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kittensartswriting · 1 year

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Find The Word Tag

Thank you for tagging me, @dotr-rose-love! I'm sorry it was ages ago :') I got tagged two times with little, garden, dream, car and why and then world, space, heart and lose. I didn't have car (which is not that surprising as it's set in a world where there is no cars).

I'll tag @aohendo @kainablue @mariahwritesstuff @faelanvance with words green, no, word and night.

little

Valeri carefully pulled each layer of clothing to reveal his side. Agrippa winced and closed her eyes. Then she slowly re-opened them and seemed to force herself to look at the wound. "Rinse it with water. Do not touch it. Then press some bandages on it and wrap the rest tightly around my torso." He spoke on a low voice to cause as little tension on his side as possible. "What about the bullet?" Agrippa asked, her voice shaking. "You let it stay there. Right now it's blocking the wound and keeping my blood inside me. I will die out of blood loss much quicker than out of infection or lead poisoning, so keeping my blood inside me is the priority here."

garden

Fiolew looked carefully as the soldier opened the door for a footman. A footman's suit might work here. The Spring Palace must have loaned additional people to their own staff tonight, so the guards certainly wouldn't recognize every footman. He would need to get the right kind of wig and their footman's jacket from somewhere. He already had an idea how to acquire them. He could make this work. With a self-satisfied smile he straightened up from leaning on the railing. It was already pitch black outside, which was perfectly fine with him. He quickly glanced around before slipping into the shadows of the garden.

dream

"Where did you get the ring, captain?" The man spoke in a soft voice under which cold rage was brewing. Valeri forced himself to look up. The man's face was right in from of him. His heart skipped a beat. It must have been a dream. "Father?" he breathed in Cerfi. For a brief moment he could have sworn he was looking at his father, but after blinking Valeri recognized the face. He had barely changed at all. That long face with sharp features and those deep set eyes were exactly as Valeri remembered. Though his hair was graying and shorter, the hairline had receded a bit and some new wrinkles had appeared on his face. "Ignatus?"

why

"I told them you're my guard", Agrippa whispered. Valeri raisen an eyebrow. "Why?" "I didn't dare go there alone." He didn't blame her. The oracles sent cold shivers down his spine. "So now I have to act like your personal guard?" "Well you were before, right?" Agrippa grinned, but the concerned wrinkle between her brows didn't disappear. "I can always fire you, if you want." "I just got a new job and you're already firing me?"

world

"Along the Vuolhú River the cities of the dead are always on the northern side of it", Agrippa said. She leaned forward, animated as she spoke. "Vuolhú is the gate between the worlds of the living and the dead and north is the land of the dead." "Isn't then most of Dir'ahin land of the dead?" Valeri asked. "No." The levity had disappeared from Ávra's voice. "The land of the living is only occupied by the enemy." She raised her eyes at Valeri. She was smiling, but there was fire in her eyes that Valeri knew all too well. "For now."

space

At the campus Fearathos took the route to the history department. It was in one of the oldest building of the university, from the times of Amarian Empire. The style then had strong Amarian influence. Ornamental pilars and straight columns. Faerathos had only been there once, but remembered well the grandiose entrance with a row of massive pilars behind which large entrances led to the central hall. In the middle of it was a shallow rectangular pool the same size as the hole in the roof. The hole let in a large beam of sun that moved through the day and filled the space with sun light.

heart

The general's expression was perfectly stale, impossible to read. "That's not true -" "No! Don't you dare tell me another lie!" "Agrippa dear..." "Silence!" Her hair and skin flamed. She radiated white blinding flames. The heath burned hot on Valeri's face and he backed away as terror gripped his heart. The flames were gone as quick as they appeared. Only some embers were left smouldering in her clothing.

lose

"'Pretty good'?" Marcus gave a laugh. "She has never lost a single duel. I'm pretty sure I'd lose to her." "You?" Faerathos asked with disbelief. "You're the best swordsman in the Empire, if not the world. Everyone thinks so." "Sure, but I'm not a duelist. I can duel of course, but I'm much more intimately familiar with techniques more useful in a battlefield than a duel. She on the other hand is expert on duel techniques. I actually saw her duel in a party. She was toying with the man. It was a performance to her, but it was clear that he would have been dead, if she'd wanted him dead." "There was a duel in a party? I don't remember that." "Unsurprising. But yes there was. Easily the best party I have ever attended. I think some foolish lord had caught his wife on the arms of Lady Moireau, or something." He chuckled. "I would like to duel with her. No one has beaten me since..." His voice trailed off and a shadows fell over his face. He didn't need to finish the sentence, Faerathos knew he was talking about father.

#thanks to maria i realised i forgot to edit valeri's name into the first excerpt #so now it's there #but then i also noticed that i had used the word radiates in two consequent sentences in the excerpt 'heart' which very much annoyed me #so i edited it too #marcus' idea of mlm/wlw solidarity: a duel #tagged #tag game #writeblr #my writing #excerpt #bcc #bcc excerpt

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hornyf0ckers · 2 years

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Hey~ I love your Not Your Typical Background Character AU! It's a super refreshing concept to read and I'll always be looking forward to more content. In that AU, what if GN!reader tried manipulating Lucifer into making a pact with them first? Let's say they're an excellent actor and skilled in creating lots of mistrust and strain in the brothers' and MC's relationships while remaining completely innocent. They're also outstanding in wearing everyone down by crafting crises that immediately rule them out as a suspect. By then, Lucifer would be too exhausted and overwhelmed while being wary of MC since she's rapidly making pacts with his brothers to notice that GN!reader has been able to weaken their family ties significantly. Then GN!reader, in private, springs it onto him that they know about Belphie in the Attic and bargains to help restore his family ties in exchange for a pact. (1/2 sorry for the long ass ask I really want to hear your headcanons!!)

What if reader tries to manipulate Lucifer into making a pact with them before MC does?

You are quite skilled manipulateling...but is it good enough?...

Pronouns: you/they

When we are talking about manipulation, we mean out of the world kind of manipulation

You would have to know 100% of what you are doing to be able to manipulate Lucifer

And being the highly intelligent exchange human you are, you know exactly what you are doing

You spread rumors about MC having bad intentions to other students which caused great commotion and on occasion you made indirectly assumptions about MC and their pacts.

At first Lucifer didn't listen but it slowly got to him, she was just making to many pacts with his brothers at a small amount of time

The other became wary of MC too, atleast the once who aren't in a pact with her yet

One day when Lucifer was extremely stressed you decided to take your chances

You walked in and revealed everything, everything you knew, everything you could to do fix everything and the consequences if he didn't make a pact with you

You could see how tense lucifer's face was

If stares could kill you would be suffering the most crucial pain right now

Ofcourse he turned into his demon form but you stopped him by revealing the message that was about to be send to everyone

He knew this would cause a commotion

Not only to his brother but also to Lord Diavolo, after all he went against him by locking Belphie in the attic

He had no other choice

His anger in this moment could swallow the entire Devildom

But he agreed

He made a pact with you and you never mentioned this evening ever again

As you promised you kept your word and helped strengthen the family ties

You also promised to never use the pact under one condition: protection. And since it's now a deal you really can't use his pact

Lucifer would never be the same

How could he not have sensed the danger in you?

How could he not have seen the way you manipulated everyone

He would he upset with himself, blaming himself for the situation

If he didn't let you stay in the Devildom in the first place none of this would have happened

His pride took a good hit that evening

Ever since you did what you did he doesn't feel anything but absolute hatred towards you

He can't hurt you because of the pact but he will make sure to make your life harder in the Devildom (giving you extra work, higher expectations on grades, etc)

You can feel his wrath radiating towards you once you two are alone together

Everytime you look in his eyes you see nothing but hatred and disgust

But even a skilled manipulate is not 100% perfect

You forgot something, something very important, or should I say someone?

Lord Diavolo noticed Lucifer's change in behavior and with the help of Barbatos they knew exactly who caused it

Are you ready for what's coming your way?

A//N: This is indeed an intressting concept which I may write more detailed in the future. I hope it's how you wanted it since some parts were hard for me to understand.

#obey me #obey me quotes #obey me scenarios #obey me theory #obeyme x reader #anime #obey me luke #obey me luficer #obey me headcanons #dark obey me #obey me angst #obey me lucifer x reader

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marvelouslytrekking · 3 years

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The Code

Pairing: Din Djarin/gn!reader Summary: Mando leaves specific instructions not to leave the ship while he is out on a hunt. Disobey those instructions leads to very terrible consequences - will Mando make it back in time? Word Count: 3232 Warning: Mention of blood, pain, knife, torture, canon-typical violence A/N: I decided to see if the Whumptober prompts inspired anything and here this is.... days 1, 2, & 3 all in one! The specific prompts used were: 1: Bound 2: Gagged 3: “Who did this to you” I hope y'all enjoy! Also don’t forget Feedback Feeds my Soul

Main Masterlist | Other Din fics

You knew that you should have listened to him, he told you not to leave the ship but you wanted to find something other than the terrible rations to eat. You thought that you would be fine. You made sure that the kid was secure in the ship, and you made sure that the ship was in your line of sight, you’d be able to get back to it if you needed.

Everything had been going well, you had found some fruit that was growing and from what you could tell, was edible. You had begun picking the fruit, excited to see what all you could make with what you were finding.

You heard a branch snap, but it wasn’t from your own feet. You scanned the area, surely it was just an animal but you suddenly got a sick feeling in your gut, and knew you needed to get back to the ship. You would just need to engage ground security protocols once you were onboard and both you and the child would be safe.

You had turned to head back to the ship, but it was too late. You saw that they were closer than you, there was no way for you to make it onboard before they did. You didn’t even have to think, the decision had been an easy one, you used the remote controls to engage the protocols, locking the child in the ship when the hunters wouldn’t be able to get to him. It would buy him time until Mando could get back and kill them off.

You then tried to hunker down, they hadn’t seen you yet and you had hoped that it would stay that way. It had bought you some time. You watched from the foliage as they tried to get in the ship to no avail. You felt relief knowing the child was safe, though that relief was only short lived as you suddenly heard movement behind you.

You whipped around quickly, trying to get a blaster shot off but he was faster than you expected and managed to dodge the shot, which just meant that you had signaled the others to your location. You were luckily fast enough to rip your arm panel with the controls for the ship off your arm and shoot that. You got one good step on it too before a blaster shot hit your thigh.

You crumbled to the ground from the pain of the close range shot, you desperately tried to focus on getting out of the situation or fighting your way out of the 5 men, but before you could find your footing again, the man’s foot was on your shoulder, painfully pressing it into the ground. You still tried to get a shot off at him, but he was easily able to pry your blaster from your hand.

“He sure picked a feisty one.” The hunter chucked before grabbing you by the shoulder and pulling you upright. You were surrounded by 2 other men before you were fully upright, one on each side of you, dragging you back towards the ship.

“She destroyed her controls.” The first man told the others, lifting the destroyed band.

“That’s fine, her biometrics should open the ship using the panel at the door.” Another pointed out. You were never more thankful for how paranoid Mando was, while your biometrics were required to get to the controls, to undo something like ground protocols, or really anything, a 6 digit code was also needed. And only you knew your code.

You probably should have let them figure that out themselves but you couldn’t help but laugh at them.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” He growled.

“Oh, just that even with a big ass head, you have a tiny fucking brain.” You chuckled. Your insult only earned you two fingers pushing into the wound on your leg, making you cry out.

“Not laughing now.” He smirked, happy with his work. He didn’t waste his time forcing you to the panel, pressing your hand to the reader. You could feel how smug he was when the light went green. There was a moment of anticipation, then the code boxes popped up and you felt the anger and annoyance that he felt realizing what had happened.

You felt the blaster pressed into the back of your head as he took a step away from you. “Open that door right now or I will shoot you.”

“If you kill me you’ll never get in.” You pointed out. You knew that the next few hours or days, depending on how long Mando took, wasn’t going to be pleasant, but you had no plans on giving them that code. You would rather be killed. “Go ahead and shoot me now, because it does not matter what you do, I will never give up that code.”

You turned around slowly, looking down the barrel of the gun, directly into the man’s eyes. You refused to let him think he had you scared, you wanted him to realize that he would fail, that you would die before even thinking about giving up Mando or the kid.

“We’ll see about that.” He locked eyes on you, lowering the gun only slightly. “Tie them up,” You were quickly grabbed and dragged over to a tree that was near the entrance of the ship, you were bound to the tree tightly, a little wiggling told you that you weren’t getting out very easily.

“Alimar! Can you get that damn door open?” The man you assumed was in charge asked the smallest man, who was beside the panel.

“I am trying sir, but the security is very tight and I am afraid that one wrong move and it will just lock down more.”

“Well don’t make a wrong move. I want that damn door open before The Mandalorian gets back here.”

“Now you, you’re going to make his job unneeded and you’re going to tell us your code.”

“Again, not happening.” You rolled your eyes at him. Your answer earned you a swift and strong fist to your gut. You groaned at the pain but straightened yourself.

“Fine, stop, the code is 654321.” You said, making yourself sound more out of breath then you were.

“Don’t enter that!” The man in front of you shouted to Alimar, who was about to enter it as if you would give up that easy.

“Is that the code you enter to warn your little mandalorian? You think I’m that stupid?”

“I guess you’ll never know if I ever even give you the right code or if what I say will do any number of things, from warn Mando, to locking it down further, to self destroying the ship.”

“You wouldn’t risk the kid’s life.” He glared at you, but you could tell the wheels in his brain were turning. He had to think of a way to get you to give him the code, but he had to be able to be sure it was the right one.

“Well I guess that just leaves the hard way. Can’t trust you until I can break you.”

He wasn’t lying, he had no intentions of going easy on you. He had started by changing your position, tying your hands on a branch that happened to be at the perfect height above your head. You knew this position left you much more vulnerable, and he took full advantage of that.

He started with his blaster, a shot to your shin, followed by asking for the code. You gave another random combination of 6 digits. He then walked away, towards the panel, he would examine it, then walk back. A shot to your forearm, followed by the same question. You gave another 6 numbers. He walked away, only to come back, this time with a knife.

He gave you a deep cut on the outside of the thigh that hadn’t been shot previously. You hadn’t been able to hold in the screamed pains you had been letting out after each infliction, which only seemed to make the man in front of you smile.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you did notice the sun beginning to set. He started to leave you alone for longer periods, which was good. You weren’t sure how many more you were going to be able to take. You were just praying that Mando would be back soon.

Even if you didn’t last much longer, you also started to worry about their resident mechanic. You kept your eye on his progress and were scared that he could actually manage to get through the door.

It had quickly become dark, the only light coming from the lights on the ship. You could tell it was also cooling down as well. You tried to ignore the shivers that were running through your body but there was no use.

“Shit!” You heard the man who had been on watch utter. “Boss! We got a problem, he’s here.”

“Fuck!” The man in charge frantically looked around trying to figure something out. You were about to let out a scream, something to warm Mando, but right as you opened your mouth, one of them shoved a cloth into your mouth.

“Not gonna happen.” He tightened it around your head, making sure you weren’t able to spit it out to warn Mando.

“Good, all we need to do is hide, when he gets here, he’ll be distracted with them, and by the time they can even try to warn him, we’ll jump him.” Their leader told them. They were quickly to gather the little they had and find themselves spots that they would go unseen.

You just prayed that Mando would catch their body signatures through his visor first. If he noticed them before he noticed you, then he would have a chance of fighting them off. If their plan went their way, and he was distracted by you, there was a chance they could overpower him.

You heard your name being shouted, you turned your head to see Mando, his focus solely on you. His helmet never left you, even as you shook your head viciously, trying to get him to look anywhere else, but he was in front of you quickly.

Mando was looking you over, you could feel the anger and tension that was radiating from him. Though at the moment all you could think about was warning him. You were trying to yell through the gag, but it stopped anything comprehensible from coming out.

“Who did this to you!?” Mando asked, a sharp edge to his voice, one that sent a shiver down your spine. He was quick to untie to gag, realizing you were trying to say something.

“Behind you!” Was all you could manage to get out as soon as the gag was undone.

He only had a moment to turn around and realize that he was faced with exactly who did this. His blaster was fired off before he even fully had time to process what was transpiring. His shot landed, though you were sad to realize it took down the least threatening, the mechanic.

He begins to go for the other four men, but one manages to kick his blaster out of his hand, he is left trying to fight all of them with just his hands. You tried to get out of your ropes again, to no avail and were left to watch in panic and he tried to fight them all off. He had been knocked to the ground. Not one, but two of the men on top of him holding him down. You watched as he went to use his flame thrower on his arm to get them off him, when the leader was quick to step down hard on his wrist, stopping his ability to get the flames anywhere that would be helpful.

You watched in panic as he thrashed around, trying to gain any leverage but he was outnumbered. The leader got the third man to take over holding his arm down. The two men on top of him shifted slightly, just enough so that their leader could bend down in front of Mando.

“It looks like you aren’t as sharp as everyone says.” He taunted. “I was expecting more of a fight, I didn’t think that you cared about anything under all that metal. But looks like all it took to take down the great Mandalorian was capturing his favorite little companion.”

“Leave them out of this!” He seethed, thrashing more at the mention of you.

“Oh, but why would I, when we had so much fun today while you were gone.” He smiled disgustingly. “Honestly surprised they are even awake with all I put them through today.”

His attention flickered to you for a moment, he was quick to notice you looked more panicked now than you had all day and he realized he might have just hit the jackpot.

“You know, I always wondered what you looked like under that tin can. I bet you are hideous, it’s not some creed that keeps that helmet on, but more that you are just so ugly no one would want to look at you.” He began to bend down towards Mando. If he had been thrashing beforehand, now he was frantic.

“Stop!!” You screamed, grabbing the leader and Mando’s attention. “Stop! I will give you the code, please, just leave him alone,”

“Is that all it takes to break you? You don’t want to know what he looks like? Afraid he will have to kill you after you know?”

“I think I have made it pretty clear today that my life is not what matters here.” You sighed, “Just leave him alone and I will give you the code.”

“Don’t!” You heard him beg you, but your heart was shattering, you refused to allow these men to break Mando of his creed. A creed that you had witnessed how seriously he took. You would not be a part of that happening.

You locked your eyes with his visor, hoping that you were meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t watch them hurt you.”

“Good.” The leader smiled, standing up over Mando. “Now no games. If the code you give me does not open that door, then I will take that helmet, kill your precious Mandalorian slowly, and make you watch. Then I will blow my way through this ship anyway and get the kid, and leave you to die. Do you understand?

“Yes. No games, just promise you won’t hurt him.” You pleaded.

“You have my word.” You knew the word of a hunter like him meant nothing, and when you noticed that Mando’s free hand was reaching slightly for a blade in the side of his pants, you realized you had a plan, one that gave Mando the time he needed to get the upper hand.

“Okay. My code is 827364.” You sighed, you gave the right number up until the last digit. The panel would light green for every correct digit, meaning that until the last moment, he would think that you were right. But you also knew he had to untie you because your bioscan would have timed out. This would hopefully allow you to give Mando some form of help, though you had minimal strength left in your body, you would try.

“Fuck.” He marched back over to you. “Don’t even think of trying anything.” He told you as he untied you from the tree. You realized just how weak you were when you nearly collapsed. You saw Mando twitch at seeing just how bad of shape you were in, but now neither of you had time to do anything about it.

“Looks like you won’t be doing anything even if you wanted to.” He smirked, practically dragging you to the ship panel. He pressed your hand to it, reading your signal. Once he was no longer in need of you, he threw you to the ground away from him.

You groaned as you hit the ground. Watching as he entered the numbers you had given him. You realized he had made a mistake when you saw a blaster that was in your reach.

You put all your effort into stretching just enough to grab it without signalling to him or the others what you were doing. You saw him tap the last number and as soon as the panel turned red you let your blaster shot go off.

The man whose foot had been holding Mando’s hand down was suddenly stumbling back, and hit the ground. Mando wasted no time, his arm coming up and the flames engulfing the two men holding him down.

They screamed in agony as they rolled off the mandalorian. He got to his feet in record time and before the leader could think to retaliate against you, a knife was plunged into his chest.

Mando marched over to him and was above him as he stumbled back into the ship. Without a word he rips the blade out and stabs it back in the other side. The knife is out of him again, this time finding a place in his stomach. Next his thigh, until finally he has enough and with a quick swipe, the man’s neck is sliced open. He tried to helplessly grab at his neck but within moments he was bleeding out on the ground.

You heard three more blaster shots before Mando was in your vision. “You’re okay, you’re going to be okay.”

You tried to nod, tried to stand up, but your body had given up on you. “I’m sorry.” You managed to get out. If you had only listened to him, you would have been in the ship and not put all of you in such danger.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He told you softly as he wrapped his arms gingerly under you. “Let’s get you patched up.”

“I could have gotten us all killed.” You whined at the pain as he lifted you.

“But you didn’t.” He sighed. He was trying to hold in the worry and anger that was still coursing through his veins. The pain and anger he felt seeing you tied to that tree, the last thing he was worried about had been his creed, and yet, you had. You refused to let them take away something that you didn’t even fully understand and he couldn’t help but love you a little more for that.

While that anger and worry could lead him to taking it out on you, you had disobeyed him, but you also risked your life for him and the child, and he couldn’t be mad at you for that. Instead he left all his anger to the men that were dead outside the ship.

He was as careful as he could be with you as he finally unlocked the ship and walked you up the ramp and quickly laid you on a cot so he could begin to patch you up.

“You saved us.” He adds softly as he notices you slip into sleep. He hoped you would sleep through the worst of the treatments if he was being honest, once he was sure you couldn’t hear him he added, “You saved me.”

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elysianslove · 3 years

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heaven on your lips; matsukawa smau

synopsis; he finds refuge in that no matter what, you will always come back to him. he finds refuge in that he’s the sole reason for your pleasure and happiness. whether that be from the sidelines, or from within the four walls of your home, in the confines of your bedroom. no matter what, you’re his, and he’s yours, even if neither of you seem to notice it.

pairings; matsukawa issei x fwb!reader

genre; fluff, smut, humor

warnings; cursing and inappropriate language. nsfw and suggestive themes.

note; i am so excited to post this holy crap. if there are grammar or spelling mistakes pls just ignore my brain is fried :(

masterlist | previous , chapter eighteen , next

issei remembers the day the two of you had decided on your arrangement, clearly too. maybe it’s because, looking back now, it’s the first real clue on the consequences.

this had been maybe the third (or had it been fourth) time either of you you had woken up naked in each other’s beds, limbs tangled and muscles sore from their exhaustion. you’d been half asleep in his arms, eyes barely open, cheek pressed to his chest and arm slung across his torso. only minutes ago were you fixated on his phone’s screen, but after the night’s strenuous activities, and the warmth and comfort issei was radiating, so soothing, calming, safe, it was hard not to easily lose focus and fall into a deep slumber.

if he’d noticed, he wouldn’t have nudged you awake. but he hadn’t, so he’d lifted his shoulder, shaking you awake slightly as he locked his phone, tossing it across his bed.

“why’d you wake me?” you’d sleepily asked, slowly lifting yourself up. a red splotch had appeared on your cheek and jaw, from having pressed against his skin for too long, and, unable to resist, he’d reached out and poked at it cheekily. he remembers you grabbing at his finger, rolling your eyes as you’d threatened to bite him.

as he’d watched you sat up, brushing your hair back and trying to smooth it over, he’d asked you. now, he realizes, it hadn’t been the right question. at the time, of course it was. he liked the way you fit against him so perfectly, the way nobody had ever felt as good as you, how responsive you were to him, the way everything felt so electric. it had been summer, the weather outside obvious on the way your skin glimmers from not just where you’d been beneath him. the summer after graduation, where uncertainty was at its highest. commitment was scary in every way, and so were big decisions. both of you already had the responsibility of your future on your shoulders. his suggestion had been perfect for your situation.

“do you wanna keep doing this?”

if only he’d had the courage to take it further. fate had spelled it out for him, handed it to him on a silver platter. you were his past, his present, and so obviously, his future. and yet, he’d hesitated. he’d faltered, stuttered, wavered, and then he’d had to watch you belong to another man for a night, and for however long it was meant to.

“that’s an— amazing idea,” you’d gasped. “why didn’t we think of that last time?”

he’d laughed lightly, welcoming you easily into his embrace as you’d leaned forward, hovering your lips above his as you had added, “or the time before that?” before kissing him lightly, crawling closer to him. “or the time before that?” you had repeated, kissing him again, sleep having completely worn off. he’d helped you onto his lap, your skin feeling so pretty and perfect against his large hands as he’d kneaded and massaged your waist and hips, pulling you even closer to him.

and now, as he locks his car, walking to your front door, he somehow feels you upon his lips.

the memory is frustrating, and he’s reminded awfully of the things he’d do to kiss you again. even if he hadn’t noticed and recognized it then, it had been nothing short of heaven.

heels in your hand, a just freshly used lipstick tube in the other, you rush towards the door when the bell rings loud, praying that it’s not an unexpected guest and one of your boys instead

“coming!” you call out loudly, placing the lipstick aside and finally opening the door. at the sight of issei on the other side, you relax, sighing lightly.

“can’t say i haven’t seen you this relieved to see me before,” he teases, smirking familiarly down at you. even after ending it, he still manages to slip in a sex joke or two— you can’t say you blame him.

you roll your eyes, still managing to smile lightly as you step aside, allowing him to enter. his figure now properly illuminating, you’re able to fully take him in. it’s unsurprising that he looks good; issei’s always managed to effortlessly look put together, even in the most casual of clothes. but maybe it’s because he’s not in casual clothes that you feel a yearning for him you haven’t had since he’d been naked in your bed over a month back. he’s dressed in black on black, a button up and slacks. the button up’s sleeves are rolled up to his mid forearms, and on his wrist are two leather bands. but most importantly, on his fingers are a multitude of rings, silver and black, thick and thin, accentuating just how nice his hands really are.

“a blazer would’ve been too much, hm?” he interrupts your staring, cracking his knuckles lightly.

“like you own one,” you joke, smiling tauntingly as you lead the way to your living room.

laughing loudly, he follows you as you make your way to the couch, sitting down and placing your heels by your feet. but just as you’re about to grab at one of the heels, he beats you to it, lifting it up, before tapping at your knee. “let me,” he offers, outstretching a hand expectedly.

raising a brow, you observe him carefully. but because this is issei, it’s issei, you don’t think twice as you lift your leg over his lap, letting his hands brush against your ankle as he fits the heel on. “wow, ‘sei, didn’t think you’re down this bad,” you laugh, lifting your other leg up to let him put your other heel on. he rolls his eyes at your words, smiling softly. as he secures it, you lift a hand to his shoulder, adding, “thank you.”

“no, thank you, for flashing me,” he says, finger reaching out for your dress’s strap, hooking through it and lifting it over your shoulder. you hold back a shiver when his finger brushes against your skin.

you spare a glance down, scoffing as you reply, “you’ve seen worse.”

“you mean better,” he corrects you, and you stifle a laugh, shaking your head as you fix yourself up, fumbling with your hair and dress and accessories. “what are you stressing so much about? you look gorgeous.”

your hands falter slightly at his words, and you smile softly at him, relaxing. “so you meant what you said?”

“when have i ever not?”

the doorbell rings again.

slowly, but surely, your home starts to fill with people. right after issei had been makki, iwaizumi, and oikawa, but not long after had the karasuno third years — and some past first and second years too, including a certain, lively, ginger boy — arrived. it’s a surprise seeing hinata slightly taller now, and he jokes that it won’t be long before he’s surpassing everyone in the room.

you spend the time between that and when the next people arrive catching up with everyone, learning what they’ve been up to. it’s a lot less awkward than you’d imagined, and you easily fall into comfortable talk, and soon a lighthearted atmosphere builds.

when semi first sees you, he smiles, softly. he grabs at your hand and twirls you around, telling you that you look so pretty, dove. the nickname as always, makes your heart flutter in your chest, but just like the last time you’d been with him, it also aches. terribly so.

it’s eleven thirty when your home is properly flooded with people, half an hour away from midnight. someone had taken the liberty of dimming the lights slightly, and everyone had long since gotten comfortable. as you glance at the couch occupied by a couple making out — you’re barely able to identify their figures among the other people that crowd around them and the darkness that surrounds the couple — and at the drinks and foods scattered across the room, you realize just how much of a pain this’ll be to clean up.

thankfully, you have four extremely athletic boys as your backbone. it’s the only thing that keeps your mind at ease when you watch someone’s drink spill all over them and on the floor.

you’re pulled out of your thoughts, both literally and figuratively, when a familiar redhead grips at your wrist— a now bald redhead?

“tendō? oh my god, you shaved your hair!” you’re practically yelling over the loud music booming through the house — please, do not let the cops raid this party — eyes wide at the man before you.

he laughs loudly, eyes closing and head thrown back, before he rubs his hand over his hair, or what’s left of it. “ya like it, huh?” he asks loudly, beaming down at you.

you nod excitedly, gripping at his hands tightly. “i actually really do. suits you,” you chuckle.

he laughs again, replying with a heartfelt thank you, holding onto you just as eagerly as he adds, “come on, let’s dance, pretty girl.”

by the time the countdown is nearly about to start, you’d been roped into dancing with tendō and kuroo, whose friend bokuto had jumped in the middle of it all. makki’s easily drawn to vibes like these, so, unexpectedly, you’d found him by your side immediately. bursting with adrenaline and slightly overwhelmed, you’d pulled kiyoko and any other girls you had come across into the small dance circle you and the rest had created. unsurprisingly, kiyoko’s an incredible dancer. it’s freeing and intoxicating, the way you’re able to let loose, to be so carefree, inhibitions mostly lost.

you’re breathless and sweaty as everyone eventually groups and pairs off aside, hair pulled up and out of your face to air yourself out slightly. the room is buzzing with excitement as the last minutes before midnight pass, drinks in hand and cheers prepared.

issei finds you exactly sixty seconds before midnight.

you’re walking in the opposite direction, but his hand latches onto your wrist, turning you around. when you spot and recognize him before you, you beam, walking closer to him.

“hey,” you greet him, smiling warmly. his expression only slightly mirrors yours, laced more with worry than you, and more than you’d ever seen on him, and when his hand leaves your wrist, it only finds your hand instead. but you don’t pull away at it. you let him test the waters, his hand shakily slipping into yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

near you, someone calls out the thirty second mark.

“i have to tell you something.”

he’s a lot closer now, his grip on your hand tightening, almost as if nervously, your confusion growing.

“right now?” you wonder, watching as he nods.

the twenty second mark is yelled out from someone that sounds an awful lot like oikawa.

“right now,” he replies. “it should have been a long time ago though.”

your brows furrow, and you cock your head slightly, stepping closer to him. “you can tell me anything,” you promise him, reassuring. you squeeze your hand in his, urging another smile on your face as his eyes meet yours.

“anything?”

you nod encouragingly, almost feeling the time tick by. the room starts to feel smaller.

“nobody could ever compare,” he starts, just as someone calls out the ten second mark. your eyes search for meaning in his, but you’re clueless. the countdown begins, from ten to nine to eight, and he continues, “nobody.”

“issei—“

“— four, three, two!—“

“i love you.”

“—HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

and then he kisses you.

end note; 🦋🦋🦋 enjoy this while it lasts loves <3

↪️ taglist; @pockyxx @littlevoxine @oahbooks @diyeoracha @pun-in-ten-ded @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kac-chowsballs @its-the-aerieljeane @dreamie-corpsie @moonlitdabi @fckyaeger @prettyforpapiiwa @elianetsantana @adorable-punk-superheroes @memorableminds @palmtopkags @crescenttooru @aktregoning @llavender-honeyy @satoriluver @rucan @ilauvcoldpizza @chaelysian @kazookid-monoma @c42levrie @gojosfatjuicycock @bokoutoebutmain @morpheus-rex @keishinsuke @thatnikkixx @greyevangeline @daddy-daichis @thenezuko @ptv-hades @h0ngh0ngh0ng @atsumubabe @ivsahi @kritiiiii @heyatsumu @apollochjld @softestooru @lonelysimpkawa @anaakaashi @dreampathic @jooleuuh @elephantloser @sexykpoprincess-blog @bebegi @psychedelicwh0r3 @bakugouswh0r3 @fluffyviciousbunny @halesandy @simpinforseventeen @zvkoo @noliamallpayne @steggy4ever @michaki @akaawhore @jimmyneutron975 @stel9 @auror-lovie @a-little-pebbl @afire24 @keitoshikatsu @somecravings @richkookie @dennymilkus @prettybeezs @cutiepatoodie @roses-and-grasses @unhappysap @goldentsumu @swagdaddycam @kenmasgf @lvrkuroo @blvxstery @miwtze @donteathecake @anngelllla @idiot-juice-enthusiast @kuroos-roosterhead @just-that-bi-girl @tanzaniiite @amlnadya @shoutamajiki @sunaluvs @tomatoezzz @rintarosslut @mariachiii @theunfriendlyblkhottie @kirishimasl0ver @trashykei @moonlitevibes @erinoikawa @saikishairclip @tendousshawtybae @himboos @fandomtrashpandasposts @boosyboo9206

i’m sorry if tumblr won’t tag you :( let me know if you’re not getting notifications or i misspelt or missed your @!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa smau #matsukawa issei smau #mattsun x reader #mattsun smau #aoba johsai x reader #s. heaven on your lips

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dirt-cup-draco · 3 years

Text

Thorin x Reader- One Foot in Front of the Other

Hellooooo! I was wondering if you could write a Thorin X Reader where it’s on the road or in Erebor. The reader suffers from an anxiety attack so Thorin calms her down and helps her go to sleep? @thethorinoakenshieldsimp

warning: it was 4am when I wrote this and I didnt proofread

It was a perfect storm that brought you to your knees. Half of the company had been injured in a sudden attack by a single orc who had been scouting the area on his warg. You had all been caught unaware and by the time any of you had reached for your weapons it was too late for the fight to be swift and clean. Bombur had a wound that ran the entire length of his calf, Nori had a dent in his forehead that was bleeding into his eyes, two of Oin's fingers had been broken and worst of all Thorin had been rendered unconscious by a foul hit to the back of his head that required stitches.

Each look of shock and howl of pain had made your legs turn to jelly and the blood in your veins churn slowly as you froze up. Your hand had still been hovering just above the hilt of your dagger, still sheathed, as your friends-- your family-- fought for their lives. It wasn't the first time, yet it was the first time that your hesitance had resulted in bloodshed.

The chaos that day was enough that no one seemed to notice the pallid cast to your teary eyes or the quivering of your bottom lip. The dwarves, wizard, and hobbit who you had spent weeks with were made of something stronger as they forgot of the attack the moment they were stitched up and found another place to set up camp.

You were grateful that your emotions escaped the scrutiny of your dearest friends as you all gathered around a fire that night. The warmth of the flames were beginning to become too much as you all just sat. Weren't they concerned? What if you were to be attacked again? What if Thorin- what if anyone you cared for- befell a fate more terrible than a wound that could be stitched up?

They have nothing to fear, they are warriors. You are the fool who hesitated. If they are to die it will be because of your mistakes.

Suddenly, you couldn't take in a full breath of air.

You would blame the choked gasp that escaped you instead on the smoke rising from the fire as you stood abruptly, hands squeezed into fists. Your nails were biting into your palms and it was all you could do to ground yourself as you took shaky steps away from the fire.

"I'll be back!" You tried to inform everyone but your voice came out quiet and trembling. Only Thorin caught your words, having been seated a foot away from you on his bedroll. He gave a sharp nod and you stumbled over every step you took until the laughter and conversation of your friends had faded into a muted buzz. The fire was a speck when you looked behind you.

You fell to your knees in the high grass, dew seeping into the knees of your trousers. You took a deep inhale, held it for three seconds-- one... two...three...-- and attempted to exhale at a similar pace. You couldn't fall apart, not when there were people counting on you.

Go ahead, fall apart. They know when the time comes you won't be of any use. Thorin knows that you can not be depended upon.

Your own thoughts were a hard right hook to your fragile state and you dug your palms into your eyes to hold back tears. "I've got to get out of here,"

"Do you truly mean such words?"

You froze in place, once again rendered immovable by an ambush. You had certainly not expected anyone to follow after you, let alone the holder of your heart and the source of your courage on the roughest of days.

"I-I... Thorin what are you doing here?" You offered lamely, trying to coax your body into moving. You tried to stand but you were feeling such whiplash that instead you stayed on the grass, choosing to face Thorin despite the redness of your cheeks and the glassiness of your eyes.

"You seem....unwell,"

The dwarf before you seemed uncomfortable, his eyes darting around the dark landscape spread out around you all. The two of you had this clearing all to yourself, your company tucked into the trees; eating rabbit stew and laughing. It seemed Thorin would be much happier in their company. Your head began to spin again but locked onto the only possibility. He must be here to reprimand you.

"It wont happen again, I promise!" You hurried to say but you felt fear well up in the pit of your stomach. What if it did happen again? "I froze and that is unacceptable but I need to see this through Thorin, I need to be here," Even if it's as a shield, I can be of use.

Thorin's gruff features warped into a mix of understanding and confusion. Your fearless leader knelt in the grass, so near that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. If you reached out you could touch his chest, tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, hold his hand. It would never be welcome, but you longed to prove yourself to Thorin and to win his heart.

"I merely mean to say that you seem bothered from today's events," Thorin supplied and you pressed your lips into a thin line to keep from rambling all of your overwhelming thoughts and apologies.

"You are a brilliant and necessary member of this company Y/N. What occurred today was my fault alone. If I'd only anticipated..." Thorin's eyes were distant, a thunder cloud darkening his features. "You could have been injured or worse today and I understand if you are questioning my abilities as the head of this company. I vow to you that I will be more cautious from now-"

Your eyes felt as if they were bulging from their sockets, your shock at Thorin becoming shy and uncertain in front of you made your heart swell with affection and your belly burn with the need to protect him. You were terrified of being a useless body on this adventure when Thorin seemed to have the same damning beliefs occasionally.

"I will follow you anywhere you go, Thorin Oakenshield, I trust you with my life, and would protect you with it as well," You spoke quickly, that need to comfort him encouraging you to take his hand. It wasn't as if you had never touched the dwarf before, you knew that his hands were calloused and worn with work and battle but also gentle and steady. Yet, you were bewildered at the butterflies in your stomach that erupted at the simple gesture.

Thorin was seemingly taken aback by the conviction in your previously tremoring voice because he looked at you with saucers for eyes and that stormy grey brightened. You dropped his hand.

"I know you will, mudùmel,"His nickname for you familiar in all but definition. You wished he would give you relief and help you understand but no one seemed eager to tell on Thorin. You hoped it was nothing too cruel. He didn't seem to be the type of dwarf to mock those he led to battle however, so you held some hope it was fond.

"But I can see the toll that our journey has taken on your mind. I too have collapsed under the weight of freezing in battle and the consequences that followed have never left my mind. You were not at fault and I hate to see the torment in your eyes."

"Thorin, what if-"

"No," He sighed softly. "Please do not venture down roads that are better left untraveled. I have unending faith in you, Y/N. You belong here and I will stand for no one, not even yourself, questioning that. All I can ask of you is that you keep taking one step in front of the other and that you never doubt your place in this company."

The world had stopped spinning long ago, your breath returned to a rhythmic inhale and exhale as Thorin picked at the jagged pieces of your mind and then smoothed them over. Your feelings weren't going to vanish but you did feel a spark of pride in yourself-- Thorin surely lending you some of his own pride in you.

"Thank you," Your gratitude was clear on your face and you prayed that Thorin would not look deeper and see the love you held for him. For now, gratitude and respect would be all that was between you two and it was all you needed.

"Come," Thorin offered his hand as he stood, accepting your thanks. "We belong with the rest of our company,"

As you walked side by side with Thorin, taking one step in front of the other, you became synchronized with the dwarf beside you and the steady strides you took to the camp helped kick away the last tendrils of worry and self doubt that had been so violently plaguing you before.

Thorin didn't drop your hand until Kili sent him a questioning look with a waggle of his eyebrows.

There were many things to be frightened of in this world, and many of those things were far beyond your control but, with Thorin ahead of you, it wouldn't be hard to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

#thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield #fluff #angst #tw: anxiety #you are so sweet and i hope things have been okay! <3 #drabble #anxiety presents itself in many forms #this is what i tend to feel when i am having anxiety and panic attacks so that is how i have characterized this and i hope its okay

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drnikolatesla · 3 years

Text

Nikola Tesla's Cosmic Ray Theory

By J. J. J.

“More than 25 years ago I began my efforts to harness the cosmic rays and I can now state that I have succeeded in operating a motive device by means of them.”—Nikola Tesla (“Tesla’s Cosmic Motor May Transmit Power Round Earth”, Brooklyn Eagle, July 10, 1932.)

Cosmic rays are defined as highly electrified particles that originate from the sun, other stars in the Milky Way galaxy, and from other galaxies which constantly invade Earth. They became popular in 1912 when Victor Hess piloted a balloon with electroscopes to detect the presence of the electric charges in the atmosphere. Cosmic rays are still a mystery today, but it is generally not known that Nikola Tesla was actually the first to discover these mysterious radiations.

Nikola Tesla’s cosmic ray discovery was one of his crowning achievements throughout his work in experimental science, the result of over 40 years of investigations, research, and inventions. This discovery would designate Tesla the forefront leader in developing machinery operating from a new source of power available everywhere at any location on Earth.

Starting in 1894, Nikola Tesla began experimenting with x-rays, and alongside Wilhelm Roentgen, was the first to produce some of the first x-ray images. In 1896, Tesla’s experiments based on these newly discovered rays confirmed that Alessandro Volta’s contact theory of electricity was correct - that an electrical current is produced when two different metals become in contact with one another. Tesla directed these rays toward many different materials, such as sodium, magnesium, lead, tin, iron, copper, silver, gold, and platinum, and found platinum to be the poorest reflector of these rays while sodium one of the best. In conducting these experiments, Tesla came to the following conclusions:

Highly exhausted cathodic bulbs used in x-ray imaging emit material streams which are reflected from metallic surfaces;

These streams are formed of matter in some primary or elementary condition;

The streams are likely the same agent which is the cause of the electromotive tension between metals in close proximity;

Every metal or conductor is more or less a source of such streams;

These streams must be produced by some radiations which exist in the medium;

Streams resembling the cathodic emissions must be emitted by the sun, and also by other sources of radiant energy.

He considered each of his conclusions to be incontrovertible, and with these results, Tesla would become the first scientist to successfully theorize the existence of the cosmic ray.

Believing that there is a continuous supply of such radiations in the medium, Tesla worked tirelessly to prove his theory. Since his conclusions indicated that the streams are composed of primary particles which must come from the sun, Tesla suggested that these particles travel at very high velocities, and are broken into smaller particles by impact against other materials on earth. His analogy was that of a bullet being shot at a wall (the bullet representing the cosmic rays and the wall acting as an object on earth). When the bullet strikes the wall, it is crushed and shatters in all directions radial to where it hit the wall. According to Tesla, the energy from the flying particles can only come from that of the bullets, and the results will differ based on the density of the wall and the velocity of the bullets.

This is an important point in Tesla’s discovery. Right around the time of these experiments (1898), radioactivity was being discovered by Marie Curie. Based on Curie’s discoveries, Tesla realized it was cosmic rays that are the cause of radioactivity on earth. Just like his analogy above states, it was not the elements on earth that are radioactive from inside as Curie hypothesized; rather, the radioactivity was due to cosmic rays coming in contact with the elements and breaking into smaller particles.

In 1899, in order to make his experiments more precise and further prove his cosmic radioactivity theory , Tesla developed a more intricate method that eliminated the limitations and incertitude of the electroscope popularly used by other scientists during this time. He used two conductors and connected them to terminals of a capacitor which had a considerable electrostatic captivity. One conductor was an insulated metal plate exposed to the sun and other radiations, and the other was a grounded capacitor (e.g. a supply of negative electricity). Essentially, the cosmic rays ionize the air, setting free many electrical charges—ions and electrons. When the cosmic rays impinge against the metal plate connected to one terminal of a capacitor - while the other terminal of the capacitor is grounded to a negatively charged earth - a current flows into the capacitor as long as the insulated body is exposed to the radiation. Therefore, an accumulation of electrical energy in the capacitor takes place. This energy can then be utilized for power purposes. He filed a patent based on these results titled, “Apparatus of the Utilization of Radiant Energy,” published in 1901. This concept is a precursor to today’s concept of solar panels, but more advanced in that it operates utilizing cosmic radiation and not just the sun’s light.

With this apparatus and associated experiments and observations, Tesla confirmed his cosmic ray theory--that sources of radiant energy (such as the sun) throw off with great velocity minute particles of matter, some even traveling faster than light. These particles are strongly electrified and are, therefore, capable of charging an electrical conductor (and may also conversely discharge an electrified conductor). In further experiments, Tesla noticed with his apparatus that the sun, in whatever position it may be in the sky, cut off the radiations from beyond and replaced them with its own. As a result of his measurements, cosmic ray velocities from the star Antares were found to travel fifty times greater than the speed of light.

Tesla would continue research in this field, but spent most of his time dedicated to his worldwide wireless system which he deemed far more important. In his later years, when the notion of the cosmic ray again started to gain popularity, he would return to provide his invaluable insight based on his extensive research and previous experiments. . For example, he would be the first to assume that the cosmic ray gives rise to a secondary radiation by impact against the cosmic dust scattered through space, originating from all directions. In 1932, Tesla would give a mathematical explanation of the intensity of cosmic rays in relation to the elevation from earth in an article titled “The External Source of Energy of the Universe, Origin and Intensity of Cosmic Rays.” The formula is below, in Tesla’s own words:

“I = (W+P) / (W+p)”

“In this expression W is the weight in kilograms of a column of lead of one square centimeter cross section and one hundred and eighty centimeters length, P the normal pressure of the atmosphere at sea level in kilograms per square centimeter, p the atmospheric pressure at the altitude under consideration and in like measure and I the intensity of the radiation in terms of that at sea level which is taken as unit. Substituting the actual values for W and P, respectively 1.9809 and 1.0133 kilograms, the formula reduces to:

I = 2.99421 / (1.9809 + p)

Obviously, at sea level p = P hence the intensity is equal to 1, this being the unit of measurement. On the other hand, at the extreme limit of the atmosphere p = 0 and the intensity I = 1.5115.

The maximum increase with height is, consequently, a little over fifty-one percent. This formula, based on my finding that the absorption is proportionate to the density of the medium whatever it be, is fairly accurate. Other investigators might find different values for W but they will undoubtedly observe the same character of dependence, namely, that the intensity increases proportionately to the height for a few kilometers and then at a gradually lessening rate.”

Based on Tesla’s extensive research, many calculations, and several years of thorough experiments, Tesla came to the following conclusions:

The intensity of the cosmic rays must be greatest at the zenith of the atmosphere;

The intensity should increase more and more rapidly up to an elevation of approximately 20 kilometers where the conducting air stratum begins;

From that point on, the intensity should decrease; first slowly and then more rapidly, to an insignificant value at an altitude of about 30 kilometers;

The display of high potential must occur on the free end of the terrestrial wire, that is to say, on the area furthest from the sun - the darkest side of earth. The current from this part of the planet is supplied at a pressure of about 216 billion volts and there is a difference of 2 billion volts between the illuminated and the dark side of the globe. The energy of this current is so great that it readily accounts for the aurora and other phenomena observed in the atmosphere and at the earth’s surface.

With such convincing results, Nikola Tesla was clearly one of the foremost leaders in cosmic ray discovery and theory and was, without a doubt, ahead of his time:

“The greatest mistake made is the appraisal of the energy of cosmic rays. In most cases the ionizing action is used as a criterion, which is useless, for the most powerful cosmic rays virtually do not ionize at all and leave no trace of their passage through the instrument. I have resorted to different means and methods and have found that the energy of the cosmic radiations impinging upon the earth from all sides is stupendous, such that if all of it were converted into heat the globe quickly would be melted and volatilized.

Since expressing, in 1896, my ideas on the origin and character of cosmic rays and of the cause of radioactivity, all my views have been confirmed by my own findings and those of others, while the numerous theories advanced have been proved false or inadequate. Those who are still doubting that our sun emits powerful cosmic rays evidently overlook that the solar disk, in whatever position it may be in the heavens, cuts off the radiations from beyond, replacing them by its own.

“As the radiations from the sun are only a little more intense than those coming from other directions, the lack of pronounced differentiation has deceived the observers. Regarding radio-activity, it occurs exactly as required by my theory. The radio-active emanations from the globe are secondary effects of external rays and two-fold - one part coming from the energy stored, the other from that continuously supplied.” --Nikola Tesla (“Expanding Sun Will Explode Some Day Tesla Predicts.” New York Herald Tribune, August 18, 1935.)

#nikola tesla #science #physics #history #discovery #invention #experiments #cosmic rays #universe #technology #energy #power #electricity #quotes #ahead of his time #ahead of our time

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Note

Okay you have no idea how excited I was to see that you're open for requests! I love your Mando stories so could I please request my big boi Paz? I'd love to witness you do magic with prompts : 14 (bodyguard AU) and either 49 (fake marriage)/63 (mistaken for couple)/80 (green-eyed epiphany) *can you tell I couldn't decide* *I'm a Libra* *I do apologize*

Im honored that you love my mando fics and that you got excited about me opening requests 🥺💕Also, as a Sagittarius sun and moon, I relate on not being able to make decisions 😔, but I have a great idea for:

14. Bodyguard AU

63. Mistaken for Couple

80. Green-Eyed Epiphany

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x GN!Reader

Words: roughly 2k, woops

Send me some AUs/Tropes??

Note: So I just wanted to start this off with what I'm thinking about this mash-up, like whats going on and the situation. A little backstory/world building, if you will. So, im seeing this as after the tribe on Nervarro scatters after the fight with Grogu, Din, and the Stormtroopers. Paz is by himself and in need of work for credits, to both support himself and save up for when/if he is reunited with his tribe he can help rebuild and contribute. That leads him to a small midrim planet that is pretty divided. You are the head of the government, but there is a group of people who keep trying to kill you and harm your supporters because they want the "true ruler" to be in your place. Said "ruler" is part of a bloodline of radical tyrants that had been controlling the planet until around the same time the empire fell, their downfall resulting from being too involved with the empire. SO, the head of your defense team brings in Paz to protect you, because not only is he a big scary dude covered in big weaponry and armor, but also because you keep insisting that all the soldiers and guards should be protecting the people not you, so bringing in Paz was his little loophole. Now on to the story!

You were not happy with this arrangement, and you had told the head of your guard just as much. You didn't need a protector, it only showed your rivals that you were scared of what they were capable of, that they had the possibility to win this war they were waging. The man- the mandalorian that had been hired was unfazed by your indifference towards him, always just trailing silently behind you look just as menacing as mandalorians were said to be. It was easy to tell that he knew his way around a variety of weapons, it was easy to tell that he had been through battles and suffered their consequences. And it was easy to tell that this job seemed to be a bit boring for him. He didn't have any excitement, most days the mandalorian was stuck following you throughout the capital building, attending meetings that he could care less about, standing guard to your study as you paced around in thought. Nothing much happened, but as time went on and the war worsened and the threat of your rivals loomed over your head you started to notice that the mandalorian would do little things that shaved a little of your stress away, or would brighten you day if only a little. Little treats would show up on your desk, or cups of teas or caf just the way you liked them, walks through the garden would result in a vase of flowers- handpicked and cut with a sharp knife at an angle, delicately- placed in your room. The first time you broke down in front of him, the stress of loosing nearly an entire village not far from where you were to the grievous ways of your enemies broke you to the point of sobbing hysterically and the mandalorian surprised you with his gentleness, as he softly grabbed your arms and made you look up at him, his blue helmet staring down at you as he said, "You will get past this...you...you are a good leader, you care for your people more than yourself, and in the end, that is what will have you coming out on top."

After that night, something changed between the two of you. Instead of following behind you silently, you started walking beside the mandalorian, in meetings instead of letting him stand silently behind you, you started asking his opinions on the battles or if he had any suggestions to help combat. The two of you got closer, and you weren't sure when, but eventually you found yourself calling the mandalorian a friend, and you liked to believe he thought of you as one as well, he at least trusted you enough that he told you his name, which you only used in the private of your quarters or study during your late night talks. When you started to show signs of the stress becoming too much, or that you were nearing another breakdown, he would gently lead you away from whatever you had been doing. More times than not he lead you to the gardens and sat you down as he would tell you stories of his childhood or of his people and culture. One evening, he went as far as to set up a little spot for you to relax and eat a little snack with tea, to give you time away from everything, to give you a break from holding your home on your shoulders. It had been nice, and it helped you clear your thoughts, the gesture had you smiling fully for the first time in months, and it was one that was not quick to fade. As thanks, you had asked Paz what you could do, to which he only replied, "Seeing you smile is enough." So you did, you smiled at him and gently reached out and placed a kiss on the cheek of his helmet.

The smile Paz had gifted you stayed for a few days, your people noticed the happiness and it it seemed to affect all of them, each person growing their own little smiles. Melancholy still hung in the air, but you felt like you had the energy and will power to deal with it now. But as all good things must end, this happiness was ripped from you, when the head of your guard rushed into a meeting with the delegates of the planet, his face was crumpled in worry and he whispered apologies as he reluctantly handed over a letter addressed to you. Your heart pounding, you opened the letter only to freeze at the sight of a photo taken of the moment that had only radiated happiness until now, staring down you only saw yourself pressed close to Paz’s form with lips pressed against his helmet. The moment now felt tainted, and you felt sick to your stomach, the happiness that was shown in the picture gone, only replaced with pure terror. Glancing at the man stood before you, he took the picture and flipped it before handing it back with a somber look. On the back, in deep red ink and scratchy handwriting read:

Now, do you really think courting a mandalorian is going to protect you from your death by my hands? Ill make sure to kill him in front of you so you have to watch as he falls.

Yours loving,

The True King

You hadn't even realized you were shaking, nor breathing heavily, until a gloved had reached into very and took the note away from you. You watched as Paz looked the note over before passing it back to your head guard. He told him something, but you could not hear as your eyes started ringing. Gently Paz helped you stand, before leading you away from the meeting. You didn't care where he was taking you, at that moment you couldn't think straight, couldn't get past the thought of, how did they get so close to take a photo without anyone noticing?

After the letter had been delivered Paz took care to never leave your side, he became more overbearing and involved with planning your schedule. No longer were you allowed in the gardens, or outside for that matter, for the time being, Paz only really allowed you to go to your quarters, your study, and the meeting room. You didn't fight him, too tired from the lasting conflicts and worry over what would happen next. A month went by, and everything quieted, the attacks stopped, and it almost felt like your enemy had gone into hiding. You didn't relax though, the note still whispering in the back of your head. Paz found himself often sleeping in the chair beside your bed, after too many nights of having been awoken to you yelling out his name and finding you rushing to his room to reassure yourself that he was safe.

Then it happened. You knew the quiet was only leading to something, but you weren't prepared to be a woke in the middle of the night to Paz scream to you. It had been the first night you had been able to fall asleep and stay asleep without nightmares of Paz’s death, but you were only thrown into a different nightmare as your eyes few open and you saw Paz fighting off an attacker. You yelled for you to run, and as you hesitated he only growled your name and told you to go, so with a heavy heart you did, you ran. All around the capital you could seem fires burning and hear your guards fighting with silhouettes your tired eyes could not make out in the low light of night. You did not know where to go, only letting your feet carry you, only stopping when you were out of breath. Looking around, you found yourself in the garden, feet from where you gave Paz the soft kiss, the memory still churning out a small amount of happiness, but quickly turned sour once more when the grinning face of the man you loathed most in the world stood from the bench hidden in the shadows.

"My dear, I was hoping you'd come here. I know you are especially fond of the gardens, most certainly this area."

"What do you want Alun? Why wouldn't you stop this fighting? People, my people, our people are suffering!"

He scoffed and turned to look at the city burning around you both. "The people deserve what they are getting for forgetting their true leaders. And you for forgetting what you once were."

"Stop this. You are doing nothing but destroying the planet!"

Alun turned to look at you, small smile curling onto his hate filled face. Slowly he reached out and placed the rose he had picked behind your ear, the thorns pricking your skin, one digging in enough to make a drop of blood run down your ear.

"When I have control again, and we are again together, things will go back to the way they were. I promise you, love. You just need to stop fighting me."

Disgust formed on your face as you stepped back, "We may have been engaged before you fell, but I never loved you. I was forced into that position by you and your father, and I do not regret being apart of how he and you fell from grace. I will never stop fighting you."

"Oh, but I love you, and I will have you, my love."

"Not if I have any say," a voice growled from behind you. Whipping around, relief flooded you at the sight of Paz marching towards where you stood. He was covered in blood from fighting, but seemed like he was uninjured himself much to your relief. But he seemed angry, livid almost as he pushed you behind him, standing toe-to-toe with Alun. "If you want them, you will have to get through me, and I will not stop fighting until my dying breath for them," Paz’s words settled into your chest, warmth flowing through you as the next few second moved in slow motion. Paz reached out, before Alun even had a chance to grab for his weapon. Paz lifted him like a rag doll to his height, making direct eye contact, before growling out, "because I love them, and you will never have them."

And with that said, Paz simply slammed his forehead into Alun's forcefully knocking him unconscious, then carelessly dropping him to the ground where he laid unmoving buise already forming on his forehead. Paz then turned to you and reached for you, but you simply flung yourself onto him. "You're okay, i was so worried, I didn't want to leave you, I was so scared that something would happen and that Id...."

"That you'd, what cyare," Paz whispered as he held you close, arms wrapped around you as if he'd let go and you'd disappear. Looking up and into his helmet's visor you were quiet for a moment, before speaking up softly, "I love you too... I thought I'd never get to tell you that I loved you."

Gently, Paz pressed his forehead against your own, before whispering, "You don't have to worry. I'll always be around to protect you. And," a teasing note coming out in his voice making you smile, "You can tell me how much you love me anytime you want. As long as you don't have anymore previous fiancés out there professing their love to you. I don't think I could hold back from ripping off their heads like I did just now."

Giggling you shook your head, "No more love professions, I promise. Only yours matter."

Everything Tags: @mysticalgalaxysalad @phoenixhalliwell @moodsare @perpetual-fangirl900 @night-snows00 @dumbass-simp-for-fredweasley @stargazingthenightaway @meabravo @just-here-for-the-moment @masteracewindu @litakino

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#anon thots #au tropes asks #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader #paz x gn!reader #14. Bodyguard AU #63. Mistaken for Couple #80. Green-Eyed Epiphany #i hope you liked this!!#i liked the idea but i feel like i kind of just threw it together hap hazardly :/

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detectivereyes · 3 years

Text

Ribs Like a Cage Full of Fire

Summary: A call at an ice rink leads to some painful consequences for TK

Written for the “broken ribs” square on my @badthingshappenbingo card, which was requested by @paramedicstrand 27 years ago and i finally wrote it <3

Beta and emotional support provided by @marjansmarwani

read on ao3

“You know, I practically grew up on the ice back in New York,” TK says, unable to hide the grin as they pull the ambulance up to the ice rink. Not to say he’s excited that someone hurt themselves on the ice, but he hadn’t found time to ice skate since moving to Austin so there was a part of him that looked forward to revisiting the ice.

“Wow, you’re from New York? You’ve never mentioned it before,” Nancy feigns sarcasm with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Ha ha, we’ll just have to see who's most comfortable once we actually get out the ice,” TK quickly retorts as Tommy gives them both a warning look. They lapse into a comfortable silence as they work together to get all the necessary supplies before heading out onto the rink.

As soon as TK steps foot onto the ice, he begins to wobble before quickly regaining his balance. He glances over to Nancy, hoping she didn’t see that but her mischievous grin says otherwise.

“Thought you grew up on the ice?”

He gives her a tight smile. “Well, it has been a while… Also I think the ice in Texas is extra slippery.”

“Whatever you say, dude,” Nancy says with a small chuckle.

Tommy, for her part, pushes past the two of them, walking across the ice with ease towards the patient. Through the crowd standing in a circle, TK can make out a young teenage boy carefully cradling his wrist against his chest.

Once they make their way over with only a few slips on both their parts, Nancy and TK busy themselves behind their Captain, getting all the supplies together as she addresses the patient.

“Hey there, my name’s Tommy. What’s yours?”

“Jimmy,” the young kid stutters out.

“Jimmy, can you tell me what happened?”

As Tommy tends to the patient, Nancy and TK prep the bandages and split. Stealing a side glance at the offending wrist, it does appear to be a compound fracture and TK winces in sympathy. He doesn’t wait for Tommy to ask before prepping an IV line in the hopes of providing some pain relief for Jimmy.

They work in a comfortable silence as Tommy carefully wraps the boy's injured arm before Nancy hands her the splint. They then ease Jimmy up to a standing position.

“You good to wrap up here, Strand?” Tommy turns and asks TK.

“Sure thing, Cap,” TK replies with a smile, watching as Tommy and Nancy carefully escort Jimmy toward the waiting ambulance.

He takes the time to pack up what’s left of their supplies before standing up, intending to follow them.

Except when he goes to stand, he must do so too quickly because before he can even process what’s happening, he finds himself losing his balance and struggling to remain upright on the slippery ice. His surroundings seem to blur as he falls back down, face first onto the ice. The moment his body collides with the ice, TK swears he can hear the audible cracking of his ribs from the pressure.

He winces as he pushes himself back into a seated position, ignoring the sharp protests coming from his chest and the cold ice shavings digging into his raw palms.

He takes a few seconds to glance around and see if anyone noticed. Other than a few side glances from various skaters gliding around the rink, no one seems to be giving him much attention. And by this point, Tommy and Nancy are loading Jimmy into the ambulance, too far away to see what had happened.

All of which means he’s on his own.

Left with no other option, he grabs his medical bag which had fallen with him onto the ice and forces himself to stand back up onto the ice, this time much more carefully. He slowly makes his way towards the opening on the side of the rink, using his arm to hold his chest tightly and relishing in the relief that it provides from the pain.

When he arrives at the back of the ambulance, he removes his arm supporting his chest and does his best to mask the pained expression. He must not do a great job though because Nancy gives him a questioning look.

“The ice is slippery,” he shrugs, giving his partner a reassuring smile. “I’m good though.”

The little voice in the back of his head is screaming that he should tell her or Tommy that he’s not actually good. That his chest feels like it’s on fire and each breath feels like knives stabbing him in the lungs.

But whether it’s out of pride or convenience's sake, he keeps his mouth shut and Nancy seems to accept his answer.

He shuts the doors on the back of the ambulance and slides into the driver's seat. If there had been any doubt that he was hurt, the seat belt digging into his rib cage and sending sharp pains radiating through the rest of his body confirmed it.

He suppresses the groan that threatens to escape from his mouth and sends a silent prayer that his teammates in the back of the rig don’t notice anything amiss.

All he can do is drive and choke back the tears that well in the corners of his eyes at each minor bump in the road.

The emergency room doors can’t appear in his line of sight soon enough. And fortunately he doesn’t have to do much as the hospital staff unload the stretcher, giving TK a few minutes to collect himself before he comes face to face with his partner and captain.

He takes a deep breath before pulling the keys out of the ignition and exiting the ambulance. Spotting Nancy on the side of the rig, he gives her a nod and hands her the keys. “It’s your lucky day, Gillian. You can drive back to the station.”

She raises her eyebrows curiously before shrugging. “I would question it, but I’m going to say yes before you change your mind.”

The ride back to the station passes by in a blur. He tries his best not to let on that anything is wrong and even with Nancy now sitting next to him, neither she nor Tommy seem to pick up on the pained grimaces or the fact that he’s much quieter than usual.

Once they are parked, TK wastes no time exiting the ambulance and ducking up the stairs towards the locker room, avoiding the curious glances of other members of the 126. Locking himself in a bathroom stall, he carefully unbuttons his uniform shirt before sliding his soft grey undershirt over his head. The movement only further aggravates his ribs and he can’t help the hisses of pain that escape from his lips.

He takes a shaky breath before glancing down, his face scrunching up in a wince at the sight of his chest. Though the fall only happened less than an hour ago, the faint outline of various shades of purple and blue are already beginning to paint his rib cage. Tentatively, he ghosts his fingers along the bruising and inhales sharply at the pain the soft touch causes.

At minimum, it’s very bad bruising. But more likely, he has a few fractured, possibly broken ribs.

He debates going to Tommy and confessing what had happened. It’s unlikely he would be able to last the rest of his shift like this and his paramedic brain is screaming that he needs actual medical attention.

But the urge to power through is too strong. Despite how loud the voice is telling that this is bad, the voice arguing back that maybe it isn’t that bad is louder.

There’s no reason to cut his shift short for this and make a big deal out of it. In fact, glancing at his watch shows that there’s only an hour left. Not that he wants to jinx it, but it’s likely that they won’t even get called to another scene. Besides, coming clean would also lead to not just his paramedic team, but the entire station finding out that he got hurt. Again.

No, that won’t be necessary today. He will power through the rest of his shift, looking forward to the moment he gets home and can ice his ribs.

He can do this.

Getting his uniform back on is no easy task, with sliding his undershirt over his again hurting him even more than when he slid it off. He settles for just wearing the undershirt for now, grabbing his blue uniform shirt before exiting the stall.

Re-entering the locker room, he hastily shoves the shirt in his locker, figuring he can hang it up later when it doesn’t feel like he’s about to pass out if he moves the wrong way. He takes a moment to breathe, suppressing the panic when he begins to notice how hard it is to take deep breaths.

“Hey, man. You good?”

TK’s head darts up, caught off guard by the entrance of Paul into the locker room, but he quickly catches himself and smiles. “Yeah, just a rough call earlier. How’s your shift been?”

Paul studies him carefully and TK knows he can sense the deflection and quick pivot in the conversation. But at this point Paul has known him long enough not to press, knowing that TK needs the space and will come to him if and when he needs to.

“It's been a little Q-word around here, so not too bad. Looking forward to a few days off after this, though,” Paul smiles.

“Yeah, I hear that.”

Paul looks like he’s about to say something else before he’s cut off by the alarms blasting through the house. TK lets out a sigh of relief when Paul looks away that it’s only fire being called to the scene, and not ambo.

When Paul turns back to him, they share a look and Paul shrugs. “Duty calls,” he brushes past TK, giving him a light pat on the back as he exits the area. A gesture which normally wouldn’t be much, but today it makes him see stars.

Fortunately, Paul is already out of sight as TK tries to regain his composure. He rests his back against the hard wood of the locker door and tries to stop the tears as he struggles to breathe through the pain, with each breath seeming like it filled up less and less of his lungs. His ribs continue to throb, sending aches throughout the rest of his body and he wonders how he’ll be able to make it through the next 45 or so minutes.

Fortunately, the rest of the shift does fly by and he’s able to take it easy. The rest of the station doesn’t return from the rescue they were called to until near the end of his shift, so he only has to avoid Tommy and Nancy. With the former holed up in her office doing incident reports and Nancy reading in the common area, he is able to find refuge in the bunk room trying to rest and hoping that the alarms don’t go off again while he counts down the minutes until end of shift.

His prayers are answered once the second hand on his watch clicks past the hour and he’s officially off duty.

It doesn’t take long for a text to come through from Carlos that he’s outside the station waiting to pick him up. TK smiles to himself at the thought that his boyfriend was probably also counting down until the end of TK’s shift and was itching to see him as soon as possible, hence why he showed up at the 126. It’s a gesture TK has grown used to in the nearly a year that they’ve been together.

He forgoes changing out of his uniform, whether that’s because he’s anxious to see Carlos or he knows it would cause too much pain is unclear. Instead, he quietly slips out of the bunkroom and exits the station before anyone can spot him.

“Hey,” Carlos greets him with a warm smile while leaning against the side of his Camaro.

“Hey yourself.”

TK approaches Carlos, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips before Carlos pulls him into a hug. Though he tries not to blackout from the pain and to focus instead on inhaling the familiar scent of Carlos’ laundry detergent, he cannot hide the involuntary wince of as his body contracts out of pain.

Carlos quickly pulls away, scanning him up and down. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” TK nervously laughs and gives him a thin smile. “It’s nothing.”

“TK,” Carlos gives him a pointed look and before TK can stop him, Carlos is pulling up his shirt. His eyes widen as he takes in the bruising which has only continued to grow in the time since TK had last checked.

“It looks worse than it is.”

Carlos scowls, clearly not believing him. “Did you get checked out?”

“No. Well, it happened near the end of my shift and I figured that if I could just wait it out…” he trails off, shifting uncomfortably.

Carlos shakes his head before pulling TK’s shirt back down and grabbing his hand. He doesn’t say a word until they are back inside the truck bay, scanning the area until he locks eyes with Nancy exiting from the common area, on her way out of the station.

“Nancy, do you mind hanging back a sec and taking a look at TK? He got hurt on shift but didn’t want to tell any of you.”

Nancy’s eyes dart between the two of them before she drops her bag and ushers TK over to the back of the ambulance. He wordlessly follows and eases himself down onto the back bench, grimacing in pain now that there’s no reason to hide it.

At Carlos’ nod, he slides his shirt over his head, revealing the full extent of his bruised chest to both Carlos and Nancy.

“What the fuck, Strand?” Nancy exclaims as her eyes go wide. “When did this happen?”

“Remember when I said the ice was slippery…”

Nancy curses again under her breath before turning to Carlos. “Can you go grab Captain Vega? If she hasn’t left yet, I think we’re going to be making one more trip to the hospital today.”

“That’s really not necessary. Carlos can just drive me there. Right, babe?”

Carlos looks between him and Nancy, seemingly unsure of what his place is in this moment. “I’m staying out of this one. But I do agree Tommy needs to know.”

He disappears up the stairs, leaving TK and Nancy in a moment of awkward silence.

TK knows he should say something. Explain what had happened exactly and why he didn’t speak up before. Even though their relationship had gotten off to a rocky start, TK now considers her one of his closest friends. And it’s clear she feels the same about him, caring deeply that he’s injured. Especially after what had happened to Tim, he feels bad to be causing his partner this much stress.

But he lacks the words to properly communicate that so they sit in silence and wait for Carlos to return with Tommy. They don’t have to wait long as the pair arrives a few moments later.

“So, you want to tell me what happened here, Strand?” Tommy asks, taking a seat next to TK to start her assessment.

“The ice betrayed me,” he says, earning pointed looks from all three of his friends. He shakes his head before continuing, “I slipped on the ice after you and Nancy left. Might’ve cracked a few ribs.”

Tommy hums in agreement as she runs her fingers along his chest, earning a few painful hisses from TK. “Yeah, I’d have to agree with that assessment. Alright, up on the gurney you go.”

TK opens his mouth to argue but Tommy gives him a look usually only reserved for her daughters when they try to talk their way out of going to bed early. So he quickly closes his mouth and lets his shoulders sag. “Yes, Cap.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile and assists him in getting settled onto the gurney. It’s an unspoken agreement that Carlos is welcome to ride along, with him making himself comfortable on the bench next to TK. They lock eyes and Carlos grabs his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Nancy’s worried eyes also don’t leave TK. Tommy must notice because she quickly offers to drive, leaving the three of them in the back before anyone can say otherwise.

“I’m really sorry I scared you both,” TK says to Carlos and Nancy after a few beats of silence.

“I hate to say I’m used to it but,” Carlos lets out a light chuckle. “I’m always going to worry about you though. But, I am glad you’re okay today and I just wish you could get it out of your stubborn head that it’s okay to ask for help from your teammates. It’s kind of what they're trained to do.”

“Yeah, I know,” TK casts his gaze down unsurely before meeting Nancy’s eye. The other paramedic had yet to say a word and the apology was for her as much as it was for Carlos.

A small smile forms on her face. “Yeah, what he said. If you could at least try to go a few weeks without getting hurt next time, I would really appreciate it.”

“Okay, deal,” he extends his hand as far as he can without putting too much strain on his ribs for her to shake. Despite how much he tries, the motion does still provide a painful reminder of his injuries and he can’t hide the grimace that forms on his face.

Nancy gives his hand a quick shake before placing his hand back at his side. “Easy there, dude.”

He shoots her a quick smile before locking eyes with Carlos again, grateful to have two people who care about him by his side.

#badthingshappenbingo #911 lone star #broken ribs #bad things happen bingo #my fic #tuserpaige #pragmaticoptimist34 #reyeslonestartag #userbones #usersaaya #idk who to tag in fics anymore sorry #911lonestarfic

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dangerouslyallaboutdraco · 3 years

Text

Story of us

A/n: Angsty, post-Hogwarts and slightly r13 towards the end.

The history between Y/n and Draco was... complicated. There was something between them that their friends just couldn't understand. On paper there was no reason for them to dislike each other as much as they did, she was a pureblood Slytherin who grew up very similarly to him and also had to change her views like Draco did after the war.

They shared trauma and multiple parallel life experiences but they just didn't get along. Pansy and Daphne never got it, why Y/n had that look of disgust on her face once Draco finished talking.

Blaise and Theo thought it would get better after they left Hogwarts and didn't spend all their free time together, but still, Draco rolled his eyes whenever she walked into the room.

Now they were adults in the wide world, jobs, partners but the tightknit friend group stayed close. Friday nights were always time they spent together, reserved for clubbing or a pub night out or even sitting on Blaise and Pansy's living room floor.

Tonight it was the latter. With a G and T (her favourite muggle alcohol) in her hand, Y/n sat on their couch next to Pansy who had had a lot more than her to drink.

Just as the boys had taken out their hidden stash of weed, Y/n spoke up. "I'm going to go outside." It wasn't that she was opposed to weed, she just didn't like the smell and the boys always insisted on smoking so much they couldn't see out the windows.

Blaise and Pansy's apartment had a beautiful wrap-around balcony. While Y/n and Draco were both fair wealthier, they both received substantial graduation gifts that went a long way to getting an apartment in a good part of London.

They had been together since the last year of Hogwarts, all of their friends watching them slowly grow closer over the year until they realised they were in love.

It was beautiful and while 17-year-old Y/n envied them, she always wanted to speak at their wedding.

As soon as she opened the balcony door the still night air hit her. While it was colder than inside, the sweet smell of the summer air made it a nice contrast.

The sun was just setting in the distance and the sky was the most beautiful golden, pink colour. It was the time Y/n always liked to look out her window at during the war, knowing there was peacefulness at the end of the day always made the long days feel slightly better. The way the warm light danced over the water, dancing on the walls of the usually dark dormitory.

Standing out on the balcony, where the world was right and falling into place felt a lot better. Like nothing could get her down.

She was off in her own world, not noticing when Draco opened the sliding door and walked out next to her.

"Shit Draco!" She shrieked once he put his hand on her lower back. She ignored the tingling feeling in her stomach as she glared at him.

Draco stepped closer to her, maybe too close for her liking. "You could really do with some weed to chill out." He told her, holding the joint closer to her face. "This stuff is the shit, just fresh from my guy." He continued to tell her.

Maybe she would have been interested in Draco if he were less cocky, less rude and a bit more sensitive. Something in his bad-boy image had developed over the year that meant she liked him less.

"Do you always insist on speaking like a druggy?" Y/n asked him, watching him carefully as he looked over the railing with his joint.

He retaliated quickly. "Do you always insist on being such a tight ass, Miss Goody-two-shoes?" He couldn't understand why she always seemed to spoil their fun, ever since they were sorted into Slytherin.

She just rolled her eyes at him and stared out into the distance. While he was no longer disturbing her silence he was still disturbing her peace and alone time.

She didn't feel like arguing with him either, it was just too much effort. Draco stood there, smoking his joint while Y/n gazed at the skyline.

“Why are you even out here?” Y/n snapped at him, suddenly feeling annoyed by the smell of his smoking.

“Because I can be, what even is your problem with me?” He was definitely going to find out how she felt now, pushing her to the limits made her snappy.

She rolled her eyes at him, obviously annoyed. “We faced pretty much all of the same challenges in life, but you just became a failure and it really annoys me.”

“Well, you’re just a slut who hooked up with several guys at school, none of which liked you for any reason other than your body.” Draco’s words did hurt her quite a bit, it wasn’t like she didn’t know he hated her but hearing him say that the people she’d been intimate with never actually cared for her hurt.

“Fuck off, Draco.” She told him, carefully.

The look on his face showed her that he was not going to stop for a second. “Just because you don’t like the truth, bitch.”

“Just leave me alone.” She told him, turning away.

Draco couldn’t stop winding her up now, it just brought him too much amusement. “Or what, Y/l/n, will you sleep with me like you did every other guy?”

Y/n turned around and put her hand up to slap Draco’s cheek. It wasn’t as hard as she could have hit him but it was the hardest she ever hit anyone. There was a loud sound as her palm contacted his face.

Still stunned and with her hand in mid-air, Draco snatched her wrist. There they were standing in a face-off, Draco’s slim finger wrapped around her wrist and suddenly there was not one sound. Both of them staring into each other’s eyes. Although Y/n felt threatened, never one to back down from a challenge she scrutinized his eyes.

Draco was seeing red, his least favourite of all the colours. He was like a bull staring down where he was going to charge. The colour of hatred, blood, anger and passion.

The passion she felt for him, it was surging from where he was touching her. He was the energy source that filled her usually with range but now it was amour fou.

In a moment Draco released his grip on her hand and moved his hands to her cheeks. Unlike his prior roughness, his thumb stroked along her cheekbones softly and carefully like he was afraid to break her as he lay his fingers under her jawline.

His softness was a complete shock to Y/n who was still gazing into his eyes. The cold fingertips were more gentle than she’d ever expected, dancing across her jawline with such care. She wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced a touch this delicate.

There they stayed for a few moments, taking each other in. Both of their minds were on the other, brains frenzied trying to figure out how this had happened. Draco was sure he was infatuated with her perfume, obsessed over the perfect blend of coconut and vanilla that was all he could focus on.

Before either of them could think about the consequences their lips were pressed together in a heated kiss. The passion radiated off them, electricity circuiting through them. And it finally felt, for both of them, that every little puzzle piece fit.

Eventually they lips parted, their eyes flickering open. Draco was an inch from her face, not believing just how beautiful she was. He held his hands on her face tighter not wanting to let her slip out of his grip.

“Draco Malfoy, I am 100% in love with you.” Y/n slowly let out. She’d just kissed her arch-enemy so there was no point in not being truthful.

He smirked, that cute little smirk that had only ever annoyed her from across the common room. “Damn it, y/l/n!” He exclaimed with mock anger. “Now we’re going to tell our kids that mum said ‘I love you’ first.” It was odd for Y/n to see him like that as they were usually at each other’s throats. And now he was thinking about their very distant future.

She smiled to match his. “Just tell me it back, you dork.”

“I am 110% in love with you.” Draco counted. “Do you want to come back to my place?”

Y/n’s face turned to worry. “This isn’t a joke, is it?” Usually, this isn’t the type of shit he would pull but she’d never know.

“No, no, no.” His fingers were back stroking her cheeks. “I am really sorry about what I said, believe me, I’ll never say something like that again.”

Something in Y/n knew he wasn’t lying. There was no chance he didn’t feel the same passion he did in the kiss. “Well, you could take me to dinner before you try and get into my panties.”

Draco let out a light laugh, blowing air right onto her face. “Whoever said I wanted to do that, you flirt?”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to fuck me.” The chemistry between them was electric and hot. The pair looking into each other's eyes with desire.

“Let’s go before I do you right here.” Y/n looked at him with challenging eyebrows. “Do you need me to prove it?”

Y/n pulled back from his grip on her face, leaving Draco standing there like an idiot. “Hurry up then.” She said, looking back over her shoulder with a smile as she went to open the patio door.

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sserpente · 4 years

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A/N: Requests from two anons. No crying involved but definitely an anxiety-inducing situation for RC if that makes any sense. Enjoy! ♥

Words: 2118 Warnings: brief mention of past abusive relationship, attempted rape

“Honey, don’t you think you have enough candy by now? Who’s gonna eat all that?”

“Me!” Your niece stuck out her tongue as she half-walked, half-jumped through one of the many dimly-lit hallways. Her pumpkin basket was full to the brim already but, as you had suspected, there was no stopping her. You did not mind. You weren’t exactly keen on the annual Dauntless Halloween party in the pit. Lots of alcohol, sweaty bodies and so much fake blood it would take you weeks to get it all out of your clothes, off of your body and your hair. You didn’t hate Halloween, in fact you loved it. But you would rather curl up on the sofa in your tiny apartment reading a good book instead of drinking yourself into a coma.

Your niece looked unbelievably cute in her witch costume. Long ginger hair stuck out from under the pointy hat with the fluffy spider sitting on top. She’d had a little black broom as well—and you were not surprised you had had to keep carrying it after only three apartments already.

She was bound to get tired soon, so you kept telling yourself. You could already see yourself becoming a blanket burrito with a steaming mug full of hot chocolate and some of the leftover sweets you yourself had bought for the other children prior to trick or treating with your niece. You were so lost in thought that you only realised too late she had already started at the next apartment door and gave it a vigorous knock.

“Honey, no, not this one!” Shit. Only a few heartbeats later, the door opened.

“Trick or Treat!” She cried out. She was grinning as she held out her pumpkin basket, waiting patiently for her next victim to give her even more sweets. Only the person who had opened her hardly seemed impressed and instead raised an eyebrow at her. Eric used one of his muscly arms to lean against the threshold, his gaze wandering back and forth between your niece and you.

No one ever dared to knock on Eric’s door, presuming he would breathe down their neck for even considering he would give out candy to enthusiastic little children. Unfortunately, your niece did not know that.

Eventually, his gaze came to rest on you.

“I am so sorry, she was too fast.”

“What happened to your face?” He asked instead of reacting to your half-hearted apology. Oh, right. Embarrassed, you felt your cheeks turning crimson red. You had let your niece put some Halloween make-up on you. There was a giant spider with big orange eyes sitting on your right cheek while she had decorated the left with a black spider web. One thing was for sure, your niece would not become the next Picasso.

“Nothing… my niece thought we should match.” And perhaps next Halloween, she should turn you into a mouse so you could hide in a mouse hole to save yourself from Eric’s scrutinising—and now also downright amused—glance. There was a slight hint of mockery sparkling in his blue eyes as well, so you noticed when he stirred.

“Let me see if I can find something.” Oh. That was unexpected. As he disappeared, leaving his apartment door open, you just stood there dumbfounded all the while your niece tripped on the spot all carefree and blithe. This wasn’t really happening, was it? This was literally your nightmare before Christmas!

About a minute later, Eric returned. In his hands, he held a massive bar of Hershey’s chocolate. It was one of those treats only the leaders of Dauntless were privileged enough to receive every now and then. Your niece’s jaw dropped, eyes widening.

“There you go. You think you’ll be able to carry that?”

“Yes! I’m strong!” She pointed out, emphasising her words by making a muscle with her free arm. “Thank you!” As soon as she had accepted the chocolate, she was already off to the next apartment door. Only you still stood there, seemingly frozen in place.

“Uh… thank you.” You managed to choke out sheepishly.

“You’re welcome…” He mumbled in response. “I’ll see you at the party later.” And with that, he closed the door on you, once again leaving you standing there completely dumbfounded.

You had seen him around on Halloween. Eric never dressed up. Instead, he spent the night sitting at the bar all by himself, occasionally chatting to his fellow leaders and sipping some whiskey—completely unimpressed by his fellow Dauntless members’ craziness and excessive alcohol consumption. In that aspect, he was pretty much like you.

You spent the rest of your niece’s trick or treating pondering over his words. You were certainly overthinking it but what exactly had he meant by that? Did he expect you to show up? You had not planned on going. Would it be rude not to show up now? Jesus, it wasn’t like he had asked you out on a date. Eric was merely not as cold and condescending towards you than to others, perhaps because you always made an effort to be nice and polite to him, especially during your initiation.

And yet, once your niece was returned to your sister and you finally rid yourself of all that make-up on your face, you found yourself picking out something to wear to the party. It was almost like your hot chocolate, book and blanket sighed when you left your apartment and headed to the pit instead.

Halloween was on a full moon this year. Maybe you were going crazy. What were you even expecting? In the end, you settled for wanting to prove to Eric that you were a social person who would not curl up all alone on a day like Halloween—that you were tough; that you were Dauntless.

But you were beginning to regret your decision as soon as you reached the pit. Exuberant laughter and chatting along with loud music nearly blew your ears off, the smell of sweat and alcohol immediately numbing your senses. You coughed a little as you started fighting your way through the dancing crowd, your legs stirring you towards the bar almost automatically. Yep, definitely crazy, you thought to yourself.

At least your make-up was a little more on fleek now. You had gone for a mysterious vamp-look, with smoky eyes and dark-red lipstick, a black dress and your knee-high combat boots to complete your appearance. You felt quite sexy but then again, nothing could quite compete with some cosy pumpkin pyjamas.

“Hey, sweetheart… Can I buy you a drink?” Great. There went another reason for which you hated parties like that. Glancing to your left from the corner of your eye, you spotted an already tipsy man dressed up like a zombie approaching you.

“No, thank you. I can pay for it myself.”

“Don’t have to. I’ll pay for it if you’ll dance with me.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated, a little louder and sterner this time. But instead of letting it go, the man stepped right in front of you. He looked still young, probably among the new recruits who had recently passed initiation.

“What are you so scared of? It’s just a drink.” Only ‘just a drink’ was usually accompanied by the expectation of more than just dancing. You were not wary because of prejudice. You were wary because of personal experience in your old faction and an abusive ex-boyfriend.

“Come on, Drake.” The young man joining him was dressed like a zombie as well. They had done well with their make-up. They were nearly unrecognisable. “It’s not your fault you look like a troll. Allow me to buy the lady a drink.”

Annoyed, you rolled your eyes. “I appreciate it but I don’t want either of you to buy me a drink. Let me through, please.” Perhaps you should go find your friends.

Oh, it had been such a stupid idea to ditch hot chocolate and your warm blanket for this, for Eric. But whatever had gotten into you, you were too stubborn to accept the consequences. Only when you attempted to move past them, they cornered you. Two warm bodies pressed against you, one from the front, one from behind. You shuddered when their hands made a move to wander up and down your arms and waist, moving to the rhythm of the ear-piercing music—and even though everything inside of you screamed to lash out at them and make use of your combat skills, you forced yourself to keep calm.

“Let go of me, you scumbags.” You hissed. You’d give them ten seconds at most. If they did not let go of you until then you would kick the shit out of them. One, two, three…

“You’re in Dauntless, act like it.” They were not entirely wrong, so you hated to admit. The majority of men and women here in Dauntless made no secret out of their countless one-nightstands. Sneaking off and making out in semi-public places was risky, reckless and brave all at the same time—even your friends had told you about the adrenaline rush.

Four, five, six…

“She said no.” A stern voice suddenly came to your rescue. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to. Eric stood like a particularly intimidating bouncer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body as he positioned himself behind you with his arms crossed.

“Eric! Come join us. We should take this happy ensemble to a quieter place. Ever had a foursome, love?”

“She said no. Take your hands off her before I rip them out and throw them down the chasm. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’ve passed initiation now.”

“Geez, spoilsport. Come on, Drake.”

“I was about to handle this myself.” You hastened to explain when they finally staggered off, lifting your chin up in a proud and independent manner. Eric slightly raised his eyebrows. Well, at least the reason for your presence at this uncomfortable party was here now.

“I know.” Apparently, he’d been headed for the bar as well. With your heart in your mouth, you found yourself following him until you finally reached your destination and asked the barkeeper for a cold beer. Eric went with his traditional whiskey.

“You’re shaking.” He remarked, arms crossed on the counter.

“I’m cold.”

“Cold? This is a sauna. You were afraid of what they might do to you.” He said matter-of-factly and oddly, without any hint of scorn in his voice. The urge to react all defensive overwhelmed you nonetheless.

“So? I went through one abusive relationship, I’m not keen on going through that again because some arseholes believe I have to have one-nightstands for the sake of being Dauntless.”

Eric hummed; in silent agreement, probably. For a brief moment, he was still. You took the time to take a few eager sips from your beer. At least that compensated you a little for relinquishing Halloween night as a blanket burrito.

“Your face looks better than before.” He said then.

“Yeah… thanks. I told my niece begged me to do my make-up for her candy hunt. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

The Dauntless leader smirked. “I take it you did not intend for her to knock on my door.”

“No.” No one ever does, you added quietly.

“Well, she seems tough. She should stay in Dauntless once she’s old enough to choose.” He paused.

“I hope so too. ‘Faction before blood’ only sounds easy.”

“Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall. I’m going for a run.” He suddenly commented out of the blue. Your eyes widened. Excuse me?

“Huh?” Frowning, you studied his face, searching for the joke you quite apparently did not understand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eric raised his eyebrows once more. “Was I being unclear?”

“Well, no but—“ There was one thing you knew about Eric for certain. You did not defy him. Ever. There was a part of you which wanted to, simply out of spite but the other… the other had dragged you all the way to this party merely because Eric had suggested to ‘see you there’. Heavens, was this really happening? Was the most fearful Dauntless leader of them all actually taking an interest in you? Should you thank your niece for being the trigger… or damn her?

“Good,” He interrupted you harshly, “Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall.” When you said nothing, too flabbergasted to even respond, he simply downed his whiskey and ordered a new one. Well, Happy Halloween to you. It honestly seemed like this was going to be a promising night after all.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#eric divergent #eric divergent imagine #eric divergent x you #eric divergent x reader #eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x you #eric coulter x reader #divergent #divergent imagine #dauntless #dauntless imagine #jai courtney

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unabashegirl · 4 years

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“What are you doing up?”

Author’s note: How is this man REAL? I still don’t understand how God could have ever created someone so beautiful...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

SEND YOUR REQUESTS!

masterlist

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WORD COUNT: 3.8K

italics are flashbacks!

The warm-toned colors of sunrise filtered through the tall, windows leading out to the balcony. The reflection of the sun against the ocean illuminated their quiet bedroom. They had forgotten to shut the blinds and pull down the blackout of the room. Hence, why Y/N’s face was completely exposed to the soft afternoon light. Consequently, waking her up from her slumber.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she processed her surroundings and woke the rest of her body. She covered her mouth as she yawned and stretched out her back and limps. She rolled over, facing upwards as her hands pushed her hair out of the way. She admired the beautiful and probably very expensive chandelier that hung from the ceiling. She hasn't noticed it before, but how could she? The last forty-eight hours had been hectic and all over the place but incredibly dreamy.

She was still flushed when she had arrived home that afternoon. Her hair was still slightly damp even though her work out had ended forty minutes ago. She had stopped for groceries because her boyfriend was coming back from an extensive work trip. Y/N had planned to cook his favorite meal and cozy up on the couch while he reminisced about the trip. Her plan was short-lived when she opened the door of her apartment and found him waiting for her by the entrance.

She immediately dropped the bags by the entrance and threw her body on his. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, not even flinching at the loud sound of her sunglasses hitting the hardwood floor.

”yeh miss me, lovey?” Harry’s big smile splattered on his face, the same smile that she has always praised and adored since the very first day. She squeezed his cheeks while peppering kisses all over his face after a long waited passionate kiss.

”This is ticklish” Y/N referred to the stubble that he had grown since he had felt. ”How do you manage to make everything attractive?” She mumbles as Harry stares down at her with adoration.

”I could ask you the same, love” His own hands running down the sides of her tight workout clothes. ”I’ve missed you so much” He had grown accustomed to sleeping next to her; touring and sleeping in different hotel rooms on his own — had become a challenge. He hated it, but he loved it too. He loved that he had become so attached to her that he missed her presence. He didn't have to touch her. Harry missed the faint smell of her Chanel perfume scattered on the pillows and comforter. He just liked knowing that was beside him and close by. It brought him serenity.

“Me too” On the other hand, she had missed hearing him hum and sing in the shower. She had missed waking up to him in the kitchen, making fresh coffee, in a white towel, barefoot with wet hair. ”Are you hungry?” Y/N asked remembering the whole reason why she hadn't been home earlier. She pulled away to go pick up the bags by the entrance.

”I am” Harry stands back and watches her bent down, taking his time to admire her body and appearance. ”Have you been doing squats or something?” he bluntly asks after noticing her bottom looked rounder than last time. Y/N giggled and shook her head before standing straight back up.

”Nothing gets past you, does it?”

”at least nothing that has to do with you” He took the bags from her before she could take any further steps. ”you didn't answer my question” Harry yelled back from the kitchen while she locked the front door.

”I am. Just wanted it to be nicer” She shrugged as she walked into the kitchen and found him taking the groceries out of the bags. She also had read a few comments on an Instagram profile that posted about celebrity couples. They picked her apart and criticized every single inch of her body. She had felt pretty shitty for a few days, but she would never tell Harry. After all, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be reading comments. Harry had always warned her.

”Trust me. It was already nice,” he added. There he was again, uplifting her and making her feel flawless. It has been two years since they met at an event in Los Angeles through mutual friends and she still didn't get used to cheeky yet sweet comments.

”How was LA?” The night they met, Y/N had just gone for a drink after being pressured by her friend. It was a party at a small intimate bar with a bunch of celebrities. To this day, she still doesn't know what the party was celebrating.

”It was fine. I saw a few of our friends. They asked about you” As a matter of fact, they seemed slightly disappointed that she wasn’t accompanying him. His friends preferred her, but he didn’t care. He also preferred her. Harry was the first to approach the night they first met. After seeing her standing by the bar looking lonely. One of his terrible jokes was enough to break the ice and cause her to smile.

”I guess I'll have to visit more often” She liked traveling with Harry, but the tour was just around the corner. Therefore, she needed to straighten everything out before departing. “I was thinking of making your favorite meal” Harry looked up to her, biting his lips with a slight frown. ”What?”.

”Change of plans. You are going to go upstairs and pack a bag” He ordered her as he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter. Then it was Y/N’s turn to frown.

”A bag? For what? What do I pack? Where are we going? You just got here,” She bombarded him with questions. Harry very mischievously, shrugged then leaned over to grab one of the fresh bananas that she had just bought.

”Can’t tell you, lovey. Just go change and pack” He had it all planned. He had started to come up with it before he left for America. He had to move a lot of pieces around for it to work without drawing any suspicion to his master plan. His trip to LA had given him more time to work on the minor details without being questioned.

”What should I pack?” She was surprised at the abrupt change of plans, but Harry never disappointed. Therefore, she trusted him and would comply.

”Your everyday clothes and bathing suits, maybe a dress” His bag was already packed; his assistant had made sure of it. He usually packed his clothes, but because of the short time frame that they had, they didn't want to take any risks. ”do I have to carry yeh?” Harry asked since she still hadn't moved.

”No!” She giggled as he took a warning step towards her. ”I’ll be right back” Harry smiled after her, while she packed he took the time to make himself something quick to eat since he was starving.

Harry was surprisingly still sleeping. His lips slightly parted as soft snores escaped his mouth now and then. His tattooed arm hung over her waist. His head tucked in the back of her neck, his tattooed chest pressed against her back, radiating heat like an oven. It explained the reason why she only wore underwear to sleep. At some point in their relationship, she had started waking up with a thin layer of sweat covering her body. It was Harry who had suggested her change of sleeping attire after he refused to stop cuddling her.

Y/N gently took his arm off her body making sure she didn’t disrupt his sleep. Along with the tour, press, interviews, and shows came his anxiety and sleep deprivation. He always managed to hide it, but she knew that he struggled. Therefore, the fact that she had woken up before him was a pleasant surprise and that she wasn’t willing to ruin.

She was quick to observe that she could do some minutes under the sun as she stood before the bathroom’s mirror. Y/N twisted her body sideways just to get a better look at her physique. Harry’s fingers mark printed all over her thighs, as well as the scattered hickeys on her chest, were a reminder of their night. She reached back and grabbed a bathrobe off the hook to hide her nakedness.

“Are you excited?” He asked her as he opened the trunk of the rental car that they would use for the entire trip. He still had a few surprises under his sleeve, he was just waiting for the right time to reveal the rest.

On the other hand, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling, her cheeks had started hurting minutes after he had revealed the destination of their spontaneous trip.

“Are you kidding?” She squeaked as she watched his muscles tense up under the shirt that he had opted to wear. Harry chuckled as he strategically placed her suitcase first in the trunk. He had rented out a convertible which he sort of regretted now, due to the lack of space. “What brought this on?”.

“I just thought it would be nice. We haven’t spent as much time as I would’ve liked to” He added a shrug as he took his duffle bag from her and squeezing it in before shutting it close. “My work has gotten in the way of many things” She instantly knew what specific occasion he was referring too. Harry had missed her master’s graduation in child psychology a few weeks ago. Her mom had Facetimed him when her name was called and he had seen her disappointment throughout the rest of the night. He had tried his best to catch a flight to make it in time, but his work commitments had gotten in the way.

“Harry Edward Styles” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned against the side of the car. She gently gripped his jaw, forcing his sight on hers. “Stop beating yourself over it” Sure, she had felt lonely that night without him by her side, but she could never blame him. “I love every single bit of you and everything that comes along. Including your work because that means I get to hear and watch you do what you love the most” The corners of his lips curved upwards, revealing his dimples. She kissed them gently after her eyes drifted down to them.

“I love you the most” Harry whispered with his eyes slightly hooded, enamored by the words that had just come out of her enticing mouth. He gave her a quick yet breathless kiss just in case reporters were watching them.

It was the perfect day in Italy. The sun shone brightly, high in the sky. There were no clouds threatening the day with any signs of rain. The streets were crowded with tourists and locals. At first, Harry resisted the urge to pull the top of the car down since they were still in the center of Rome. The last thing he wanted was to get recognized and mobbed on his Italian vacation with the love of his life. He had made arrangements for his most trusted bodyguard to travel with them. Harry wanted to keep everything as intimate as possible. He had done it before when he had traveled to Jamaica and Japan. Therefore why couldn't he do it again this time around — he wondered.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked as she noticed that the scenery had changed and it seemed more rural. Harry winked at her at night before pushing on the gas. “We aren’t staying in Rome, are we?”.

“Of course not” He kept a smirk on his face as he pulled the top of the car off as soon as they were out of the city.

She couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous and sweet man that she had grown to love unconditionally. His silky, dark brown hair like grass in the wind. She could stare for hours his chiseled face. His prominent and clenched jawline seemed to be sculped by Greek gods. The slight stubble that he had grown on his chin and upper lip gave him a more carefree and relaxed complexion. She left slightly disappointed that his gorgeous eyes were blocked by his classic, Gucci sunglasses.

“Yeh staring again, darlin” His rough voice, didn’t stop her from admiring him. She unbuckled herself from her seat then leaned in and planted a kiss against his tan skin. “I love you” Harry momentarily looked over at her before looking back at the road.

“Goodmorning” Y/N whispered as she opened the door wider for the hotel employer to bring the room service that she had ordered only minutes ago.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N” He smiled at the young woman before rolling in the table, filled with different breakfast foods and drinks. “Is here alright? Or would you like by the balcony?”. He suggested knowing that tourists loved having their first meal of the day with the view.

“The balcony sounds lovely — if it’s not too much to ask” She felt slightly guilty to make him set up outside.

“It would be my pleasure” Y/N quickly walked behind him as he pushed the car pass the entrance hall and living room of their hotel room. He kept his head up making sure not to knock anything or the floor or make a mess. He stopped right by the entrance to the balcony and carefully stared setting up the table. The young man had obviously heard that Harry Styles and his girlfriend were staying on the top floor. He hadn’t played too much attention to it like the rest of his work colleagues. If Harry Styles was in fact staying with them was because he wanted privacy, peace, and quiet— away from the spotlight and the fans. He was not going to mess it up. For this particular reason, he was picked out of the bunch to bring their breakfast when his girlfriend had called. “You are all set up Ms. Y/L/N”.

“Thank you…” Y/N looked down as his name tag then gave him a big smile, “...Luca’

“buon appetito” He smiled back as he started walking his way back to the entrance.

“Luca, what’s the best thing to do around here besides going to the beach?” They had wanted to do something out of the ordinary. The town where they were staying was pretty small which meant they could easily walk the streets and actually get to experience the Italian culture.

“You can visit the gardens,” He said after a few minutes of thinking. “Do you like cooking?” Y/N instantly perked up, nodding with a big smile. “Then you can take a cooking class. I could set it up for you, just give us a call downstairs and I’ll take care of it”.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you Luca” Y/N made sure to tip him before he left her alone in the hotel room. She sat outside, wrapped in the bathrobe, holding a fresh cup of coffee to her lips while staring out into the Almifi coast. Everything looked just as beautiful as last night.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked as he walked to the small balcony that they had in their bedroom. They had arrived four hours ago to their final destination. They had immediately changed into bathing suits and made use of their private pool. They ditched the pool as they started noticing the commence of the sunset. The couple decided to take on the streets of the small town for dinner. Ravello is a small town off the Almafi Coast. It is a hidden treasure with one of the best views of the ocean. It was perfect for their stay.

“Like twenty minutes ago” She wore a short, silky, olive dress with a pair of white sneakers — too lazy to walk on heels through the rocky, inclined streets of Revello. The thin straps of her dress weren’t wide enough to hide the slight tan lines that she had to manage to obtain with only a few hours under the sun. Harry loved seeing tan lines on her delicate skin. He hated it when she refused to get them by untying the back of her bikini. The olive tone of her dress made her skin more tempting.

“I am starving” he pouted as she intertwined their fingers.

“What are you craving?” They had to make a tough choice to make —both being lovers of Italian cuisine.

“Everything” He chuckled as they walked out of their suite. “I am thinking pasta”.

“I don’t know. Pizza sounds so good” Harry groans at the through of an authentic slice of Italian pizza.

“I hope you know that we are sharing tonight. I am having some of your pizza”.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said as they got on the elevator.

“Yeh are such a meanie” Harry pouted once again before the doors close.

“Fuck I am stuffed” Harry exhales as he leans back on his seat. Y/N giggled as she tried to digest all the food that they had just stuffed their faces with. “But it was so worth it” He beams after wiping the corners of his mouth with the napkin. The night had gone according to plan. They had talked for hours as if they didn’t know one another. No one had recognized him except for the waiter who was a bit starstruck, but either way, respected their privacy.

“I think you are going to have to carry me back” She reached down and patted the small tummy that she had developed in the course of dinner. Her dress felt tight against her skin. She was sure that one more bite of food would tear her dress apart. Harry laughed softly at her cute tummy.

“Let’s go for a walk. It might help us” He was tempted to unbutton his high waisted pants. He was first on his feet, then reached out for her.

“That was delicious. Thank you, baby” She kissed him as they made their way down the street towards their hotel. She couldn’t wait to fall asleep by the sound of the waves crashing by the shore. It was all so soothing. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders as they made their way through the town square.

“There is something I would like us to talk about” Harry confessed as they came across the entrance to the public beach. “Should we walk on the beach?” As her mind wondered what he could possibly be wanting to talk about, Harry kneeled down and helped take her sneakers off after his shoes.

The sand was still slightly warm from the day. They walked right by the water, close enough to slightly wet their feet, but far enough not get bite by anything in the darkness. There was always something very eerie of the never-ending darkness of the ocean. It seemed scary yet mysterious.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N blurted out as she stopped walking after a few minutes of complete quietness. She could sense something was bothering him. Harry unwrapped himself away from her and faced her. Momentarily making her scared that he was actually ending things.

“How could you possibly think that?” He frowned, “Do you remember that night in Japan?” It took her a few minutes to finally figure out what particular night he was talking about. He had gone to Japan two months ago to finish off a song. She had stayed in England after getting a ridiculous virus from a coworker.

“Yeah— what about it?” Harry exhaled as he thought of that night.

“You stayed up with me. You had a high fever” He had been stuck in the studio for hours and had decided to Facetime her. He had started to feel the pressure of writing an impeccable album for the fans. Harry felt like he was cracking under pressure. According to him, all the music was starting to sound like shit. He wanted to check on her, but also get distracted.

“Well yeah. You needed me. You weren’t feeling well” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. He smiled widely at her, shaking his head at her obliviousness. “I don’t get it” Y/N giggled pulling at her bottom lip with her head slightly tilted to the side.

“You still don’t see it!” He exhaled, running his hands through his hair. “You were the one sick and you are so selfless that you stayed up with me just because I wasn’t feeling like emotionally well. Even though you were the one with a fever” He sighted trying to gather all his thoughts at once. “Everything with you, it’s so easy. I miss you all the time. I hate leaving you alone and I especially hate that you still haven’t moved in with me. I’ve also never been such a jealous man as I am now. I can’t stand the thought of someone else holding you, looking at you, let alone kissing you,” He looked up at her trying to decipher her emotions. “You never hung up that night after you fell asleep. I stayed with you on the phone. That was the night that I realized that what I have with you, I don’t want it with anyone else” His hand reached back and pulled the small box from his pocket. He kneeled down before she could say or have any sort of reaction to his proposal. “Would you marry me, lovey?”.

“What are you doing up?” Harry’s raspy voice, almost causes her to spill the cup of hot coffee over her white bathrobe. He leaned over her and gave her a minty fresh kiss. “I woke up and you weren’t there” He added after sitting across from her.

“I thought you would like to wake up to some breakfast” Harry smiled as he uncovered his plate of freshly made food. She had of course ordered his favorite.

“What with the Italian sun on you, that makes you so irresistible?” Harry asked as he spreads jelly on his toasts. It was his turn to gawk at her. She hadn’t properly tied her bathtub around. Therefore it was slipping off one of her shoulders, showing him the collarbones that he loved kissing. Her lips were slightly swollen and a few freckles had appeared from the sunbathing session from yesterday.

“Stop” She laughed as she placed her coffee mug on the table. Harry took a few bites off his toast before taking a sip out of his tea with a constant smug smile.

“Last night when you were ridding me, only wearing the ring — it was a sight to behold” He added knowing exactly how to make her blush.

“Harry!” Y/N exclaimed as she covered her flushed face with her hands. Harry erupted into heavy laughter as he stared at the woman that he would soon be marrying with love from across the table.

----

HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

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americasass81 · 3 years

Text

Make Her Mine - Chapter Five

{Warnings:- 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex, Spanking, Attempted Suffocation, Anal, Use of Inanimate Object, Swearing, Implied Breeding, Oral (male & female receiving), Brief Mention of Real People, Spitting}. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting.

This contains adult themes and by proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

A/N: Okay so I know it's been a while since we last checked in here but life and story block decided to pay me a visit. At least the good news is I got the whole thing finished (will never reveal how I beat the block though😂). Hope you all enjoy it. Feedback is welcomed.

Pairing:- Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count:- 3,820

Waking beside Tony the next morning, your mind worked through all the possible options available to you. You could try to escape, but with his stupid technology inside you, not only could he always find you but the two shocks you already received were still fresh in your mind. Carefully reaching across him for the phone on the bedside table, Tony opened his eyes, caught hold of your hips and despite your struggles, placed you on top of him before thrusting up into your waiting pussy as he pulled your hips down to meet his. "Fuck darling, what a way to wake up? You feel fantastic. Tell me you love how full I make you feel."

Holding onto his chest to steady yourself while trying to free yourself, you refused to even look at him. Unhappy with both your non-participation and refusal to answer, he lifted you up until only his tip remained inside you and repeated the process again. Each time he brought you down, a hand left a slap on your ass cheek and it wasn't long before his efforts brought a reaction from you. Just not the one he expected.

Managing to successfully grab your pillow, you brought it down on Tony's face and couldn't believe your dumb luck when he started thrashing beneath you, before his hands fell from your body. Holding the pillow in place a bit longer for good measure, you then removed yourself from his cock while grabbing his phone, t-shirt and boxers before running from the room. Throwing on Tony's clothes while simultaneously making your way towards the kitchen, you tried the phone only to find it locked.

Upon reaching the kitchen, your spirits sank further when, as Tony had told you previously, both doors were indeed locked. Searching around for some means to pry any door open, you eventually dropped to the floor while you contemplated the fucked up situation you now found yourself in. Here you sat in a house you couldn't leave, with a dead Avenger and apparently no way of opening any door that wasn't your bedroom. You would have cried at the dire circumstances now facing you if it wasn't for the sharp pain that radiated throughout your body, signaling that Tony Stark wasn't as dead as you thought. Screaming and wrapping your arms around yourself as the pain increased, darkness claimed you once again before a pissed off Tony towered over your unconscious form.

*************

Finally coming round in a room you didn't recognize, the double doors however told you that you now occupied Tony's bed. Looking around, you saw that while it might look similar to your room, it was in fact much bigger with three doors along one wall. Above the bed proved another difference however and this one made you wish you could reach a bathroom. Where the window in your room sat above the bed, here Tony had a mirror running the full length of the bed with the same ceiling window on either side.

Tearing your gaze away from the scene above, you looked once more at your naked form, but this time instead of being secured to the bed your hands and feet were simply bound together. Giving you a bit more freedom, but still not allowing you to move, a noise off to your right brought your attention back to the three doors. All of a sudden, the single one opened and there before you stood a dripping wet Tony Stark, draped in a black towel that left very little to the imagination. Winking over at you, he made his way to the other two doors before emerging a short time later in boxers that were no better than the towel. Rounding the bed and sitting on the couch you now just noticed, Tony couldn't help but admire the effort you made to roll onto your side in order to face him. It seemed your determination and perseverance were fast becoming his favorite qualities.

Taking your time to catch your breath after the effort moving took, the look on his face did nothing to quell your rising anger or frustration. "Well Mr. Stark, I guess it's safe to say you look pretty good for a dead man. Do I get to find out what's in store for me now or later?"

"Oh Y/N . . .," he smiled, rising from the couch and laying down next to you on the bed. "what I have planned for you will totally depend on the path you choose to take going forward."

"Path? What path? I can't believe you're actually going to give me a choice in any of this."

Sliding his hand along your side, he smiled broadly before cupping your face to make you look at him. "You know, with as smart as you are you should be way higher up in the company. How come you've never once applied for any promotional opportunity?" he asked, failing miserably to put you at ease.

"I already told you, I was happy where I was. I was good at my job and it was well paying, while still affording me ample time to enjoy various hobbies. Not everyone needs to be lord of everyone else." you directed at him.

"Lord of everyone?" he scoffed, his other hand stalling on your left thigh. "Is that what you think of me? Excuse me for seeing something I want and going after it. As circumstances and you keep proving, life can be quite short. One never knows when it might end."

"But I'm not something, Mr. Stark. I'm someone. Someone who's not interested in being your flavor of the month or however long you plan on playing with me."

"Oh darling, no. No no no. You're not a flavor of the month. You're my forever. All you have to do is choose it."

Bursting out laughing at this ridiculous statement, you rolled over onto your back again as you tried to compose yourself. "I think I might have cut off too much air to your brain when I tried to smother you, because I honestly don't see any scenario where I agree to be yours."

Propping both of you up against the headboard, you cringed as he placed his arm around your waist before speaking again. "Let's watch a little visual presentation and then you tell me where you stand." With that a tv screen rose from what you thought was a box at the end of the bed, while Tony played around with the watch on his wrist. As the screen came to life, your eyes widened when he opened a file titled 'New York Mob.'

Sebastian, Sabrina, Anthony, Scarlett, Jeremy, Chris and Brie, all possible known information about each and every one of them was displayed in eye opening clarity. Tony it seemed had been thorough. So thorough, you thought, that he could probably teach the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. a thing or two. Looking as the information continued to scroll by, accompanied by an array of private pictures, your blood ran cold when you realized, this was his leverage. While he had told you he didn't want a war with Sebastian, it seemed he was more than willing to mobilize the Avengers if necessary to keep you with him.

Turning off the screen when he felt your tears fall on his chest, he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms tenderly around you. "You know you can keep them safe, right darling? Just say you're mine and Steve, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Bruce need never know of their existence."

Wiping your tears, you managed to pull yourself free of his arms before glaring up at him. "Are you out of your freaking mind? You're a goddamn Avenger. Heroes don't do this sort of shit."

"You're right Y/N, this is the kind of thing your friends do all too frequently. But good girls also don't behave the way you do. Now come here, say you're mine or by god you can face the consequences." he threatened as he held out his arms to you.

Figuring the worst he could do was shock you until you were gratefully unconscious again, you turned away from him, before curling into a ball and waiting for the painful darkness that never came.

*************

Snatching you up, while you fought as best you could, Tony sat back down on the couch, before placing your bound form across his lap and his left hand on your back. Feeling his right hand massage your ass cheeks, you turned your head to face him as you realized knocking you out would be a blessing compared to what he had planned.

"Mr. Stark . . . Tony . . . you win. I'm yours. Now how about we get something to eat and discuss this future you envisioned?" you suggested, with as much fake sincerity as your frightened body could muster.

Having freed your legs and smiling broadly, Tony continued to stroke your ass as he leaned forward and kissed your lips before meeting your terrified gaze. "Seven to ten minutes darling. That's how long it takes to properly suffocate someone. Shall we see how long it takes for my proud little girl to beg?" With that, his hand left your ass before coming back down sharply.

Eyes fixed on the floor and thinking of all the ways you would love to see him suffer as a means to distract yourself, you let out a cry somewhere around slap nine, when this time it seemed the nanoparticle armor had made an appearance. Not knowing how much time had passed, six more rapid blows of metal against flesh had your ass stinging and tears falling from your eyes. Turning to face him once again, this time you hoped your current state could swing the situation in your favor. "Tony please, it hurts so freaking much. Stop this and I will say, do and be whatever you want."

"Aw Y/N, darling, we've only been at this a few minutes. You and I both know your stubborn streak is much stronger than this. Besides, I can tell when you're lying. Now if you don't mind, I have some work to get back to."

Knowing you had failed to appeal to him, you renewed your efforts to free yourself, only for Tony to increase the pressure of his hand on your back. Raining down many more metal slaps on each cheek, a scream ripped through you and your struggles died down when Tony spit on your ass before plugging you up with what you now knew to be a nano-cock. You didn't know if it was sheer stubbornness or hatred that kept you from passing out, but as Tony picked up your crying, trembling form and placed you back on the bed, you were more determined than ever not to submit to him.

Wiping the tears from your eyes as he once again secured your hands to the bed, Tony couldn't help but lean closer to whisper in your ear. "No more tears now, be my good girl and everything your heart desires will be yours."

"What my heart desires right now is to see you bleeding at my feet." you spat, moving around to head butt him once again. "Ow fuck, that hurt."

Collapsing back down on the bed while trying to ignore the throbbing in your forehead, you watched as Tony rubbed his head before moving down the bed and discarding his boxers. Then taking hold of your legs, he quickly secured each one to the bed with soft rope. "Y/N, I really don't know what I did to warrant this level of hostility. Where's the polite young lady who dropped off those files to my meeting Wednesday morning hmm?"

"Where she's been, is held captive by a delusional billionaire playboy who doesn't get that not every woman he meets wants to suck his cock."

Having settled himself between your legs, he seemed to contemplate what you said as one hand stroked his length, before the other made its way to your waiting folds. Once there, he then proceeded to slap your mound until tears and curses fell from your body once again. "See darling this is the fundamental problem we're having right here." he smirked, as he ran his fingers along your slit before plunging inside. "You run from me, claim you want nothing to do with me. Hell, you even try to kill me, yet your body still craves my touch." To prove his point, he withdrew his digits and brought them to your lips.

Opening your mouth when his other hand left his shaft to grab the nano-cock in your ass and push it deeper, his slick fingers entered your mouth, forcing you to taste your body's reaction to him. Working in tandem, his other hand began moving the nano-cock at a steady pace, while your mouth hungrily latched onto his fingers. In no time at all, shame bloomed within you as your back arched and the grin on Tony's face confirmed that he knew you had just come.

"Well now Y/N, what a way to prove me right. Shall we try for another one?" With that he removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them instead to your swollen clit. Slapping it again, while continuing to move the cock in your ass, the nanoparticles and ropes kept you exactly where he wanted you. Your demeanor changed dramatically however, when he slipped two fingers into your pussy and began pumping them and the nano-cock in and out of your body while his lips latched onto your clit.

"Oh my fucking god Tony, what the hell are you doing?" you cried out as your body fought not only the restraints, but the intense pleasure now radiating upwards and outwards from your core. Now crying full on tears, this was a level of pleasure you had never before experienced and it scared you to think what the end result would be. As Tony worked faster and harder, your breathing reached the point where you could no longer string two words together and as the nanoparticles loosened around your wrists, the coil in your stomach finally snapped and you saw black.

Coming around a few minutes later, an empty feeling in your ass told you the nano-cock had been removed while the smuggest looking Tony Stark you had ever come across, gently trailed his fingers up and down your over sensitive and tender folds. "There's my beautiful Y/N." he said, as he leaned down to kiss your lips, while you were too tired to currently fight him.

Looking around, you discovered that you were no longer tied down to the bed, but for some reason your body also seemed to have trouble responding to your commands. Sensing your rising confusion, Tony stopped his actions and instead focused all his attention on you before speaking. "It's okay darling, everything is fine. I just wore you out a bit is all." he smirked as he continued explaining. "Your orgasm was so intense, that you actually passed out on me. Thankfully the nanoparticles reassured me that nothing was wrong." Leaning forward to kiss you once more, he brought his lips directly to your ear before whispering, "Tell me Y/N, am I the first man to ever make you squirt?"

Looking up at him in abject horror, your voice finally seemed to return to you, even if the rest of your mental faculties still seemed to be rearranging themselves. "Squirt? Tony what the fuck are you talking about and could you please stop doing that." you exclaimed, as his hand returned to your pussy while his mouth lavished attention on each of your tits.

Looking up at you, you couldn't recall ever seeing Tony Stark so proud of himself and that look alone almost made you feel sick. "You soaked the sheets darling. There's cum and fluid everywhere. It was glorious. V.I.R.G.I.L. taped it, I can replay it if you want."

As the vaguest memory of what had occurred finally bloomed in your mind, you at last returned to your senses and scrambled as far away for him as you could physically get. "Jesus no, Mr. Stark. What you can do is erase that fucking video right now and get it through your thick head that what happened will not, I REPEAT WILL NOT happen again."

"Oh, so I see we're back to Mr. Stark are we? Well that just isn't going to work for me." he huffed out, as he moved quicker than you ever thought possible and had you once more held down on the bed beneath him. Fighting back as best you could, the battle was lost when Tony sat atop your thighs before caging both your wrist in his powerful hand. "Here's what's going to happen darling and I don't want to hear any complaints from you. First I'm going to fuck this pussy of yours so good you'll never let another man near it. Not that I'll ever let that happen anyway." he said, as your eyes followed his other hand down to where it stroked his now hard, red and leaking shaft.

"Then," he quickly added, noticing you were about to argue, "I'm going to fill you with so much cum that you'll always have a part of me inside you. Afterwards we are going to move to the kitchen where you and I are going to enjoy a nice dinner before getting to know each other better. Do I make myself clear?" he finally asked, as the tv returned to show images of your friends silently scrolling along the screen.

Reluctantly admitting defeat but too stubborn to let him see you break, you turned your gaze away from the screen to focus on him. "O-okay T-tony," you croaked out as a victorious smile bloomed across his face and his lips moved down to capture yours in a searing kiss.

With that, he quickly removed himself from your thighs and parting your legs, lined his aching cock up with your now abused entrance before gently sliding home. Failing to control the moans that left your lips as he set up a surprisingly tender rhythm, Tony was totally taken aback when he released your hands only to have them latch onto his shoulders as your legs left the bed to wrap around his waist. It seemed for all your protests and complaints, Tony had been right about one fundamental point . . . your body craved the feelings he pulled from it.

Pulling out to just the tip and then thrusting back in just as slowly so your walls felt every vein and ridge of his impressive member, Tony kept up this slow, torturous pace until you couldn't stand it any longer. "Oh for fuck’s sake Tony, put me out of my misery and fuck me like you promised."

Having finally gotten the desired result, Tony smirked down at you before releasing your legs from his waist and shoving them forward as far as they would go. Now able to pound into you at a deeper angle, his cock reached places you never knew could feel so good. Hitting your cervix and rubbing deliciously over your g-spot you finally gave voice to the pleasure he was working out of you. "Ah yes Tony, right there. That's it, please don't stop. Fuck!" you begged as you tried your best to thrust against him.

"Oh my beautiful girl, you never have to beg me for anything and I have no intention of stopping." Tony panted while gazing down on you. True to his word, Tony continued to pound into you and as he felt your walls begin to clench around his length, he reached his hand down between your joined bodies and began to apply enough pressure on your swollen clit to make you come undone.

"Ahh fuck. Uhhh, make me come Tony."

Getting the hint that you were so close to the edge that you simply needed a little extra push, Tony looked into your eyes as he placed his mouth over your left breast and bit into your tender flesh. Hearing the scream as your walls clamped down on his aching member, it was now Tony's turn to curse as his balls clenched up and both of you came in a torrent of cum and tangled limbs.

*************

Laying down beside you as you both began to recover from your release, Tony failed to notice the tears leaking from your eyes as you rolled onto your side with your back to his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he placed countless kisses all over your neck and shoulders while his hands roamed over your chest. Once he heard your breathing return to normal, he released his hold on you before rising from the bed. "Okay darling, let's get you cleaned up so we can see about that dinner I promised you."

Holding out his hand to help you from the bed, you couldn't remember a time when your body ached so much. Leading you to the door he exited earlier, Tony opened the door to the luxury shower and ushered you inside. Leaning against the tiled wall as the water hit your body, you jerked away when Tony came up behind you and lined his body up perfectly with yours. "Easy darling, it's only me." he whispered as he handed you the bottle of shampoo. Gazing down at the bottle, Tony seemed to understand what you were thinking and quickly used his powerful arms to cage yours by your side.

"Don't even think about it Y/N. You've already proven you don't value your own life, but Sabrina's seems to be a different story. All I have to do is have F.R.I.D.A.Y. alert Steve and your friend is nothing but a distant memory." Dropping the bottle as the fight died in you, Tony released you to pick it up as you slumped against the wall.

However as the tears you were shedding had now dried up, your anger seemed to have returned and turning around as he neared you again, you raised your fist and connected squarely with Tony's jaw. "You may have proven that my body craves you and you may hold my fate and that of my friends in your hands, but I will never accept being yours." you spat as Tony reached out and forcefully grabbed you by the hair.

Pulling your face close to his, he kissed you hungrily and spit in your mouth, before pushing you onto your knees and shoving his cock against your lips. "Bite me darling and the New York Mob will witness a massacre the likes of which has never been seen." was all he said as he squeezed your jaw and thrust his length down your throat.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @ironlady1993 , @gotnofucks , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , @buttercandy16 , sorry if I missed anyone.

#dark!tony stark x reader #tw: attempted suffocation #my own writing

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queenofcats17 · 3 years

Text

The Ink Demonth 30

So, after seeing this post, I wanted to write it.

I have just realized that @hello-im-not-a-possum is the originator of this AU idea, so this is for them.

This is old and I decided to repurpose it for the “Partner” prompt

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Henry…honestly wasn’t sure what was going on.

He’d left the infirmary after getting the valve wheel and had been greeted by…a sight he hadn’t seen before. It was a Boris wearing pants, suspenders, a shirt, and a Bendy mask on the side of its head. And it was holding a dustpan.

Henry couldn’t help but stare. He wasn’t sure where this Boris had come from and where it had gotten a shirt of all things. He was assuming this was Sammy. Mostly because of the dustpan and the mask, as well as the fact that this was where Sammy usually popped up.

“….Hi,” Henry said slowly.

The Boris raised its dustpan menacingly. Henry took an instinctive step back.

“Hey! Wait!” He put his hands up, scrambling to find something to appease the irate music director.

This was a change, so maybe he could pick Sammy up as a companion. Maybe he could save him. But he had to act quickly. Sammy in this state wasn’t exactly the patient sort.

He held up a can of soup. “D-Do you want some soup?” He asked with a shaky smile.

The Boris slowly lowered its dustpan.

“You would offer me sustenance?” It asked with Sammy’s voice.

“Yeah, sure.”

For a moment, Sammy stared at Henry. Then he dropped the dustpan and sunk to his knees.

“My Lord,” he gasped, lowering his head.

Henry grimaced, kneeling and rolling the soup can to his former friend. This was weird, but he could work with it.

“Do you…want to come with me?” Henry asked slowly.

“I would follow you anywhere, my Lord,” Sammy said without a hint of sarcasm or insincerity.

“Okay. Cool.” Henry nodded and turned away. “Well, let’s get going.”

Sammy discarded his mask and followed without another word.

Henry hadn’t been entirely sure how they’d get from the Music Department to Boris’ safehouse, but luckily for him the Ink Demon still triggered to chase them. It seemed generally displeased that Sammy was with Henry now, and grew especially displeased when Sammy tried to attack it.

“Sammy, no! We gotta go!” Henry yelled as he dragged Sammy through the hallways. “We are not fighting it!”

“But I must protect you!” Sammy protested, waving his ax in the general direction of the quickly gaining Ink Demon.

“While I appreciate that, I’d rather have you alive!” Henry responded. “I’m not going to lose you again!”

Hearing this made Sammy abruptly stop swinging, which made it considerably easier to drag him. Henry only noticed how much Sammy’s tail was wagging once they had successfully escaped the Ink Demon.

“Sammy? Are you alright?” Henry asked.

Sammy didn’t respond, just staring ahead with a dreamy look while his tail vigorously wagged.

“My Lord values me,” he whispered to himself.

Henry couldn’t help but sigh. This was going to be a thing he would have to deal with, huh? At least Sammy was alright. And the tail wagging was pretty cute.

It was at that moment that the bacon soup can rolled into view and Boris poked his head around the corner.

Sammy jumped into action, getting in front of Henry and brandishing his ax.

“Speak your name and state your purpose!” He demanded.

Boris whimpered and moved away, ears drooping.

“Sammy, it’s alright, he’s a friend,” Henry said, getting between Sammy and Boris. “He’s going to help us.”

Sammy narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment before slowly lowering his ax.

“Very well,” he said. “Rejoice, hound, for my Lord has chosen to spare you.”

Boris looked over at Henry with an expression that radiated confusion.

“I know, he’s kind of weird.” Henry smiled apologetically and patted Boris’ head. “But he’s on our side this time.”

Boris nodded, although he still regarded Sammy warily on their way back to the safe-house.

It didn’t take long after they got to the safe-house for Sammy to become incredibly attached to Boris as well. The majority of this was because Boris had provided them both with bacon soup. It also helped Sammy to see Henry interacting positively with Boris. Seeing how much Henry cared about Boris convinced Sammy that the wolf was to be trusted. And more importantly, protected.

This meant when the time came for Alice to steal Boris away, Sammy fought her off tooth and nail. So when Henry woke up, he was greeted with two cartoon wolves, ready to continue helping him on his journey.

Even before that, though, Henry found himself incredibly glad to have Sammy around. Yes, the former music director tended to throw himself into dangerous situations with no regard for his own personal safety, but he was also incredibly helpful with dealing with the corrupted Butcher Gang members and Searchers.

And it was really nice to have someone else to talk to, even if Henry did still have to deal with Sammy’s prophet talk. He hadn’t realized the toll it had taken on him to have to go through all of this alone and almost completely silent.

“You know, I’m really glad you’re here, Sammy,” Henry remarked as they headed down to level 14.

They had finished with all of Alice’s errands except for the one on the Projectionist’s level and Henry wanted to express his appreciation now in case the Projectionist killed Sammy. Because Henry was almost certain Sammy would immediately try to fight the Projectionist.

Sammy blinked, clearly surprised by this comment, and quickly looked away. “I’m glad I can be of service to you, my Lord.”

“It’s not just ‘being of service’,” Henry insisted. “You’re a good ally to have and I’m glad me and Boris have you to help watch our backs.”

Sammy said nothing, although his tail began to vigorously wag.

Boris made a noise that might have been a laugh and hugged Sammy. The relationship between the two of them had improved even further since the safe-house, which made Henry happy to see.

“I am…glad that you both enjoy my company,” Sammy said slowly, tail wagging even more vigorously at the hug. “…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Henry smiled and patted Sammy’s shoulder.

The elevator reached level 14 a minute later, and Henry and Sammy got out.

Henry approached the railing, scanning the ink flooded level below. If they were lucky, maybe they could avoid the Projectionist.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be in the cards.

“Ssh…There he is.” Alice’s voice came through the speakers as the Projectionist walked out of one of the doorways. “The Projectionist. Skulking in the darkness. You be sure to stay out of his light, if you don’t want trouble. Just bring me back the pieces I need.”

“Alright. We need to get the ink hearts and avoid him,” Henry whispered. “So don’t go fighting him, okay?” He looked over to make sure Sammy understood, only to see that Sammy was already jumping over the railing to go attack the Projectionist.

“Fuck!” Henry all but sprinted down the stairs to where Sammy was attempting to defeat the Projectionist.

Thankfully, they were able to take him out before Sammy was killed, although Henry did die at one point. But, as usual, he was resurrected at a Bendy statue.

“The monster has been defeated!” Sammy proclaimed proudly once the Projectionist fell.

For a moment, Henry just stood there, catching his breath. Then he grabbed Sammy by the shoulders and all but slammed him against the wall.

“M-My Lord?” Sammy’s eyes widened, taken aback by Henry’s sudden violent gesture. Henry had never behaved like this toward him before.

“Stop doing that!” Henry yelled.

“S-Stop doing what, my Lord?”

“Stop just running into danger like that!” Tears were welling up in Henry’s eyes.

“But I…I must protect you,” Sammy said.

“Then don’t try to die!” Henry’s grip on Sammy’s shoulders tightened slightly. “If you want to protect me then stay!” His voice dropped in volume as he began to quietly sob. “Please. I can’t lose you again, Sammy. Please.”

Sammy paused, unsure how to react. On one hand, he felt he needed to defend his Lord from whatever threat might arise, taking preemptive action if needed. On the other hand, it was clearly upsetting his Lord that he was putting himself in danger. But why did it matter? Sammy was but a humble servant of his Lord. His life was of no consequence.

Still, if his Lord wished for him to cease these actions, he should obey.

“Very well,” he nodded solemnly. “I will…Try not to behave so recklessly in the future.”

“Thank you,” Henry whispered, pulling Sammy into a partner. “I…I know you don’t think of yourself like this but…I consider you my friend. And my partner.”

Sammy’s tail began to vigorously wag once more, which got a laugh out of Henry.

“Alright.” Henry pulled back with a tearful smile. “Let’s, uh, let’s go get those ink hearts and get back to Alice so we can get out of here.”

Sammy’s tail abruptly stopped wagging and his ears drew back.

“I still don’t see why we must play her games,” he grumbled as he followed Henry into the labyrinth.

“I know I know.” Henry nodded as he scanned the corners for ink hearts. “But she controls the elevator.”

Not to mention, they needed to follow the script, even with this change.

Sammy grumbled under his breath, but said nothing more on the subject. Instead, he began to sniff the air. Before Henry could ask what he was doing, Sammy was off like a shot.

“Hey! Sammy! Where are you going?!” Henry scrambled after him.

It turned out Sammy could sniff out the ink hearts. Which was unexpected (even though Sammy was currently a canine), but not unwelcome, and ended up cutting the time Henry usually spent searching in half. This skill also helped them get out of the labyrinth since Henry hadn’t picked up the ink heart on the platform in his hurry to save Sammy.

As they grabbed the last ink heart and got back in the elevator, Henry once again thought about how happy he was to have Sammy there with him. He wouldn’t be alone this loop. Not even for a second.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #sheepdog sammy au #batim au #sammy lawrence #henry stein #boris the wolf #the ink demonth

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camthesolemnone · 3 years

Note

Hi, I have like, 4 more ideas that came to me while I was at work, so #1: horror movie. Medic and Heacy are in their cottage, and have just watched a horror movie of some kind before they go to bed, right? Yeah. BUT! As they get ready, something odd happens that sets them both on edge (turns out it's just one of the birds or something) but they end up scarred and not wanting to go to sleep

I changed this one a bit but the main idea remains in-tact. I’m sorry that this took so long to get out and that the ending is kinda shitty. I’m working on the other prompts you sent me alongside this one! Also, I don’t know if you saw the pinned message or not but requests are now closed, so please hold off on sending any more.

"Is leetle Scout asleep as well?" Heavy asked, sitting comfortably on the rec room couch.

Medic nodded and reached for the VHS tape sitting on the glass table in the middle of the room. A tiny smile graced the Russian's features.

"Is good, we have television all to our selves!"

"Ja, and don't expect to sleep tonight, Mikhail! Herr Engineer told me that this is one of the scariest movies he’s ever seen," Ludwig replied, holding up the tape for his partner to see.

Written across the label in black sharpie was the simple word, 'Halloween.' The label should have been difficult to read in the dark, but the Russian noticed how it almost seemed to radiate a burgundy light...must have been some crazy glow-in-the-dark marker Engineer had invented, he concluded. Heavy crossed his arms triumphantly and laughed.

"Do not count on it, Doktor! Heavy is not phased by baby horror films!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!”

A moment of time was spent struggling to find out which remote went to which device, but eventually, the pair got the movie inside the VHS player and smiled excitedly as color flooded the screen. Ludwig left the room briefly to make popcorn and plopped down on the couch next to his lover to click “Play” on the title screen upon his return.

“If Doktor gets scared, you can hold onto me~” Mikhail teased, and Ludwig shoved his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re 45 years old, liebe? Because right now, you sound like a lovestruck teenager!” The doctor shot, handing him the popcorn bowl.

“Well...” Heavy began, settling a massive arm around Medic’s shoulders, “One part of that statement is correct.”

Unsurprisingly, Heavy was correct about being immune to the movie’s horrors. Then again, Medic was also not affected by the film, so they took more pleasure in the plot and the acting then the actual scary moments.

Of course, Ludwig grew giddy when gore was involved.

“Hohoho! Look at all of that blood! If I was the killer in this scenario, I would collect it for future use,” he commented.

Heavy raised a questioning eyebrow and attempted to distract himself with the popcorn, but he soon came to the realization that there was nothing left but kernels. His German companion took to removing the bucket from his grasp and standing up.

“I need to use the bathroom, so I’ll take this back on the way,” the doctor stated, and the heavy weapons specialist nodded in response.

Mikhail was left all alone with the intensifying film in the dimly lit room. He would never admit it, but now that Ludwig was gone, he felt smaller. It wasn’t a feeling of fear but of slight unease; things would likely be alright for Heavy, but there was always a shred of uncertainty.

As time passed and the movie reached its climax, Heavy became more and more enthralled with the action, to the point where he forgot about Medic’s absence. His eyes were fixated on the glowing screen, his hands gripped tightly at the wool blanket surrounding him. Mikhail fell deep into the world of gruesome fantasy, and as a consequence, he nearly shot out of his seat at the sound of rapid footsteps and whisper-shouting coming from down the hall.

“Heavy! Oi, big guy!” Demoman said, urgency in his tone.

The Russian let his blanket drop to the floor and stared at the demolitions expert with confusion and anxiousness. The Scot all but captured his arm with both of his own and began dragging him down the hall as best as he could.

“Slow down, Tavish. What is this about?” Mikhail asked.

Demo turned his gaze back to his teammate.

“The Doc ‘s dead in the cludgie!”

Heavy’s eyes widened with shock, emotional pain, and fury towards whoever had committed such an act. Sure, Medic would respawn, but whoever had laid a finger on his beloved doctor was in for a beatdown. Unless it was an accident, in which case Mikhail would scold the German about being reckless.

The pair burst through the door to the community showers and the Russian nearly gasped at the sight. Ludwig laid unmoving in the center of the room with blood staining the front of his lab coat and the ground surrounding him. There was no weapon to be found, but in the corner of the room, with his back towards the door, sat a curled up, trembling, mumbling Scout.

Mikhail’s first thought was that Jeremy had committed this grisly murder, but Tavish put a hand out in front of his chest before he could progress. The Russian opted for whispering Medic’s name as a substitute.

“Scout! What the hell happened here!” Demo cried.

The young runner didn’t reply. He continued to rock back and forth, murmuring and wrapping his arms around himself. The Scot approached him cautiously, taking a calm, more concerned approach. Heavy followed.

“Aye, are you alright, mate?”

Demo reached out to put a hand on Scout’s shoulder, and a series of rapid events unfolded.

Scout’s entire body whipped around and stood up, and the Bostonian let out a high pitched, almost demonic screech. In his left hand was a knife stained in blood, Medic’s blood, and Heavy and Demo exhibited two very different reactions.

Demoman yelped and jumped back, going into flight mode. The massive Russian on the other hand, fearful for the lives of himself and his friend, took a strong step forward and lashed out at Jeremy’s face. One square punch to the jaw was enough to send the man flying across the communal bathroom and into the wall. He slumped over after the hit, out cold.

“What in the-! It was almost like that boy was possessed!” Demo shouted.

When Mikhail and Tavish’s hurried breathing finally began to slow, a new sound rang throughout the room: laughter.

Medic was rolling on the floor alive and well, laughing his ass off and further soiling his labcoat. Heavy gasped out a “Doktor!” at the man’s sudden revival while Demoman stood frozen.

“Hahaha! I can’t believe it! I just thought I’d have a bit of fun scaring you, liebe, but watching you knock out Scout was far more amusing!” The doctor exclaimed, rolling on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows like a teenage girl lying on her bed while talking to a friend over the phone.

Demoman was the first to flare up.

“What?! So you’re saying this was all a prank?! You’re sick in the head, Medic!”

The Scot was tempted to slap him silly, but with Heavy in the room, that clearly wasn’t an option. With another frustrated grunt, he stomped off and back to bed.

Now it was Heavy’s turn.

“That was not funny, Ludwig! Heavy thought you were dead!” He scowled.

The doctor hauled himself off the ground and stood up straight, wiping some of the fake(?) blood on his hands off onto his lab coat.

“What’s there to worry about? Even if I had been stabbed, I would have just respawned, Mikhail.”

“I know, but...”

Medic’s expression dropped. His love had one massive paw gripping his opposite forearm and his face was distraught. He looked smaller, scared almost, and a tiny crack situated itself in the German’s heart. If he had known such an act would hurt Heavy so deeply, he wouldn’t have even thought about going through with it. There was also the issue of Scout. Ludwig relished the sight of the cocky, annoying Boston boy being beat up, but for once, he regretted roping him into his plans. The runner had been all too willing to help him with the scare, and Medic repaid him with his bear’s violence.

He sighed and shook his head at himself internally. Yes, his prank hadn’t been very rational, he concluded.

With slow, apologetic steps, Medic approached his partner and wrapped his arms around him gently, rubbing his broad back with one hand.

“Es tut mir leid, Heavy. This was all very foolish of me,” he admitted.

Heavy returned the embrace and buried his nose into his doctor’s hair, which smelled of blood and autumn leaves.

“You know it is because I do not like seeing you hurt, moya lyubov. Every time evil Spy kills you on battlefield, my blood boils. Would sacrifice myself a million times to keep you safe,” he murmured, and Ludwig’s heart cracked a little more.

His arms tightened around the giant with increased guilt. It pained him profoundly to see Mikhail die too.

“I love you, Heavy. From the bottom of my soul, I am truly sorry.”

The Russian moved one hand from the smaller man’s waist to cup his cheek protectively.

“I love you too, Doktor, but please, do not play with death. Someday, we will not get another life.”

The credits of the movie had long concluded by the time the two of them returned to the rec room. Medic was rather disappointed that he had missed the latter half of the film, but what made up for it was a soft kiss to his forehead and a set of teasing words given to him by his lover before being sent off to sleep.

“Next time, we watch psychological thriller, da? Less gore will give you less dangerous ideas,” Mikhail suggested, patting a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder.

The doctor laughed and gave him a sly smile that warded off his fears, allowed him to breathe normally again. He was still alive.

“I like the sound of that, but you’re making the popcorn!”

#tf2 #heavymedic #horror films #fanfiction

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kiribakuficrecs · 3 years

Note

hello!!! im going on a very long trip at the end of april and I'm looking for some very long fics to download to keep me entertained! i dont care what they're about as long as there's no major character death or mentions of non-con. ur blog is a godsend ilysm and you do such a good job thank you so much 🙏

hi there!! i definitely have a lot of good lengthy fics i can recommend to you!

quote love unquote by newamsterdam

Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”

“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.

“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

acceptance and denial by poteto

It all goes okay when Kirishima decides to come out to his friends and it all goes wrong when decides that Bakugou is the best fake boyfriend material.

cause the darks not taking prisoners tonight by imatrisarahtops

“Are those soba noodles?” Kirishima asked.

Again Bakugou’s only reply was a grunt. He offered no further explanation—not that Kirishima honestly expected one—as though making soba noodles from scratch at half past four in the morning wasn’t at all a bizarre occurrence and made complete and total sense. For a fleeting moment, Kirishima even wondered if maybe he was the odd one here. Besides, he’d already decided it was generally not in his best interest to question these types of things with Bakugou, especially when it was something essentially harmless.

When Kirishima has a nightmare and is unable to fall back asleep, he accepts defeat and decides to study in the common area of the dorms. What he doesn't expect to find is Bakugou, also very much awake, and Kirishima can't help but think that maybe they're both having the same problems with sleeping. If he's worried, it's just because they're friends. (Right?)

the weight of your hand by kamin

That night, to the citizens, the explosions were a jolt of fear at every blast, but to the heroes and the students of UA, they were punches and swings, fierce fighting and loud strength. The explosions were the pulse of the battle, and the power of a boy that would never back down.

One after another, explosions set a chorus through the shuddering city.

And then, suddenly—the explosions stopped.

(In which Bakugou’s kidnapping goes a little differently, and just a few seconds could change so much.)

so take my hand (your life will be brighter) by multiclassmaps

When a stranger shows up at the ice rink during Bakugou's usually private training sessions, Bakugou expects to hate him. He doesn't expect to develop feelings that become increasingly difficult to deny, or for them to help each other sort through their emotional baggage. - Bakugou really didn't like Kirishima's smile. There was something about it that made his stomach hurt, something about it that made it difficult to focus. He definitely hadn't thought about that smile on his way to the ice rink that day. He definitely hadn't.

distance makes the heart grow fonder (false) by dragontrappedinhumanskin

When Bakugo and Kirishima get hit by a quirk that forces them to literally stick together or face the less then desirable consequences, how the fuck is Bakugo supposed to keep his crush hidden?! Well, turns out he never needed to.

-- “Well, this fucking sucks, how are we supposed to train?!” "Really closely?"

perihelion by tauontauoff

Bakugou was a comet, blazing out of reach. Kirishima knew he was stupidly lucky that his furious trajectory went by close enough that his fingertips got to graze the cowl of fire. It was enough.

During Christmas Class 1A and 1B spend a laid-back week learning about extreme environment hero work in the Alps. Kirishima was used to keeping part of his feelings for Bakugou hidden, and had every intention of keeping it that way, but things don't always go according to plan.

fight me by mr_todoroki

Bright red, spiky hair. Annoyingly bright smile. Clothes that radiate ‘look at me’ vibes. Neon yellow tank top with black shorts. And those were definitely crocs on his fucking feet.

Yeah, Katsuki hated this guy.

Bakugou gets a new roommate.

quietly by chezka

“We’ve been taking the same way to and from school for weeks,” Kirishima grinned, and then when Bakugou frowned at him he put on an affected pout, tilted his head so that he was looking at him through his thick, long lashes, “you never noticed? Am I that easy to miss?”

He could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escaped his lips, and Bakugou rolled his eyes, hit him with a shoulder a little more violently than necessary.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, broom-head,” he grumbled, promptly ignoring Kirishima's whining about his hairstyle when it started coming, “I didn’t notice ‘cause I didn’t care.”

“And now you do?”

everyone knows that cats are independent by purplepersnickety

Eijirou enjoys his job, working the graveyard shift at a 24/7 coffee shop. His daemon Riot is always there to keep him company, and he likes meeting the early-morning patrons and giving them the best possible kick-start to their day. It's been his routine for about a year now.

Then one day, a grouchy guy with a daemon in the form of a lion walks into the shop in the dead of night, and Eijirou decides to strike up a conversation with him.

punks not dead by wrunic

“So you want to use me to piss off your mom?” Kirishima summarized, raising one pierced eyebrow at Katsuki.

“Look, if you want to be all fucking judgy about it, I take cash,” Katsuki said, dropping his hand palm up on the table.

“Hey now,” Kirishima said, raising his hands in surrender, “I didn’t say I wasn’t doing it. I’m always down for a little chaos.” He flashed a grin, showing off his ridiculous shark teeth.

“Good,” Katsuki said. “We start tomorrow."

sent, delivered, read, loved by kiribakuhappiness

Kirishima E. [6.49pm]: ur okay for such an angry dude bakugou! :)

Bakugou K. [7.12pm]: FUCK YOU!

Kirishima E. [7.14pm]: haha! :D ttyl!

Bakugou K. [7.48pm]: FUCKING WHAT DO THOSE DUMB LETTERS MEAN???

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: I JUST LOOKED IT UP DONT FUCKING TALK TO ME LATER!

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: STOP TXTING ME!!!

- OR -

Bakugou's and Kirishima's relationship develops from classmates to friends to more, as told through their text conversations.

flicker by mr_todoroki

He was starting to feel depressed. Life was so uninteresting. It was so mundane and forgettable. He had no one to hang out with besides Kota, his family didn’t even live in the city.

He grew his hair out as some sort of rebellion, some sort of stand to make his life the slightest bit more interesting. But he could already feel himself giving in to the pressure of cutting it. He needed to work to live. Without a job, he’d truly have nothing.

Kirishima never applied to UA, therefore never became a hero.

let’s get down to business by kjelfalconer

Katsuki Bakugou, one of the brightest rising stars on wall street, is in need of a new personal assistant. Again. Could Eijirou Kirishima finally be the one to last more than two months?

Katsuki's long suffering HR department sure hope so.

something about us by bigstupidjellyfish

nothing like being in highschool and having no idea how to deal with emotions

fireproof by inkbender

Four years after a classmate nobody seems to remember is kidnapped by the League of Villains, Kirishima drags an amnesiac hobo he found washed up on the beach into his apartment, attempts to teach him how to adult (with varying degrees of success), and discovers along the way that the line between heroism and villainy is quite fine indeed. Plot-divergent after episode 45, the Forest Training Camp arc.

blood riot by magicallee (alternatively)

Kirishima from a universe with no quirks is mind-swapped with an alternate universe version of himself where there are superpowers.

And in that universe he’s a super villain.

And Bakugou is the superhero who caught Evil-Kirishima and put him in prison.

blindside by drowclericpelor

“You’re the first guy friend I’ve had that I can just like, be friends with. You’re either the most unthirstiest boy ever...” Camie shrugged and made another wobbly illusion appear between her hands. It looked like a sparkly rainbow with the word ‘friendship’ beneath it, accompanied by what Bakugou assumed was supposed to be a twinkling sound effect, but it had a tinny quality to it and sounded far away. “...or I just ain’t got the kinda straw you like to ssssip.”

Carefully, Bakugou considered the strange turn this conversation had taken.

He had never been asked, point blank, if he was gay before. And he honestly had never thought about how he would respond. Lying about himself didn’t sit right with him. But he’d always wanted to wait until he was the number one hero - when he stood above everyone else - before coming out. Though he’d had times when he’d thought about doing it before then and had almost gone through with it once. But being the number one hero came first. It wouldn’t matter what people would say about it then as long as he’d risen to the top.

Bakugou knew his lack of a response would give Camie all the answers she needed.

flour power by wingsonghalo

“I’m telling you now, Shitty Hair,” the blonde growled, “I am not gonna play house with you. We will cart this stupid flour around for a week like the assignment says. But some of our idiot classmates are naming the thing and setting up ‘playdates’ and dressing it and I am not doing anything that stupid. Got it?”

Kirishima and Bakugou are paired up to take care of a flour sack for a week. It would be so simple, except nothing with Bakugou is ever simple. Also Kirishima might be kinda sorta completely head over heels for him.

sunchaser by chonideno

that feeling when you suddenly want to jump off a cliff for no reason but instead of a cliff it’s your best friend and instead of jumping it’s growing feelings out of nowhere

or how Bakugou has to try really hard not to throw everything to the wind, and Kirishima doesn't help

i also have a tag specifically for fics that reach somewhere between 30k-70k words long if you wanted to check that out as well! i hope you enjoy the fics here and that i was able to help, ily enjoy your trip!!! :D

#kiribaku fic rec #kiribaku #answered

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

An Artful Revenge Pt. 1

First part of The Archeron Damnation series.

~Rhysand~

Have you ever had everything you’ve ever wanted dropped in your lap like a present?

It makes it so easy you almost don’t even want it anymore.

Before today, this had never happened to me. For over thirty years, I’ve worked and fought and killed for everything I’ve wanted. Nothing about my life has been easy.

Until today.

Until a young, beautiful woman paused to look at a piece of art, oblivious to the monster who stood behind her.

As soon as I looked up and saw her, I felt like an anvil fell on my chest and robbed me of air. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

For the first time in my long, miserable life, I was utterly speechless as Feyre Archeron tilted her head contemplatively, as if the slab of paint was something that required great concentration.

Her focus was so singular it gave me more than enough time to figure out what I wanted to do.

But I couldn’t concentrate enough to even do that. Not yet. For now, I just took her in. Photos didn’t do her justice, honestly. Sandy blonde hair, a slight frame more than pleasing to look at from the back, defined cheekbones, full lips. Beautiful.

It was almost unfair for someone like her to be so beautiful.

She had a hand on her chest and was completely still as she looked at the work in front of her, like she almost couldn’t stand the rush of emotions it gave her.

I understood the feeling.

My friends often tell me I should go on the road as a mind reader or fortune teller or some other bullshit. The point is, I’m pretty decent at reading people.

And just from the way the woman in front of me is looking at an overpriced, ugly piece of art, I know she’s innocent.

She has no idea who she used to share a bed with, no idea what kind of evil she invited into her life with a smile.

I also know I can’t let it change things in the slightest. Innocent or not, beautiful or not, I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to worm my way into her life and turn it fucking upside down.

And she’s just handed it to me on a silver platter.

I’ve been looking for her, and I’ve finally found her.

She’s mine.

~Feyre~

“You like it?”

Gasping and pressing my hand harder against my chest to calm my racing heart, I spin around to face whoever just asked such an obvious question.

And the first thing I can think is, He’s more beautiful than the painting.

The stranger’s casually leaning against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets, confidence and wealth and class draped over him like a very impressive, very handsome mask.

He’s concealed in a jet black suit, but somehow I can tell he’s impressively built; it’s like strength and power are radiating off of him. His face probably took the gods years to craft, the sharp angles of his jaw and slash of his brows perfectly creating the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen.

Dark hair, piercing violet eyes that scan me head to toe, and smirking, sensual lips complete his features.

He’s the most attractive male I’ve ever seen. And I’m an art major who frequently finds herself painting models, so that’s saying something.

“You like it,” he states, whatever he finds on my face taking away the need for a question mark.

“I do,” I confirm, forcing myself to turn back to the painting and stop gawking like an idiot.

He surprises me by asking openly, “Why?”

The painting in question is one of the most revered paintings in the world: Dancers in Blue by Degas. But he’s asking in a way that makes it clear he genuinely doesn’t know why people pay to look at it.

Running my hand through my hair, I try and put it into words. “There’s just so much... energy in it. The background’s nothing but a bunch of paint splatters, and yet you can feel it almost. The dancer’s excitement, the energy of the crowd. It’s breathtaking.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I cringe inwardly, thinking of how weird that probably sounded.

Then, “Would you like it?”

Only four words and they almost knock me on my ass. I spin back around so fast he chuckles, eyes wide, and sputter, “Would I what?”

I mean, it’s clear he’s rich, but there’s rich, and then there’s buying a Degas rich.

“I was planning on buying it anyway. It should belong to someone who loves it as much as you obviously do.”

“What?” I repeat, still not understanding why he would offer something like that to a total stranger.

“I presumed you to be intelligent, but if you keep asking that question, I might have to amend that.”

I narrow my eyes, somehow intelligent enough to pick up on the insult. “I’m just confused. I mean, you look rich and all, but that painting’s worth $45 million dollars. And you just asked...”

“If you want it.”

Putting my hands on my hips, I regard him speculatively. “Which psych ward did you break out of, exactly?”

He smiles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can accept the painting and stare at it from home, or I can buy it and hang it with the other one and never give it a second thought.”

My mind can’t stop running, and I think if I wasn’t determined to not completely embarrass myself, I’d collapse to the ground and sob at the impobability of this situation. “What do you mean the other one? You already have a Degas?”

“The pink one,” he confirms casually, flicking a nonexistent fleck of dust off his jacket.

“You have Dancers in Pink?” He nods, lips twitching at the look on my face. “And why, exactly, are you buying priceless pieces of art if you don’t like them?”

“It’s not priceless. You just told me it’s worth $45 million.” I scowl at the non-answer, and he shrugs. “Someone I don’t care for likes them.”

I connect the dots slowly. “So you buy them so he can’t.”

He nods.

My mouth falls open, making him smile again. It’s dangerously attractive and distracting, but I still demand, “Who the fuck are you?”

The stranger laughs outright at that, strolling forward and offering me a tan, tattooed hand with practiced ease. I notice there’s a platinum, engraved ring on his pointer finger, and I stare at it for a moment because it looks strangely familiar.

He seems to pause as I look at it, holding his breath. I’m probably acting like a total weirdo, so I snap out of it and take his hand.

Because he’s rich and confident and beautiful, he feels entitled to drag his calloused thumb across the back of my hand.

And because I’m poor and stupid and at the end of the day, just a woman, I blush. Which only gets worse as he notices and smirks.

“My name is Rhysand.”

“Rhysand what, exactly? Rockefeller? Vanderbilt? Carnegie?” I run out of rich families and fall silent, and he gives me a look like I’m the most amusing thing he’s ever come across.

“Rhysand Azara. When you google me, you won’t find anything of consequence, I’m afraid.”

The way he says when instead of if makes me blush again, because I’d been waiting for him to leave so I could pull out my cracked, struggling little phone and do exactly that.

He looks at me expectantly, and I realize I haven’t said a word, just held onto his hand like a toddler being led across the street. “Oh, I’m Feyre.”

Rhysand just raises an eyebrow.

“Feyre Archeron.”

“And what would I find if I were going to google your name?”

I notice his statement has an if, but I answer anyway, stating facts nervously like an army cadet reporting for duty. “I’m an art major at UChicago. From Missouri.”

“What else?”

“There’s really not much else.”

He tsks, telling me this answer is unacceptable, but doesn’t press it. Instead he shocks the hell out of me once again. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

It isn’t a question, but it isn’t quite a demand, either. It’s a statement, and it’s said like he already knows what my response is going to be.

But like I just told him, I’m a college student.

Which means for the past three years, I’ve been dealing with college boys.

I’ve been asked to “hang,” “smash,” and even to go to coffee on a few rare, wonderful instances. But never, in my entire life, have I been asked---or told--to go to dinner by someone like him.

I realize it’s because I’ve never met anyone like him.

Even my ex-boyfriend, who’d been well off and older, was nothing like him. Compared to the man in front of me, everyone else seemed... juvenile.

They were boys, toddlers even, compared to the man still gripping my hand.

It prompts me to ask, “How old are you?”

He smiles. “Too old for you, I’m sure. Have dinner with me anyway. For the sake of the painting.”

I’m halfway sure I’m in the middle of a fever dream, about to wake up covered in sweat and wondering what the hell just happened, because this cannot be real.

“You’re... are you actually... you’re offering to give me a $45 million painting if I have dinner with you?” I sound incredulous and wheezy to my own ears, but I don’t even care.

Who the hell is this guy?

“You’ll be my second most expensive date.”

“You’re insane.” I look down to where he still holds my hand, entire focus narrowing on the strength in his grip. How would it feel to have him grip me somewhere else? Rhysand gives me a look like he knows what I’m thinking, so I look at the ceiling. Then declare, “I can’t have dinner with you.”

It almost hurt to say it, honestly, because I really love that painting.

He waits until I look back down at his face before asking, “Why not?”

Blushing to high hell, I murmur, “It feels a little like... prostitution.”

Rhysand throws his head back and laughs, a full, wonderful sound I hadn’t been expecting. It’s easy and contagious, and I find myself grinning, even though what I said was true.

“Dinner, gorgeous, was the deal.” He leans in close and whispers, “You coming home with me won’t have anything to do with it.”

I push him away, mind set on giving myself a few feet away from him to compose myself, but I’m so dizzy and confused and strangely turned on I almost fall. His hands shoot out, landing on the bare skin of my shoulders, and I pause.

And really, really contemplate my life.

Yesterday I was sitting on the floor of my dusty apartment in my underwear, eating Ramen and struggling to figure out what the fuck to put in the background of my painting. Today I’m being asked to dinner by a probable-billionaire. On the condition I accept a very expensive form of bribery.

“I’m not going home with you, but I’ll have dinner with you.” He starts to smile, so I cut him off, “Only if you promise to not buy the painting.”

His brows narrow, a silent demand for information.

“I come here almost every day to see it anyway,” I explain. “Besides, there’s no way I can accept it. It’ll get stolen or damaged or... I just can’t accept it. And the thought of you putting it in some forgotten hallway depresses me.”

He sighs dramatically and re-puts his hand out. “No painting. Just dinner.”

“And no sex.”

A very male look crosses his features. “We’ll discuss that later, I think.”

I roll my eyes but shake hands with him, a strange sense of finality settling over me. I shake it off, telling myself the bare mention of having sex with him is why I’m so nervous.

Four hours later, I stand at the door, purse clutched in one hand, keys in the other. I’m staring at the door, practically foaming at the mouth, waiting for a knock on the other side to hopefully shock me out of my crazed state.

I’ve been like this for ten minutes already, for some reason not wanting him to wait for a second after he got here. Or maybe I just don’t think he’s actually coming.

Maybe I’ve been on some horrible practical jokes show, and Rhysand Azara isn’t even a real person. I’ll probably end up on television, blushing and beyond naïve, having been convinced a man who looked like a male model wanted to buy me a Degas.

I snort, shaking my head at myself. And then almost fall down when a soft yet somehow insistent knock sounds through my small apartment.

“Holy fuck, he’s here.”

I have no idea why I state it aloud, to myself no less, but I feel like it should be said. Hell, it should be written down in history books. If I kept a diary, I’d write in bold, underlined letters: I HAVE A DATE WITH A VERY STRANGE, VERY HANDSOME MAN.

After fluffing my hair and checking my makeup in a mirror, I stop stalling and open the door.

He, of course, looks like sex on a goddamn spoon. And for a split second--just a moment, I swear--I debate grabbing him by his expensive lapels, dragging him backward into my apartment, and finding out what his mouth feels like against mine.

“Feyre,” he greets, snapping me out of my perverted daydream. “You look beautiful.”

I know it’s dumb to be flattered, because it’s fairly standard to tell a girl she looks nice when you pick her up for a date, but it does my ego no harm because how I look right now took some fucking work.

I shaved from the eyebrows down, exfoliated, scrubbed, cleansed, plucked, and spent thirty minutes deciding what to wear.

I’d taken a gamble he’d wear a suit and dressed to match in a black dress, unremarkable save for the very low back, and simple heels.

I step outside with him, grateful for the warm weather, and turn to lock the door.

Rhysand makes a humming sound, and I freeze as I feel a finger drag down my spine, stopping right at the edge of the fabric. Which happens to be very, very close to something indecent.

“Beautiful,” he states again, and hell if I don’t feel like it.

I finally manage to get the lock closed, then spin around to face him. Up close, there’s silver flecks in his eyes, like starlight. Oh, and he smells amazing. Something manly and wintery and not sold in a bottle.

I. Am in. So much. Trouble.

I have no idea why this man has taken an interest in me, but I know it can only end in one way: me in love, him long gone.

But even though I know it, I’m ready. Five minutes with him makes me feel more alive than I ever have, and even though it’s a disaster in the making, I can’t bring myself to care.

He offers his hand and pulls me towards a--surprise--black car, one that looks expensive. After depositing me in the passenger seat, he goes around and climbs in beside me.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m making a guess about something.”

I glance over at him. “Have you ever realized you don’t give actual answers?”

"Yes,” he responds with a grin, turning the stereo on.

Twenty minutes later, I’m practically bursting at the seems to know where he’s taking me.

What kind of guess is he making? Also, what does that even mean?

He pulls up in front of a nice looking place I’ve never been to--again, surprise--and comes around to open my door. Despite the crowd, as soon as the hostess sees the man leading me through the restaurant, we’re ushered into the back.

Turns out the place has private rooms. It’s quiet and cozy, and I’m pretty sure only the president gets this kind of treatment.

Once I’m seated across from him, menu in hand, I have to ask, “Was your guess correct?”

“I don’t know, do you like French food?”

I smile because j’adore French food, and he grins back because he somehow knew that already.

The waiter comes to ask for our drink order, and I gesture at Rhysand for him to order mine. I know nothing about wine, and he obviously does, because he orders something fancy and expensive sounding.

There’s soft music playing in the background, candles in the corner, and a handsome man sitting across from me. It’s the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in, hands down.

He braces an arm on the table, watching as I take a small sip of the wine. Trying to maintain some sort of maturity, I say, “You have good taste.”

“I do,” he replies, but his eyes are on me, not the wine. “Are you almost done with school?”

“One more year,” I answer, trying not to cheer as I say it. Four years of education for an art major is kind of ridiculous to me, but it would’ve been stupid to turn down a full scholarship.

Rhysand hums, nodding. Even though he asked, I somehow feel like he already knew that. Weird.

“Did you go to college?”

He gives me a strange look. “My formal education stopped around seventh grade.”

It’s an effort to keep my jaw off the table, and I’m proud of myself when I say mildly, “Impressive.”

“Being uneducated impresses you?”

I scowl. “No, but having everything you do despite not being handed anything is.”

His face stays impassive, but there’s a twinkle of respect in his eyes. The waiter comes back and asks what we want to eat, and because the menu I’ve barely even looked at is in French, I get the same thing as Rhysand.

When we’re alone again, I ask, “Okay, spill. How’d you know I love French food?”

Rhysand shrugs. “I’m good at reading people.”

I wave a hand, because that wasn’t answer enough, and he continues on a sigh. “You’re kind of... easy to read. No offense.”

“Interesting you say ‘No offense’ after calling a woman easy,” I note.

He laughs, but points out, “You’re not easy. I offer to buy you a Degas and you won’t even come home with me.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “Once again, you haven’t answered my question.”

There’s a long beat of silence. “You like French food because you like Impressionist art, and both Degas and Monet were French. Your dream vacation also happens to be Paris, and eating French food makes you feel closer to that goal.”

My mouth drops open, and he laughs soundly at the blatant display of shock, but before I can ask how the hell he knew that, the waiter comes with our food. Identical displays of delicious-smelling pasta are set in front of us.

I reach for my fork, but he grabs our plates and switches them.

When I raise a brow, he shrugs and says, “In case you were thinking about poisoning me.”

I snort in a very ladylike manner, tucking into my food. A soft moan escapes me, and he looks up at me, bite halfway between his plate and mouth.

“Uh, sorry,” I murmur, blushing down the neckline of my dress.

Rhysand just smiles, making me feel young once again. “Don’t be. I quite enjoy the sound of a pleasured woman.”

Rolling my eyes, I take another bite, managing to refrain from sounding too pleasured. “So, Paris. How’d you know?”

He doesn’t really give me an answer, just says, “I bet you have a little Eifel Tower trinket on your desk and everything.”

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of me, because I do. I totally do. I’ve had it for three years and look at it every time I’m tempted to drop out.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask, trying to get us back on even ground. I feel like he somehow knows everything about me, and even though I’ll have to ask questions, I’m finding out at least one thing about him.

“I’m in real estate.”

I nod, ready to just accept that answer. Then I look around us, remembering how crowded the restaurant was, and start giggling. “You own this restaurant, don’t you?”

A sigh. Busted. “Yes, I do.”

I tsk and give him a judgmental look. “You can’t take me somewhere you own for a date. That’s cheating.”

He takes a sip of his wine. “How so?”

“It just is.” I sigh, just to tease him. “Shame. I was feeling so romanticized, maybe enough so to go home with you. Not anymore, though.”

He rolls his eyes, the gesture making him younger. “Eat your food.”

I do, and by the end, I’m so full I probably look pregnant. “Holy fuck, that was good.”

Rhysand smiles, like it’s adorable that I cursed, and pushes back his empty plate. “Dessert?” I shake my head. “Coffee?”

“I’m so full I might die.”

Rising with fluid grace, he extends a hand. “Then come with me.”

Not bothering to ask questions at this point, I just take his hand and follow him out, noticing the city has a slight chill now that the sun’s gone down.

“Why is it women can never plan for the sun going down?” he ponders, wrapping me in his suit jacket.

“It’s a test to see if you’ll let us freeze to death.”

Rhysand chuckles and slides his hand into mine, so casually and simply it seems like a mundane thing we do every day.

I know I’ve known him for a total of five hours, but everything about today has been... easy. Natural. It’s like we just click, and I’m not stupid enough to question it right now.

“You’re quite the gentleman,” I remark, bringing up our intertwined fingers to look at the tattoos on his skin. He’s silent for a minute, and when I glance over, he’s looking at the ground as we walk, a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You’re probably the only person in this entire world who believes that.”

I scoff, because the idea that the man next to me, holding my hand and running his thumb across my fingers, is anything but a gentleman is absurd.

“What other paintings do you have?”

It’s a question I’ve been dying to ask since he mention his other Degas.

“It’s a shame you’re determined to not go home with me. You could see them yourself.”

I drop his hand and shove his shoulder, my lips twitching as he laughs. “You asshole. You’re leveraging access to a private collection for sex? Men are horrible.”

Rhysand chuckles, throwing an arm around me and pulling me close. “I have a Monet,” he whispers in my ear, placing a featherlight kiss to my temple. “And a Rembrandt.”

“I hate you.”

He releases me and grabs my hand again, then pulls me toward a dark alley I hadn’t noticed he’d been guiding me toward. “Um... where are you taking me?”

He, of course, doesn’t tell me. No, he shushes me.

“I will not be quiet while you drag me down some seedy alley!” I’m beginning to panic a bit, because besides spending way too much time alone, I like to watch Law and Order, and this is turning into the beginning of a familiar episode.

“Is this because I said I won’t have sex with you tonight?” Before he can respond, I blurt, “Because I probably will at some point, I’m just kind of nervous-”

“I’m not going to murder you, Feyre darling.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Pouting like a sullen child, I shut my mouth and accept my fate. He tugs me further down the black alley, and eventually I can’t even see. Can he? Is he some sort of vampire? Am I really asking myself that?

The glow of his phone illuminates the dark for a second, and I catch the time 11:59. “One more minute.”

“Until...?”

He’s silent for thirty-eight seconds, then he says, “Until this.”

Suddenly, the space above us lights up, colors shooting all around us in a kaleidoscope of reds and blues and greens.

Gasping, I look up to see the air above us full of glass lanterns, the surfaces painted with swirling black paint. The alley is covered wall to wall, and the end result gives the walls around us beautiful designs and dimension.

I laugh in surprise, twirling around to take in the entire place. “What is this?”

“We’re in the artist’s quadrant of the city. I don’t know why, but they do this every night, exactly at midnight.”

I spin around in a circle, arms out, smiling from ear to ear. He watches with a grin, leaning against one of the walls casually. I walk down the alley, eyes up, taking in everything.

It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.

The lanterns are each unique, like they were done by different people. Some are solid colors, others are mixtures.

I look back over at Rhysand, beams of red and blue and pink bouncing off his face, a smile playing at his full lips. It’s obvious he took me here because he knew I’d love it, and it makes me feel insanely special.

Still giddy with happiness, I bound over to him, put my hands on either side of his face, and press my lips to his.

For a second, we probably look like idiots, just standing there pressing our smiles together.

Then, like we’re in synch, the smiles fall away and we start to actually kiss.

His hands slip inside the jacket, linking at the small of my back and pulling me closer to him. He’s still leaning against the wall, back against the brick, and I put my hands on his chest, fingers digging into the corded muscle I find there.

Rhysand pulls back for a minute, traces his fingers over my face lightly. He looks so surprised and confused, I’m tempted to ask what’s wrong. But then his mouth is back on mine, moving more fervently, and I forget all about it.

His hands cup my jaw, tilting my face to where he wants it, then slide in my hair.

He tastes like honey and citrus, and I slide my tongue in his mouth, desperate for more. I moan at the taste of him, and he suddenly moves, like the sound unleashed something in him.

One hand grabs the back of my thigh, the other wrapping around my waist, and then I’m the one against the wall. The brick digs into my shoulder blades, but I hardly even notice, because he wraps my leg around his hips and presses us together.

His mouth is sliding down my jaw, sucking on the spot between my neck and shoulder softly. I make a low sound, slip my hands in his hair, and prepare to eat him alive.

And then the world goes dark.

The lanterns above us turn off, casting us in darkness, but we don’t stop for a few minutes. When we’re both breathless, he pulls away with a low chuckle and releases my leg.

I slide down him slowly, leaning against the wall for support.

What the hell was that?

Did I really just make out with a complete stranger in an alley?

The answer to that question--and the one of if I’d do it again--is hell yes.

He runs a hand over his lips, almost in disbelief, then takes a healthy step back and holds out a hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

I take another look at the disheveled hair, swollen lips, rumpled shirt. And I know without a doubt that if he were on my doorstep, looking at me with those bedroom eyes, I’d pull him inside without a thought.

“I think I should take a cab.”

Rhysand smiles, knowing exactly why. “I’m flattered.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, pushing him away and starting back toward the busier street.

Even though the street’s deserted, he manages to hail a cab easily, the bright yellow car slowing to a stop next to us. I open the back door, kiss his cheek, and slip inside. “Thank you for dinner. Even though you cheated.”

He rolls his eyes and shuts the door behind me. “I’ll call you.”

I nod, feeling a little ridiculous for how happy that statement makes me. Tonight was... like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It was just dinner, I remind myself, but it doesn’t do any good.

It feels like the beginning of something.

The cab driver glances at me in the rearview mirror and laughs. “That good, huh?”

I don’t even respond because yeah. That good.

I’m halfway home before I realize I never even gave him my number. And I honestly wonder if I’ll ever see Rhysand Azara again.

_________________________________________________

Part 2

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