trouble.”
His tone isn’t exactly mocking, but given the last conversation you’d had with each other, there was no telling if he only came over here to get back at you for poking the bear, or if he was actually trying to be helpful. He’s too nonchalant; you can never quite get a proper read on him.
“No trouble,” you say in as neutral a tone as you can, “I’m figuring it out.” That sounded more sure in your head.
“I could take a look at it,” he offers, but your stubbornness wins out.
“I’ve got it handled, Sanchez.” Well, that was a little too aggressive.
The longer he stares at you, the more you shrink under his gaze. He looks away for a moment, working his jaw in what you can tell is annoyance, before he’s moving into your personal space. He leans onto both his elbows propped on the tabletop, just close enough that you instinctually scoot back. He looks up at you, now.
Suddenly, your mind goes blank.
“Come on. Let me fix it.”
The close proximity leaves you speechless. Your heart picks up speed. Your stomach churns.
It’s just sour enough that you immediately recognize the feeling.
You simply nod, eyes dancing off his face, scared that your voice will fail you if you speak.
He only flashes you a small grin, one that makes you go even stupider, before stealing your equipment in an armful and sitting next to you. He gets to work right away. When he undoes the handiwork you had put in, you don’t even question it. You knew Rick was a scientist; an engineer. He was responsible for a lot of the equipment the fleet used - explosives, armor enhancements, ammo. And you definitely weren’t going to be touching that gun again until it was fixed lest God smite you.
You sit with silence between you, your eyes not leaving his hands at work for even a moment until he’s finished. Your gun, somehow, works better than it had when you first received it years ago.
--
Five
You squeeze your eyes shut tight, counting each beat of your heart as you try to slow your breathing. You calculate it’s racing somewhere past 150, and if you’re going to get out of this alive, you need to not have a panic attack.
Isn’t your body supposed to function on auto-pilot in times of distress? You’ve been in plenty of fights. Your hands, your arms, your chest; your body branded the kind of scars you only get from years in the force. On the front lines, at that. You’ve been shot, burned, stabbed, everything short of torture.
So why is now the time that your body decides it can’t move?
The mission was supposed to be routine. You were picking up a supply drop with one other team member, Doss. You were often paired together because of your particularly complimenting skill sets and fighting styles. You didn’t mind marching into battle with melee weapons, swinging batons and punching your way through any situation you encountered.
Doss, though? He was a trained recon sniper. He stayed back to watch your six. You would scout out locations together, catch enemies when they weren’t looking, steal supplies, and get the fuck out without so much as a scratch on your knuckles.
Not today.
Food rations were getting low, so that was your number one priority. Medical supplies came next; as much as you can carry on your back. You had walkie’d back to your teammate from the inside after filling your packs to no response. You knew what protocol told you to do from here; hold your position and wait for backup. But you were an idiot who didn’t follow protocol.
You worried on your lips when you tried to make contact again. Static. Nothing.
Doss was on the outskirts of the building, half dilapidated and abandoned. You hadn’t been to this location before, but you were assured of its neutrality and safety.
It was uncertain if it was a planned ambush. If you were in some group's territory and didn’t know it. It certainly wasn’t the Federation. They had particular styles that gave them away.
You made your way through the halls back to the front entrance, moving slowly. You abandoned one pack, too much to carry on you while trying to be inconspicuous. You heard the voices, saw shadows as you ducked behind a wall. How many were there? Six, seven, maybe… There could be more outside, out of range for you to hear.
Still no sign of Doss.
You can feel the tears pricking at your eyes, burning in a humiliation you can’t explain. You should have stuck together. You didn’t want to admit it.
They’re filing in slowly, now, and you can hear the voices getting closer to you as you skirt down the hall and quietly shut a door behind you, a shaking hand dialing on your walkie.
“Supply team seven to base, please respond.” You keep your voice low, though it shakes with the sheer effort it’s taking you to not fucking cry.
No response.
There was no way you could fight the lot of them. You didn’t come prepared with a firing weapon. Your power fist wouldn’t help you if you got shot.
You try again with no response. Your walkie was still working properly, no signs of malfunction. Who the fuck is manning the radio servers?
You squeeze your eyes as they burn, wiping your cheeks as you try to come to your current reality. You do the first thing you can think of. What were the chances he even kept his walkie on him?
You dial Rick’s number and extension.
You take a shaking breath, pressing down to talk. “Rick, I swear to fucking God, please have your walkie on you right now.”
The static crackles for a moment, and you silently count your blessings before the rough melody of his voice breaks through the tiny speaker.
“What is it?”
You laugh quietly, hysterically, reminding yourself to add Rick’s existence to your list of blessings. “There was some kind of ambush. Or we aren’t where we’re supposed to be. I don’t fucking know.” Your voice wobbles. “Doss is-” a hiccup, “he isn’t responding, Rick, I think he… There’s so many of them. I don’t- I don’t have anything, I-” Word vomit that you can’t stop, tears now freely flowing down your face.
His voice stops you. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”
You’re hyperventilating just a little, and the first wave of relief washes over you. You don’t bother responding.
You stay vigilant, furiously wiping your tears away as you wait for him, for some signal that you’re going to make it out of this alive. Raiders and marauders were all over the place these days; you weren’t the only side getting antsy against the Federation. As it turns out, the void of space doesn’t consider the enemy of it's enemy to be it's friend. Unknowns are always enemies.
When Rick shows up, it’s without grandeur. He grabs you to leave out the front door, and your eyes gloss over the wasted aliens that he took out before he found you cornered away. He took them all out himself, it looks like. You don’t know how. A single human of all things taking out a whole swarm of raiders? You would be criticizing his work ethic in any other circumstance, but only now does your body fall into autopilot. Blood and guts all over the floor, now on your shoes as you scrape them against the hard concrete outside.
You see him, Doss, or at least, what’s left of him. Face down, by the looks of it, brains and blood splattered against the ground in a sight that would normally make you queasy, but you don’t feel anything.
They sniped the sniper. It probably happened so fast that it was relatively painless. He didn’t suffer. You say it to yourself over and over again. He didn’t suffer. He didn’t suffer.
You leave the planet relatively unscathed, though Rick bears the blood splatter of your enemies, already fading into the worn leather of his duster.
He says nothing to you, but you feel his eyes on you the whole way home.
#rick sanchez#rick sanchez x reader#rick sanchez fanfic#young!rick sanchez#young!rick sanchez x reader#rick and morty fanfic#mesa writes
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It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over
So, this is a bit different from what I usually write, and I'm not 100% thrilled w how it turned out, but there were enough decent parts that I figured I'd share it with y'all and let you be the judge of that? Anyway, the next one will probably be smth a lot more lighthearted, so look forward to that
Summary- After a long time of being apart, you and Tom reunite, but what should have been a pleasant evening turns into a fight when Tom's exhaustion and frustration causes his personal demons to make an appearance. Very loosely tied to "All or Nothing at All."
TW- Arguing, references to and a very brief instance of abuse. Hurt/comfort, light angst.
It was the middle of October and Tom and Y/N had been married for about six months. As an A-list actor and up-and-coming production designer, respectively, they both had very full, often differing schedules. But though one or the other of them could be in another state or country for weeks at a time, when the both of them were back at the Colorado house, the two of them had begun to develop an agreeable routine. The current moment was such a time that they would both be in town for a couple of weeks.
Y/N, who usually returned home earlier than Tom, got the house to herself for a couple of days. Although she enjoyed the peace, often with some jazz records, a book, and/or a cup of tea, she also looked forward to when he got home. Whoever was the first one home would put dinner together, so, in addition to decompressing with her records and reading, Y/N had done some cooking.
The dishes sat in the oven where they would remain ready to eat until Tom arrived. The autumnal weather that evening was also ideal, and in addition to having several of the house windows open, Y/N envisioned her and Tom sitting on the back patio together afterwards, enjoying the yellow birch trees, the sway of the grass fields, and the distant mountains that could be seen through the clear air.
The familiar notification chimed on the security system, signaling that Tom had just entered through the home’s gates. Reaching a stopping point in her book, Y/N rose from her seat in one of the living room’s cognac-colored armchairs and adjusted her hair. It had been almost a month since they’d seen each other face-to-face, the longest they’d been apart since being married, and the excitement she felt was on-par with when they had first dated. She wanted to look perfect and for everything in the house to be perfect, and she would have to restrain herself from tackling him as soon as he came in the door.
After his car had traveled the winding path to the garage, Y/N finally heard footsteps on the porch and the creak of the front door. Jogging across the front hallway to meet him, she threw her arms around him before he had a chance to drop his bags.
“It’s been a minute,” she murmured, standing on her toes to reach the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Pressing her face to it, she grinned, inhaling his scent. She felt his arms circle her midsection after he managed to set his luggage down, and he gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he sighed, extricating himself from her hold and heading toward the kitchen. A bit disoriented by his lackluster greeting, but figuring he was tired from his trip, she followed.
Removing the baseball cap he wore and tossing it onto the wood countertop, he leaned against the kitchen island on his elbows and rested his head in his hands. Y/N lingered in the entryway, eyebrows furrowed, but maintaining her smile.
“How was your flight?”
“It was fine.” He did not elaborate, and instead turned to rummage through a couple of the kitchen cabinets.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I just have a headache.” His tone was flat as he threw open the kitchen medicine cabinet and the cabinet of cups and glasses with a surprising amount of force, nearly slamming them shut after he retrieved the small plastic bottle of painkillers and a water glass. Y/N flinched, crossing into the room and standing across from Tom at the island.
“Are you sure?” she pressed, cocking her head to the side and fixing him with an intense, concerned stare.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he responded tartly, kneading his forehead.
"Dinner's in the oven,” Y/N changed the subject, hoping this information would enthuse him.
“I’m not hungry right now,” he said without looking at her, and she began to sense that something was really wrong.
“Okay, well, if you want any later, I can fix you a plate,” she murmured.
“Okay.” He paused, still leaning against the counter, looking out the window into the backyard instead of at her. “Thanks.”
“So, tell me about the negotiations; how did it go? Did you settle on a contract?” she referenced his recent efforts to get cast in an upcoming movie.
“If you really wanna know, it ended up being a complete waste of time. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” She disregarded his increasingly hostile tone.
“I didn’t get the part, what do you think happened?” he snapped, his voice rising in volume. His jaw clenched as she rounded the island until she stood beside and slightly behind him.
“Tom, I’m sorry. I know that was really important to you.”
“No, you don’t know, you have no idea. After all this time, it’s still like nobody takes me seriously, as a serious actor. I’m just so tired of…”
She leaned in closer. “-Hey, look at me. It’s their loss.”
“...And then, the second I walk in the door you’re, like, interrogating me-”
Y/N reached for his glass of water and placed a hand on his shoulder blade. “-Why don’t we just sit on the patio, and…”
“I… just, you know what, just leave me alone, okay? Damn it!”
Tom roughly shrugged Y/N’s hand off of his back as he turned to leave the room, accidentally elbowing her hard in the process. Her other arm, shooting out to catch herself as she flew back, knocked the glass of water from the counter to the floor, where it shattered.
“Oh, God…” he muttered, the heels of his hands pressed to his forehead as he shook his head. Immediately, his anger dissipated, replaced with horror. It was a few seconds before he dared to meet Y/N’s gaze. She stood completely motionless, her face drained of color. “Fuck, Y/N, that got out of hand. I am so sorry…” He took a step toward her and reached for her, and she recoiled.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried, as tears spilled from her eyes, although a moment later she collapsed into his chest, sobbing.
As he held her and stroked her hair, tears welled up in Tom’s own throat. He knew he would never forget the frightened way Y/N had looked at him; it made him feel physically ill. No matter how much he tried, all his life, to repress the part of him that was like his father, it had surfaced to hurt an undeserving person, the person he’d least wanted to hurt in the world. He wanted to disappear; to walk into the ocean, step in front of a car, or at least for her to hit him back or something; do anything except to just stand there and cry.
“You said… that in our house… there would be no hitting or yelling,” she sobbed into his sweater. “You promised. You said that you never wanted to be anyt-thing like your dad and that the... all of that would end w-with us.”
They sank down to a spot on the floor, Y/N still cradled in Tom’s arms, away from the spilled water and glass. In a soft voice, he replied:
“I did. I’m so sorry. I did promise you that. Every time I do something he would have done or say something he would have said it makes me sick. I’m not proud of it. At all. All I’ve ever wanted to do is protect you and make you feel safe, and instead I’ve fucked up so bad… and now you’ll always be afraid of me…” Tom fell silent and closed his eyes as he choked up.
He was shocked when he felt Y/N cup one side of his face with her hand, brushing her lips against the other.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over as she shifted into a crouched position between his legs, grasping his face between both her hands. She appeared to be studying him.
“Hey, I’m not giving up on you just yet. You’re not getting away that easy,” she murmured, with the faintest of smirks. She took his hands, gazing thoughtfully down at them. “You are not your father. Even though you still have things to work through, you’re already a better man than he ever was. Because your father was never sorry, was he? He never tried, he never even wanted to try to be different.”
“I will get this under control; I won't lose you,” Tom said decisively. “He is not going to define who I am.”
“I know, we don’t run away from our problems now, right?” Y/N mused, recalling one of their past conversations.
“I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll take classes, read books- I’ll take up meditation or- or mindfulness…” Y/N chuckled quietly and nodded, wiping her reddened eyes with her sleeve as he continued. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me, or if I even deserve it-”
She cut him off with a delicate kiss. When they broke apart, he stared at her, bewildered, and she shrugged. “I forgive you. I’m still upset right now, but I forgive you. And I’m sorry for trying to push you to talk when you weren’t ready. But we will start again tomorrow morning, and we will go on.”
As Tom and Y/N picked up the broken pieces of glass together and soaked up the water, the birds sang through the open living room windows. The sun fell lower in the sky, its beams pervading the whole kitchen and covering its occupants in gold. After the mess had been cleaned, Y/N stepped into the bathroom to wash her face and collect her thoughts. When she emerged, Tom was in the still in the kitchen, but he held a mug of tea in each hand.
“How about we start again right now?” he suggested, gesturing to the back door that led to the patio. One could tell by looking at the sky that a gorgeous sunset was approaching.
She walked up to him wordlessly, taking one of the mugs from him and glancing at the lovely scene beyond the door. “Okay,” she murmured, and his uncertain expression transformed into one of relief.
They walked, an arm around each other, out to the half-moon arrangement of Adirondack chairs, squinting against the sunlight. Tom noted how Y/N seemed to glow golden in its path and he knew that he had to make this work.
#tom cruise#one shot#creative writing#fanfic#tom cruise fic#tom cruise imagine#tom cruise x female reader#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise angst#angst#light angst#self insert#reader insert#x reader#tw anger issues#tw angst#tw abuse
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Day 11 - Fainting
I was waffling on what to do for this day until I took not quite enough Nyquil and just let my mind wander for a bit lmao so have something cute
Ping list: @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain
TWs: another thing where kissing happens and a guy's tits are out but nothing happens, sex gets referenced with a flirty suggestion but its pretty pg-13 still, blood, vampire feeding, alcohol mention, needle mention, fainting
Mariano had decided to go out that Friday. He didn't have work in the morning for once, and Bastian had been getting onto him about being a seventy-year-old in a thirty-three-year-old's body. He'd gone to a place he'd heard good things about--it was loud, and the lights were too much.
The drinks were nice though, and the huge, ruby-horned, golden-eyed bartender was handsome and charming. Maybe he would make this a regular thing. He'd even met a sweet vampire. The blond twink had body glitter on, likely from head to toe, and her green eyes lit up when he'd responded to her flirting.
Brian, her name was. She'd let him text a selfie with her to Bastian, and he'd let her send one of them to her boyfriends. She'd also let him pay for the taxi back to her place.
It was so cozy. He took in the restored, renewed antique cellos and violins hung up on the walls, with flowers and animals carved delicately into the outer layers of the wood and varnished over with love. He saw the worn leather jacket that hung near the doorway, underneath a motorcycle helmet. He saw crutches, and what had to be a backup wheelchair, kept near the couch in a corner.
She'd led him to a bedroom, furnished with string lights and tapestries over the walls and a fluffy bedspread on the queen-sized bed. A teal television sat on a dresser, the perfect height for movie nights. And now her hands cupped Mariano's face as he knelt above her, propped up on his elbows and knees.
Their lips pressed together, hers chilled but tasting like strawberries. It lingered on his own lips when they pulled apart. He'd have to ask her what brand the lip gloss was. Cute, freckled cheeks were flushed. Her sharp indicator teeth were bright in the dim, warm light when she beamed up at him.
"God--don't take this the wrong way, you smell so good right now." Brian said, pulling Mariano down for another kiss. "Like it's not a cologne, and you don't smell afraid. Do you have magic or something?"
"I do." Mariano said, one hand slipping up under Brian's head, his fingers threading into her hair. "It's pretty strong though, it might be off-putting."
"Can I taste?" One of Brian's hands dropped to his neck, and Mariano felt his pulse more strongly. "If it's not my cup of tea, I can always get a different taste of you." Her smile shifted into something more flirtatious. "I'm really good with my mouth."
Mariano laughed, kissing her again, soft and sweet. "That sounds good to me."
Brian brightened up, wiggling to sit up more against the head of the bed. "Okay! Turn around, shirt off if you want. Just lean against me." She tapped his shoulders, looking him over appreciatively. "You don't gotta worry about crushing me either."
"Alright, alright." Mariano said, raising up onto his knees to tug his shirt and binder off over his head. Brian's eyes lit up when she saw him, hands reaching to feel up his sides. He lowered himself down, shifting so that his shoulders met Brian's chest. Cool fingers drifted over his temples and neck, brushing his hair aside. "You don't have to be gentle."
"I think I'll be gentle anyway." Brian whispered, cold lips ghosting over his skin again. Mariano couldn't help the shudder that raced through him. He let out a sigh when Brian opened her mouth and then opened it wider.
He felt the brush of two thin teeth as they were brought forward. One of Brian's arms looped around his front, hand coming to rest affectionately on his cheek. Not a moment later, two sparks of pain erupted from his neck.
Mariano hummed, eyes fluttering closed as Brian's fangs sunk deeper, slow and steady. She'd obviously been doing this for a while. The moment her teeth had pierced the artery, she withdrew and locked her mouth around the wound.
His head started to spin as Brian's thumb began to trace along his cheekbone. She hummed against him, slender hand starting to support his head more and more. Static began to fill Mariano's ears. The soft noises that Brian made started to fade. The warm lighting started to dim. The room began to spin.
The world dropped away and Mariano fell.
"Hey. Open your eyes for me." Brian's voice cut through everything. It was low and steady, and Mariano realized that he wasn't leaning against the sweet vampire anymore. He was lying down and his feet were propped up on some pillows. "Mariano?"
He groaned, managing to open his eyes as Brian's fingers slid through his hair. "I'm...I'm awake." He mumbled, meeting Brian's eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hip pressed against his side.
"Good! You had me worried. You fainted, but I didnt take much--do shots give you trouble or something?"
Mariano laughed, quiet and warm. "No, no, needles are fine. I don't mind them." He reached to take her hand, squeezing it when she threaded their fingers together. "Heard it can just happen sometimes, though."
Brian laughed in return, nodding. "Guess it was just a random spell then, huh?" She reached to slide her fingers through his hair, pulling a quiet, relieved sound from him. "Well, you're not in a state to make out or anything now, so how's a movie sound? I can make popcorn, get you a soda. You can stay the night too, if you want."
Mariano brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "That...that all sounds very nice, yes."
Brian stood, kissing his temple before fluttering out of the room. "I'll be right back then, 'kay? Text your boyfriend, and I'll let Elliot know he's evicted for the night." A quick text to Bastian updating him on the plan was all he had to do, and then he relaxed as the sounds of playful arguing in the kitchen drifted in.
#whump#ailesswhumptober2023#ailesswhumptoberday11#Day 11#Vampire whump#what if this storm ends#Mage of violence#Blood#Fainting#suggestive dialogue#vasovagal syncope#Needle mention#alcohol mention#vampires#Guess who hasn't forgotten about the boyfriends#They've just been on vacation dw c:
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As Fate Would Have It
Patrochilles | E | Omegaverse | Ch. 9
Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning
The morning light blinds him when Patroclus opens his eyes. It’s pale, reflecting off the snow that still covers the ground beyond the cave. It’s a clear and bright day, the snowfall finally having stopped, but the wind that whistles through the trees and rocks of this part of the forest makes Patroclus shiver. He burrows deeper beneath the covers; they’re warm with the heat of Patroclus’ body, and that of Achilles’, and ripe with his scent.
Achilles himself is nowhere to be found under the covers beside him.
Patroclus pushes himself up on an elbow with a groan. His head is heavy and feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, like it usually is after a night of heavy drinking, though Patroclus has not had a drop of wine to drink. He rubs a palm over his face, trying to shake off that lingering fogginess, to wake himself up.
“Patroclus, divine son of Menoitius; supreme in might, skilled at arms beyond all others, blessed by the gods…. Good morning.”
Achilles is kneeling across the fire from him, on a patch of furs he has dragged from the bed. He is sitting on his heels, his back arrow straight and his expression regal, cold and thoroughly unreadable. A more dissimilar image to the pleading mess that had thrown himself at Patroclus the previous night he couldn’t have presented.
“Good… morning,” Patroclus replies hoarsely. He sits up on the bed and accepts the cup of steaming tea Achilles offers him.
“Drink this. It will help with the…" His mouth twists a little and he pauses, visibly struggling for words. "It will help,” he says at last.
Patroclus brings it to his lips; it’s just short of being scalding, but Patroclus is so parched that he doesn’t even mind. It is strong and bitter but it’s soothing, and the honey that Achilles has used to sweeten it makes it easier on the tongue. Sage, rosemary and lemon balm, and some kind of mushroom that Patroclus can’t quite identify. A few sips of it are enough to clear his mind, ease some of the heaviness of his limbs. Patroclus downs almost half of it with a few gulps, with Achilles as his silent and reticent spectator.
It is only after he has finished the tea that Patroclus realises that he’s still stark naked beneath the blankets; he covers himself hastily, searching for his tunic in the furs and drawing it over his head.
“Thank you for the tea,” he mumbles when he is somewhat decent, giving Achilles back the cup.
“It was an honour to prepare it for you, illustrious son of Menoitius," Achilles says, accepting the cup with both hands. He is sitting so very stiffly, and his words are stiffer still. “It gladdens me that it has been to your liking.”
“Yes… alright,” Patroclus mumbles, embarrassed, and rubs at the crick in the back of his neck.
In the months they’ve spent on Pelion, Achilles has slowly but steadily stopped addressing him like he used to in the palace, finally becoming a little more cordial and relaxed around him instead. Patroclus has never told him, but he secretly loves that side of him; those formal addresses always seemed so out of place no matter when or where Achilles chose to make them, and they also made him more than a little nervous, leaving him wondering how he should respond; now, accompanied by Achilles’ impassive expression and unblinking gaze, Patroclus feels even more uneasy.
Achilles takes in a long, slow breath, his eerie eyes never shifting from Patroclus’ face.
“You should not have come last night,” he says.
Read the rest on AO3
#patrochilles#achilles#patroclus#tsoa#the song of achilles#hades game#finally remembered to do a proper promo yay me#still haven't figured out what sort of graphic i could use as a banner for this fic though... and i really want one....#if anyone has an idea or suggestion feel free to lmk 🙇♀️
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