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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

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The one with Ethan’s suggestion

Description | Ethan suggests something that you had never seen coming - but for how long will you be able to resist him?

Content | smut with a bit of fluff

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3138

Tagging | @ginny-lily @mywritingonlyfans

***

"You did not just ask me that."

Ethan didn't even seem bothered by your shocked reaction. Instead, he simply kept looking at you, waiting, as if he had posed a completely normal question. You were certain it wasn’t though - who the hell just came out and asked one of their best friends to start hooking up? Surely this wasn’t just you thinking this was more than odd. You couldn’t stop looking at him, relaxing on a lounger in the sun, book still open in his hand, and how he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come one, Y/n,” Vic interjected from where she was relaxing on a pool float. “Poor Ethan hasn’t been with anyone since the pandemic started. The least you can do is help him get laid.”

“Get laid by me?!”

“Who else?” Victoria laughed. “It’s not like he can go out and pick up someone when we go on a promo tour in a week. We’re barely allowed to meet anyone as a safety measure.”

You shot her a pointed look and Victoria being your friend for the longest got it immediately.

“And no, I’m not gonna hook up with him. So it’s gotta be you.”

You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. Had everyone simply gone crazy? Surely, Thomas wouldn’t be on their side in this, right? You watched as he lazily strolled towards your loungers, cigarette in hand.

“Thomas!” You shouted over at him. “Ethan wants me to hook up with him!”

“Fucking finally,” Thomas laughed as you stared back in horror. Was everyone in on this madness? “He’s been moping around for ages. About time he gets laid and relaxes.”

“See?” Ethan interjected. “Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Fine,” Ethan shrugged. You hated how much he didn’t seem to care - how he had posed a question like that without an ounce of awkwardness and how your rejection didn’t seem to faze him in the least. You knew he was open about sex and sexuality, you’d been part of countless conversations among the band and had seen him pick up people at parties more than once, but this unnerved you. "If you change your mind, I'm available."

And with that Ethan went back to his book, Victoria went back to floating around the pool and Thomas went back to smoking his cigarette. But you weren't going to go back to anything, because whether you liked it or not, Ethan's suggestion would continue playing in your head for the unforeseeable future.

***

Three days. It had been three days since that fateful day at the pool and you could barely stand to look at Ethan. It wasn't because you were embarrassed - you all spoke about such things quite openly - nor were you angry at him having asked in the first place - if anything, it was flattering, a man such as Ethan considering you attractive in that way. It was more of a constant thought in your head whenever you were in the same room with him or he talked to you or you looked at him or he so much as popped into your mind. You kept lying awake at night, intrusive thoughts of Ethan towering over you clouding your brain. You didn't know what it was but you knew you didn't like it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Victoria approached you, taking a couple of tomatoes you had spread in front of you and started cutting them up. You had been in charge of making dinner most days, with one or the other coming to join you in your cooking endeavors sooner or later. Today it seemed to be Vic, who was giggling away beside you, quite obviously dying to tell you something.

"And what is up with you?" You asked, a smirk on your face. You were happy your friend seemed so giddy and it had you itching to know why.

"I have a date!" Victoria was never one to keep things like these to herself for long - whenever she was positively excited about something, the world simply had to know. "Her name's Paula, she's on holiday here and we're going to go out for wine."

"Just wine?"

"Well, I'm gonna say, don't expect me back here tonight." She couldn't stop herself from smirking and then breaking out in another round of laughter and you joined freely. Good for her.

"I miss dates," you mused. "Or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I just miss at least staying the night with someone."

"You really need to get laid, babe."

"Who needs to get laid?" Damiano had appeared without warning, sneaking up on the two of you and pinching both of your waists teasingly before hopping on the counter next to where you were working. A slice of tomato was stolen and ended up in his mouth before you could react, only hitting him in the arm when it was much too late.

"Y/n," Victoria answered nonchalantly. You stared at her in annoyance but she didn't even catch your eye.

"So does Ethan! You guys should fuck."

"Not you too," you groaned. All of this seemed like a bad joke. In fact, you were starting to wonder if this was all some weird plot your friends had to get you to sleep with Ethan. But why would they?

"Huh?" Damiano sounded surprised but you didn't put it past him to simply put on a good act.

"Ethan asked her to hook up the other day."

"No way!" Damiano exclaimed. "He actually, fina- I mean, he actually asked you that?"

"Yup, and she shot him down," Victoria explained. You were getting more annoyed by the second. Especially because it felt like your love life (or lack thereof?) was being discussed without you. Plus, you couldn't shake the feeling they knew something you didn't.

"Aw, poor Ethan. You know, you should really give him the chance. Make the most of the fact that you've both got the house to yourselves tonight." Damiano's eyebrow wiggle earned him a tomato slice to the face due to pure irritation on your side. He wasn't bothered, quickly shoving it into his mouth and happily munching away on it.

"Wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?"

You sounded much more panicked than necessary. So what if you were alone in the house with Ethan? You'd survive. Easily. You'd read a bit of your book, maybe watch a movie, go to bed. You didn't even have to spend time with him. Right?

"Going out with my girlfriend, she's in town for work. Not sure where Thomas is off to but he's already left" Damiano shrugged, finally hopping off the counter to hopefully stop being in the way. "So, if there's anything you want to do, do it tonight."

***

So this was it. You were alone with Ethan. No, this was nothing. So what if you were alone with him? Not like it was going to change anything at all.

You had said your goodbyes for the night to the two lovebirds, wishing Victoria the most possible fun on her little date, before pouring yourself a glass of wine and retreating to the patio. You had no idea where Ethan was and you didn't mind.

The sun was setting, the temperature was more than bearable and you had your book lying next to you. Eyes closed trying to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, your hand grasped the stem of the wine glass, and fuck that moth scared the living daylights out of you. And caused you to spill your wine all over your blouse. Red wine. Crap. One was supposed to wash those out immediately, right? Right? You realised you had no idea, as you sprinted towards the upstairs bathroom, already unbuttoning for fast removal.

You threw the door open, feet set to move towards the basin, when you realised you weren't alone in the room. It happened in slow motion, as much as you hated the cliché of it all.

Ethan's back was towards you, strong, hard muscles visible under an array of water droplets that were slowly, slowly making their way downwards, hypnotising you and keeping your gaze locked on them. Your eyes were still travelling lower and lower when he noticed your presence, turning around out of reflex, and you could not help but notice he was not wrapped in a towel, nowhere close, when your eyes fell on-

Oh.

In a rare moment of clarity, you tore your gaze away, looking up at his face instead, just to find him eyeing up your cleavage. Your blouse was halfway undone, putting your white lace bra on full display. Then his eyes snapped away and looked into yours instead. For a second, it felt like the world was standing still. Your brain only worked for another moment before it decided to let your body - or potentially your heart? - take over.

You told yourself 'fuck it' - or maybe you said it out loud, judging by the sudden smirk appearing on Ethan's face - and reached for the man in front of you. He reciprocated without hesitation, pulling you in and meeting your mouth with his, as he walked you backward until you hit the wall. His body felt hot against yours, providing a stark contrast to the cold tiles pressing into you. His hands cradled your face softly, fingers stroking along your cheeks, while he kissed you, open-mouthed, in a way that left you breathless.

If you had ever had doubts that sex with Ethan would not be worth it, they had evaporated into thin air altogether.

His hands had started roaming your body, finally landing on the last buttons of your blouse. You had expected him to slowly open them up, but instead, he tore the fabric apart in one swift movement, buttons flying and hitting the ground with little clacking noises. You wrecked your mouth from him for a moment, staring at him in both surprise and awe.

"Spiacente," he murmured, although he didn't look all that sorry. "I couldn't help myself. I can get them sewn back-"

"Ethan, stop talking and start fucking me."

Your bold words took both of you by surprise but none of you minded, simply relieved that you were on the same page. His hands were now grasping tightly onto your thighs and, and without giving you a warning, he lifted you up, still pressed against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively and he took a step back, finding his strength and balance, and slowly carrying you into his bedroom.

You couldn't stop staring at him. Ethan's beauty was a sight to behold on any given day, but the way his lips looked kissed after just a short while and his eyes had that kind of shine to them that had never previously been directed at you, it felt like you were looking at something ethereal. Never mind the fact that you knew he was completely naked, not just the toned chest that was pressing into your torse, but everything else. Hell, you were sure you felt a certain something press into the back of your thigh quite shamelessly.

He dropped you on his bed, leaving you to bounce slightly on the mattress as you lied on your back. He looked like he was about to devour you and you just knew you'd bend to his every wish.

Without any further hesitation, Ethan moved onto the bed, immediately grabbing onto the shorts you were wearing and slowly pulling them down your legs. He held eye contact with you the whole time and you were convinced you had never seen anything sexier in your life. Your panties were the next piece to leave your body. Normally, this would be the point you got nervous about, crossing your legs, hiding behind hands, anything to protect what little of your modesty you had left, but this was different. Ethan took all shame away from you.

"Is this okay?" He asked, as he slowly crawled upwards, spreading your legs and leaving hot, wet kisses along your calves. As much as you appreciated him asking for consent, you almost had to laugh - at this point in time, you had lost all willpower to deny him anything. So, with a blissful smile on your face, you eagerly nodded at him, your hand reaching down and tangling itself into his hair. He groaned as you gave a little tug and the sound was more than enough to get you even wetter than you already were.

At least that was what you thought up until Ethan put his mouth on you. You had been expecting a bit more foreplay, maybe his fingers, but instead you felt his tongue lick along the length of you. Your moan loudly echoed through the room and you had never been so glad that Vic, Thomas and Damiano had deserted the two of you in the house.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as he started flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. The fact that you could feel his hair tickling the inside of your thighs only seemed to make you more sensitive. Suddenly, one of his fingers entered you, quickly to be joined by a second. Your back arched off the bed in an involuntary reaction as your breathing became more and more laboured. You could hear- hell, you could feel him chuckle against you.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head away from you.

"I'm not going to be able to take much more, Ethan," you confessed. He looked up at you with wide eyes, chin wet from going down on you and fingers still slowly moving in and out, and you momentarily forgot what you meant to say. "So if you wanna fuck me, I suggest you get a move on."

He didn't need to be told twice. You still sighed in disappointment when he actually removed his fingers from you but you were quickly distracted by him moving them to your mouth and slipping them in. You eagerly sucked on them, twirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, and his composure was slipping with every second he looked at you. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth to crawl further up your body, his cock moving against your leg. He was so well endowed it would have almost been frightening if you hadn't been so turned on.

Ethan kissed you with a force that was unparalleled. There wasn't even a question about who was in control. As his fingers trailed from your neck down past your collarbones you both suddenly seemed to remember you were still wearing a bra. You made short work of the piece of fabric, carelessly throwing it across the room, and he thanked you by squeezing your soft flesh in the most delicious way. You repaid the favour by letting your hand wander to his cock and giving him a few strokes. He immediately let out the most sinful moan you had ever heard, head collapsing onto your cleavage.

"I don't think you need any more help from me down there," you giggled.

"With you lying under me like this, I sure don't."

Moving your legs around his waist once more, you slowly guided him into you, your walls swallowing him bit by bit, careful not to stretch you out too fast with his size. It felt like heaven on earth. You both moaned in pleasure as Ethan slowly started moving, making sure you were comfortable as he looked into your eyes, while you broke the eye contact time and time again, too overwhelmed to leave your eyes open every time he thrust into you. You kept grabbing onto what you could, the back of his head, his shoulders, his butt, as he increased his speed, hitting you in all the right places every single time.

You knew you weren't going to last long, not with him on and in and all around you, not with his fingers playing with your nipple, not with his lips clumsily attaching themselves to various places around your neck and shoulders, and as you felt his hand between your legs, softly circling your clit once again, you were gone. You came in waves of euphoria, unashamed of the volume of your moans and the strength with which you pulled on his hair. Your actions, combined with you clenching around him and a few more thrust, had him follow you moments later.

He carefully slipped out of you, never once letting go of you, and turning you onto your side with him so you were facing each other. Both of you were still breathing heavily, vision cloudy, but intertwined. You were convinced he had ruined you - there was no way anyone was ever going to live up to how he made you feel.

"So, did it live up to your expectation?" You couldn't help but giggle as you posed the question. "Getting laid again after such a long time?"

Ethan pushed a damp strand of hair from your face. You hadn't expected such softness.

"It wasn't actually about getting laid, you know."

"Huh?"

"It was about you."

"Okay, you've lost me now," you said, brows knitting as your hand searched for his, finger entangling the same way your legs were doing. "What are you talking about?"

"I... I've liked you for a while. And I tried so much, but you never even noticed."

Your mind replayed the last few weeks you had spent with the band in their summer house. Instances of Ethan bringing you food, cocktails, adjusting the shade to make sure you were in it, offering to put sunscreen on your back. Moments of him searching for your company, moving much closer than necessary in the heat, arms constantly touching when you were sitting next to each other. Jokes and teasing from the others, drunken remarks. You hadn't paid attention to any of it. You wondered how you could have been so blind to a man so wonderful.

"Wait, so instead of asking me out like a normal person, you suggested we hook up?" You couldn't keep the laughter in now. The situation was simply too ridiculous and you had not yet stopped riding on your high from the endorphins he had caused.

"It was Vic's idea." He buried his head into the sheets, but you could still see his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "She knew I missed sex and she said you mentioned something similar so she thought this was the way into your..."

"Pants?"

"Heart, actually."

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around him so that your noses were touching.

"Well, as embarrassing as it is, it somehow worked, didn't it?" You stroked over his head lovingly. "And I'm sure not letting you go any time soon."

#maneskin #maneskin imagine #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio fiction #ethan torchio x you #maneskin fiction #smut #my writings #ethan torchio

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obae-me · 3 years

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Maid!Brothers

Here you go folks, some maid brothers as a treat. I know these are also probably just what they did for the butler event but...maids. SFW for these ones, although with enough convincing, I might be pressed to make NSFW ones. Enjoy!

Congratulations! For better or for worse, and for the next few days, the demons that reside in the House of Lamentation are now your maids. Is this due to a curse? Another one of Diavolo’s somewhat sadistic schemes? A dare gone too far? Perhaps you’ve used your pact powers for good evil? Who knows at this point? And to be fair, who cares how it started when you have seven demons greet you at the door every morning?

Lucifer

He was very much not pleased at first. At all. But not for the reasons you’d expect. All of his time spent serving you completely is going to disrupt his enormous piles of work. However, Diavolo has given him a few days leave to...explore this new...career. Now that he’s in this situation with no way out for the foreseeable future, he has no choice but to be the best maid the likes of which you or the Devildom has never seen before. He must go the full mile for the sake of his pride. No one will be making fun of him once he perfectly fulfills his role, and just because he’s wearing a dress and an apron doesn’t mean he’s not still completely bone-chillingly intimidating. In fact, now that he has more free time and his eyes on you nearly everywhere you go, this new form of his is almost scarier.

He wears a traditional outfit; Victorian. One with the long unruffled skirt and sleeves. You hardly see him in white, so the stark pureness of his apron and headband are almost off-putting, but it grows on you quickly. The buttons on his collar and cuffs are a bright royal blue. He’s insistent on still wearing his gloves, which somehow only add more flair to his uniform. You never assumed he’d be caught wearing something like this, and yet he’s so confident in it, you could mistakenly assume he’s done this before.

His main chore is making sure the other maids (his brothers) are fulfilling their duties. He’s written up a beautiful schedule complete with shift changes and chore swaps so no one can complain too much. If he hadn’t done this, nothing would get finished, and all of his brothers would end up flocking to you instead. Of course, with him being in charge of this, no one can prevent him from making sure he gets to stick by your side more than the others by a considerable margin.

Everything he does is absolutely flawless. Your room has never been cleaner or more organized, although now you have a difficult time finding any of your things. Your pens are gathered up by...ink density? And your clothes by material? Now you’re resorted to ask for his assistance. He knows exactly what you like, and how you prefer it prepared. And once, you’d even begin to sneeze and he’d already prepared a handkerchief for you.

Of course...this new caretaking biz of his has unlocked a new side of him, or at least a side he’s never had the time or energy to show. He’s unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly, mind-numbingly...fussy. Constantly straightening your clothes, fixing your hair, asking you every five minutes if there’s anything he can do. You’re unsure if he feels you’re incapable of doing anything right by yourself, or if he just has such an overwhelming urge to take care of you that he can’t even let you put your own shoes on.

“Master, I can’t help but notice you’ve not completed your assignments for today. I’ve already prepared your desk, let me escort you to your room.”

“Master, I know Super Crunchy Devil-Sweet Cookies are your favorite, but they are not good for you. Here, I’ve already prepared a perfectly healthy snack. I know you’ll love it.”

“Master, it is five minutes till your bed-time. I am fully aware you are an adult...yes...nonetheless, I have your bed prepared and will not leave till you are safely in a slumber. I will tuck you in, you must get good sleep after all.”

“Master, let me make sure your bathwater is a safe temperature.”

“Master, let me cut your food for you.”

As the days dredge on, he gets more desperate. It’s been a while since you’ve done something on your own. Lucifer is almost always there. You enjoy it to a degree, but it’s a tad...how do we say...suffocating, knowing your every action is under his watchful gaze. At this moment in time, you’re still unaware if this is how he naturally is, or, without endless work to hold him back, if he’s spiraling out of control. Either way, as much as you appreciate him taking complete care of you, you’ll be happy when the old Lucifer is back.

However, as much as he pushes you, you enjoy the moments with him. You find more fondness for him with every soft brush of his gloves, with all the things he keeps hidden in his pockets only to brandish them whenever you need them.

At one point, you’d both been so drained from the day’s activities, you both went for a stroll in the garden to clear your heads. Yawning, you took a seat on the soft grass, your back leaned up against the trunk of a tree. As you listened to the wind rustle the leaves, Lucifer looked down at you with a small frown. Then, sighing, he joined you, tucking the fabric of his skirt against his legs as he sat. How long had it been since he had simply sat outside for some air? Too long. You both embraced the silence for a moment. No more chattering maids, no more assignments, just the sound of gentle breaths against the breeze. You tilted your head back, watching from the corner of your eye as Lucifer brushed a stray leaf off his apron.

“I’ve exhausted you,” he proclaimed in a soft voice.

You couldn’t quite tell him he hadn’t…”I’m just tired in general.”

He huffs, knowing he was right but not pushing you any further. “Here…” You feel his gloved hand cup the back of your head. The heart in your chest squeezes, but you allow him to guide your body in a lying position, head in his lap. You can’t find the breath to say anything, so you simply adjust into a comfortable position, bringing one of your hands close to your face to gently grasp the apron fabric.

You don’t remember falling asleep, so you don’t recall Lucifer’s arm wrapping around your waist, his sigh of relief when you get some rest, and his eventual slumber when he too lets the peace of your company lull him to sleep.

Maybe him being a maid wasn’t so terrible after all.

Mammon

He was also not happy. So unhappy in fact, he’d refused to have anything to do with this. How is he supposed to make money off this whole deal? Where’s the fun? The thrill? No, no, no, he was absolutely not going to participate. He expected some sort of begging or coercion, but actually each of his brothers were alright in knowing each of them would have more time with you with Mammon out of the way. Well, out of everything, he was not having that. Right after his outburst, he was all too happy to be onboard. He proclaimed he was going to be the best, the cutest, the most amazing maid ever. Naturally. So, all of his brothers might as well go home and leave it to him. The Great Mammon would take it from here. One, they were already home. Two, no, none of them were leaving. As a maid, he’ll most likely end up messing up a lot of things, but you’ve never seen him try harder in his life for something that wasn’t attached with a price tag. And that honestly made it worth it.

He wears a uniform with short sleeves and a mid-rise skirt that stops right at his knees. It sort of reminds you of a diner outfit more than a maid uniform, with two separate pockets sewn into the apron. The apron itself doesn’t go over the chest and around the neck, instead, it simply ties around the waist. The bow wrapped in his hair and his knee-high socks are a pleasing gold color, one that matches the sunglasses he still wears despite it not fitting the rest of his look.

His main chore is errand boy. He’s running from here and there to get you and his brothers what they need to carry out their chores. He’s always busy buying groceries, delivering things to your room, dropping off supplies for the other maids to use. Not only is he the fastest so this is more efficient, but it does a pretty good job of wearing him out at the end of the day.

He always has had the capacity to be cute, but somehow with this new occupation of his, he’s become increasingly adorable. And it’s during this time where you realize how much he cares and pays attention to you. He may be considered a terrible maid, but you appreciate his efforts and the gifts he bought for you, even if he had spent the money for food on it. And where Lucifer strives to keep you safe, Mammon strives to keep you entertained, even if it means going against his older brother’s carefully laid plans.

“Master! While I was out grocery shopping I saw your favorite snacks and snagged them for ya! If you eat them now, I’ll take the trash away so Lucifer never knows, eh?”

“Here is your dinner, Master. I’m sorry it’s so late, Satan was making it all wrong! Tch, What kind of maid forgets that you prefer it prepared soft and without any Super Spicy Devil’s Sauce? I had him remake the whole thing for ya.”

“Welcome home, Master! I’ve finished all my errands for today! So...can I...spend the rest of the day serving you personally?”

“Hey! Master! Lucifer is busy helping Asmo with the laundry, how about we sneak away? You deserve to have a little bit of fun, eh?”

“Master? Oi, Master?...I can’t sleep...can I get something for you? Anything?...No, I didn’t say nothin’, go back to bed.”

Despite the fact that he’s been working non-stop for a change, he’s not that different from the normal Mammon except...maybe not as tsundere. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the beam of joy in his face when he got to welcome you home. He’d make sure if you had another tasteless healthy dinner that there would be a steaming cup of ramen on your nightstand. He’d always keep a little gift in the confines of his apron pockets to give to you anytime he saw you. He’d no longer try to hide his affection, only now he’d excuse it away under the maid excuse. You’d miss it.

You’d especially miss the thrill of having him squirrel you away, the shared giggles between the two of you as Lucifer and his other brothers would run all throughout the house, all in a tizzy, looking for where you’d run off to. Mammon and you both were aware they’d find you in time, so you’d never take the moments for granted.

With one of those moments, he helped you up to the roof through the window. Absolutely dangerous? Probably, but he never once let you go. As he grasped your hand, helping you get steady footing amongst the shingles, the voice of frantic maids calling your title could be heard below. You lifted your head to look in Mammon’s eyes before the two of you started laughing.

“How long ya wanna bet?” The glint in his eyes shone brightly against the Devildom moon, the cheeky tug of his lips manifesting into a smirk.

“This time around?” A breathy scoff escaped your lungs, interrupted by the booming voice of Lucifer calling out Mammon’s name. You didn’t have long. “Ten minutes, tops.”

“Ten?” His eyebrows raised, and he gave a little tisk. “I say seven. If I win, I get to keep this little trinket in my pocket.” He pat his hand over the proclaimed pocket, your curiosity sparking. “If you win, I give it to you.” You both heard a door slam open, and so Mammon quickly grasped the sides of your shoulders to pull you both away from the edge. But it had been too late. Lucifer was on the roof before you two before you could even blink, dragging you both inside the house from the back of your collars.

You had figured Mammon won, since technically it was closest to his guess, however, later that night you found a strange little gift beside your bed. He’d won yet still given you his prize...

Levi

Secretly excited. A little embarrassed, but pleased about the fact that he basically gets to cosplay? Without anyone making fun of him? It’s a little dream of his, and he holds maids in high regard so he gets a short confidence boost. In fact, for the first time in a while, his brothers look to him for advice. He knows all about maids after all, so he knows how to act, what to do, and what to say. No longer is anyone teasing him for being knowledgeable about this topic. As a maid, his Moe points went up by 35, his Dandere points went up by 10, but your overall love for him goes up drastically.

You know he has to wear the most kawaii maid uniform you’ve ever seen. It goes mid-thigh, the skirt poofy from multiple ruffled layers. There’s an orange bow across the chest, some lining the skirt, and one large one in the back. It’s very Lolita, little lacy details scattered everywhere, even his headband. The only thing keeping his legs from being bare are the thigh-high stockings pulled over his feet. He was very embarrassed at first. He stayed in his room for who knows how long until he was sure everyone else was dressed up too. They tried teasing him, but the stars in your eyes and the exclamation of how cute he looked forced everyone else’s mouth shut. Now his siblings are the envious ones.

Levi doesn’t really have one main chore, but his focus naturally centered around anything water related. Watering the several plants in the house, washing dishes, scrubbing tubs, mopping the floors etc. He takes on more than anyone expected him to, but he doesn’t mind having a longer list. Not only is it simply a maid’s duty which he’s proud to uphold, but he sees them as objectives. Plus he doesn’t mind keeping busy, he’d go crazy without something to do.

Surprisingly enough, Levi is almost neck and neck with Lucifer as best Maid. He gets things done quickly and efficiently. Levi’s determination has helped the House of Lamentation stay squeaky clean, and his shy stuttery nature somehow enhances this role of his. If it’s his unhinged personality or simply an act, you’ll never know. He can hardly look you in the eye, keeping his head bowed, and whether it goes against Lucifer’s wishes or not, he’s all too ready to help get you whatever you desire, as a good maid should.

“W-welcome home, Master. No, please don’t step there! The...the floor is still wet, please forgive me. H-here, let me help guide you to the stairs.”

“Let--let me pull your chair out for you, Master. There we go...is that good? Did--did I do okay?”

“I can’t believe Lucifer denied you what you wished for?! That’s not what a maid is supposed to do! They’re supposed to do everything! They should do what their master asks with a grin and a bow! I can be ten times the maid he is!...So...tell me what it is you want, Master, and I--I will do everything I can to fulfill it for you…”

“I-I know I’m not as good as the other maids, but please, Master, let me do something for you!”

Nothing makes him happier than seeing the smile on your face when he does something right. Only, he makes you a little worried. He’s been pushing himself really hard for this. Suddenly changing his lifestyle all at once must be difficult for him. How has he not gone crazy without playing any of his games?

So you indulge him when you have the chance, ordering him to play a game with you or recommend a new show. Then the excited Levi comes back into view, some of the stress melting away as he describes the shows he knows you will love the best. You do like Maid Levi, but you miss his little rants about broken plot, his cries over character death. The otaku that you’d come to know he had hidden himself away these last few days. You’d be happy for him when it was all over.

Until then, you’d let him take care of you. Even if you didn’t need or want anything, you’d go send him off to do something, watching him swell with happiness. Whenever he’d return, you’d make him bow, taking the time to rub his head and assure him he was doing a swell job.

“Why don’t you get some rest, Levi? You’ve done a lot for me today.”

“I can’t!--I mean, I’m alright, Master. It’s my duty to always be attentive!” He attempted a little curtsey, but you could notice his legs slightly tremble.

“Levi…” Once again, you brushed your hand over the top of his head, a finger curling around one of his strands. “You’ve done the most out of everyone here, and even Lucifer is exhausted. I order you to get some rest.”

“But--”

“You would deny a direct order from your Master?” You raised an eyebrow, but kept the soft smile against your lips. He stiffened, but then slowly shook his head. “Good. While you’re at it, I order you to eat a good meal, take a shower, and get at least 8 hours of sleep, understood?”

All he could do was stammer, shifting the weight of his body from one foot to the other. How long had it been since he’d taken decent care of himself? Much too long, probably. You’d felt strange at first dishing out orders left and right, but you didn’t hesitate with these, holding your ground until Levi lowered his head and obeyed.

At least you still had a few more days left with this power. Maybe you’d make him say something nice about himself tomorrow.

Satan

His annoyance was outweighed by the intriguing curiosity. He’d read about maids in some of his history books, but never had the opportunity to see one much less become one. So, he decided to give it a shot as a learning experience. After all, it was only for a few days, and unlike some of his brothers, he could handle nearly anything for a few days. Besides, he saw this as another opportunity to annoy Lucifer at any turn as well as one-up him by being the better servant.

He wears a cat maid outfit, he really didn’t see another option. The fake cat ears atop his head match his hair color perfectly, as well as the fake tail tied around his waist, sticking out of the skirt. There’s a small kitty shaped hole in the middle of his chest and a green paw print pattern in the corner of his apron. A shiny golden bell attached to a green ribbon adorns his neck. He wasn’t embarrassed putting it on, but once he saw the look on your face when you first caught the sight of him, for once he nearly hid away. He could hardly breathe once you started playing with the bell strapped to his throat.

His main chore is cooking. He knows his way around the kitchen well enough and always knows the proper cookbook if he needs to look up something new. Plus, he always tries to go the extra mile, adding little designs to the food he makes for you. Of course, they’re all cat themed. Not only does he find this a great creative outlet, but he relishes the look of excitement on your face when he lifts the lid to the tray. He loves it even more when you upset Lucifer by setting aside your work for him.

His rather bold and assertive nature slowly melted away with time as a maid. Shy Satan is a rare character indeed, and it has you wondering if this is some sort of act he’s putting on for your amusement. He has been secretly taking lessons from Levi after all. Wherever this new side of him came from, you did your best to enjoy it while you could.

“Here is your lunch, Master...I...do you really want me to say it?...Ahem, I--I’m sure you’ll find it cooked to purr-fection…”

“You called for me, Master? Really? You--I--fine...Nya~...can...I go back to work now?”

“I’m not one to question you, Master, but...Is petting my head while I read to you truly necessary?...Alright then...Just don’t tell anyone else about it, please.”

“Master, do you know anything about the strange red light that’s been distracting me from my duties? You know nothing, huh? Hmm…”

“Meow-ster, Paw-lease, I beg of you, no more cat puns.”

Out of everyone so far, you’ll be the most upset when Satan goes back to his normal lifestyle. He would always be off, doing whatever he wanted, requesting your presence at the strangest and almost most inconvenient of times. As a maid, you always knew where he was, and now he would receive affection on your terms, not his. Although, you can tell it’s driving him a little stir crazy, his head snapping to around with the slightest of noises.

So, you thought leaving him to his own devices for a day and not teasing him would be good for him. So, that day, when he brought you breakfast, you thanked him and nodded, beaming at the whiskers on your pancakes, but then sent him away. He curiously tilted his head, but left you in peace. Lunch came, and you did the same, but this time he frowned. You even went as far as to tell him not to worry about dinner, thinking he needed more of a break, but that’s when he spoke his feelings.

“Have I upset you in some way today, Master?” He turned his head slightly away from you, but kept your gaze.

“Of course not, I just thought you deserved a break from my joking today. I’m sure it’s not fun, being stuck inside most of the day, having me as your master.” You gave him a grin of assurance, but he only seemed more upset.

“Do you think I would put as much effort into my service as I do if I didn’t think you were a worthy Master?” He took a small step towards you. “I’m here because I want to be here, so don’t push me away.” He brushed his forehead against your shoulder, blushing but smiling brightly as you rubbed the top of his head.

He could stay like this for a while longer, you didn’t mind.

Asmo

Possibly the most excited of the bunch. Typically, he’s never a fan to take care of someone other than himself, but he did count you as an exception. He would look absolutely adorable for the next few days? And so would his brothers?! It had taken centuries of pointless begging to try to get them to dress up, but they never did, but somehow you always managed what he could not. He was a little clueless at first on how to take care of someone else, but then he figured he would treat you like he did himself, which resulted in the most caring and loving Asmo you’d seen so far.

Did he already have an outfit in mind? Most definitely. Honestly, he attempted to wear nothing but an apron, but that plan was quickly quashed by his siblings. However, he still found a way to rock the maid outfit in his own way. It was a French style uniform, the top squeezing him like a corset. The skirt was so short, it just reached the top of his thighs. Instead of socks, he opted for fishnet tights and a pair of high heel shoes. How he would get anything done in that, you would never know, but he managed despite all odds.

His main chore consisted of mostly laundry. Washing all the sheets, clothes, and curtains in the house, which would take up a surprising amount of his time. He’d make your bed and fold your clothes, preparing an amazing outfit for you to wear the next day. Other than that, he always made sure you and everything else around him looked amazing.

Not much changed at first, he seemed like normal Asmo, complimenting his looks, standing in strange poses as he went about his daily chores. Then, slowly, he talked about you more, paying more and more attention to you till the unthinkable happened, he neglected himself to make sure you were taken care of.

“Oh, Master! Look at what I’m doing! Wouldn’t you say I’m absolutely ravishing as a maid?”

“Master! I picked out an adorable outfit for you to wear tomorrow, it’ll almost be like we’re matching!”

“Master, please, I know Lucifer said this needs to be done, but look at your eyes. Come with me, we must treat you at once.”

“I’m not sure, Master, I think in this case, Lucifer is right. A healthy Master is a beautiful Master! Although, I think you’re breathtaking already. I couldn’t serve just anyone you know!”

“Shut up, Mammon, I don’t care what my hair looks like right now! Where did the Master run off to?! It’s been hours since they drank any water! Their lack of self care is going to be the death of me…”

Asmo ends up being another one for team health. He does your skin care in the morning and at night before you go to bed. Somehow, he always knows when you run out of water, right by your side to refill your cup/bottle before going back to his chores. Asmo makes a great maid, and you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t be sad to see him go back to normal.

Somehow, he had the magical potential to make coming out of your comfort zone as comfortable as could be. Would he still do the same when this was over? Well, you guessed you had to enjoy it in the moment while it lasted, while he could put you on a pedestal without shoving other people beneath it.

“Which one for tomorrow, Master?” He held up two articles of clothing, both of which were way different than you would normally think to wear.

You frowned, rubbing the fabric of one of the options between your fingers. “For me? I don’t think either of those...work with me. Is there something else?”

“Not work with you? Oh but, Master, anything can work for you. For example, This one,” He took the top and held it against your chest as he gestured to the mirror, “makes your eyes look amazing. And this one makes anyone look amazing, trust me.”

You took a deep breath in, after all, you’d only really be wearing it at home. “Okay, um...this one. Let’s be bold.” He squealed, setting the right outfit aside for the next day, mumbling something to himself about the most beautiful master in the Devildom...whatever that meant.

He always found a way to make you shine, and being a maid didn’t change that.

Beel

He was rather indifferent to the predicament. Everyone was fine? No injuries or foreboding death? He could still eat? No problem there then. It would disrupt his workout schedule more than he preferred, but he found creative ways to use his chores like an at-home gym session. Plus, any excuse to get to hang around you more or do something for you is something he can get behind. Unlike his other brothers, he’s not seeing this as a competition. He’s going to do what he can to the best and fullest of his abilities, just like he always does. For this reason, he’s always been a sort of foundation to depend on, and you’re glad his new position won’t change anything with him.

His uniform...was an issue at first. Either his sleeves and shoulders would rip or the buttons would pop off the chest, so it took a while until something could be form fitting but remain intact. It had gotten to the point where they opted out of sleeves altogether, they were just such a hassle. But other than that, Beel is surprisingly comfortable in a skirt. There’s no issues with the fabric needing to stretch and bend around his thighs. He could do squats for days without any tears! He does find it hard not to eat the red bows and ribbons on his outfit...they just look like pasta in the right lighting.

Like Levi, he has a lot of scattered cleaning to keep him busy. He mows the lawn, wipes down every window, and handles the vacuuming. It's a sight to behold watching him work. At one point, he got so focused, he picked up an entire couch with just one arm as he cleaned underneath. Do you slyly hide things under couches now to have him get it? That’s a secret only you know the answer to.

He’s very good with his tasks, but he struggles with, as Levi calls it, “Moe”. He does his best, and while he might not get the highest points in this category, just him trying is absolutely enough. He desperately wants to succeed, even if being cute is entirely new to him.

“Here, Master, I found this flower while I was working in the garden...do you want it?”

“Master, I...Satan has banned me from the kitchen...do you have any snacks left? I promise I’ll make up for it.”

“Master, please! Do not come in here while I am cleaning! What if something hurts you? Here, let me escort you to safety.”

“No….I won’t accept your dinner...you--you have to eat, Master. I know it’s not your favorite, but it’s good for you.”

“Hey! Where are you trying to go while no one’s looking? It’s not safe going alone, so I will come with you. Wherever you go, Master, I will be there with you…”

He and Lucifer make a great overprotective gang. Beel hardly ever goes against his older brother’s wishes, and in this case, he agrees that your health and safety come above all else. And only now is he worried about every little corner of the house. Boxes? Dangerous. Hot food? Dangerous. How could he live with himself if you burnt your mouth? But not to worry, he is there to make sure you are completely safe.

On one hand, you thoroughly appreciate his consideration, but on the other, you almost miss independence. Although, everything Beel does is with a little smile and those puppy-dog eyes you never have the strength to shoo away.

And actually, his concern did come in handy on a few occasions. There was the time where the cleaning chemicals ended up being dangerous for humans, the time a stack of boxes nearly fell on top of you, but the one you remember most, the time the lawn mower snagged on a pebble and shot it out. With incredible speed, he had tackled you to the ground. You were about to question him until the sound of breaking glass could be heard behind you.

“That was far too close,” Beel sighed, still covering you with his body.

His weight of pure muscle started to weigh heavy on your lungs. “B-Beel…” He quickly got up, helping you to your feet. He straightened the new wrinkles in your clothes, frowning as he cupped your face, squishing your cheeks as he checked you over for wounds. “Beel..I’m okay.”

He let you go as you grabbed his wrists, his brows furrowed deep in worry. “See, Master, I told you it’s dangerous. We should go right to your room.”

“You also said the same thing about my soup, Beel…but...thank you...you always know right when to get me out of trouble.”

With that, he widely beamed. “Of course, Master. That’s my main goal. I will do anything to make sure you are safe...”

Of course, none of that changes whether Beel is a maid or not. Protection is what he does best, that and eating. Although, as a maid, you never have to worry about him stealing your food...so you at least for a bit longer, your snacks are safe.

Belphie

He wasn’t the biggest of fans about the notion of being a maid. It just...sounded like so much work. Endless amounts of chores and menial labor? No thank you. Other than picking up after himself and the occasional chore rotation, cleaning for him was saved for mostly punishments passed out by Lucifer. So, being a maid sounded like torture. However, three things finally convinced him to come around to the idea. One, he always enjoyed ruffling Lucifer’s feathers whenever he could, and this had a lot of potential. Two, Beel was going along with it, and usually he followed his twin wherever he went. And three, you told him it was fine that he didn’t want to do it, which suddenly persuaded him to go along. He never said that he didn’t want to, but now that you mentioned it, he was going to do the opposite.

His uniform is extra poofy and soft. The sleeves are round, the skirt almost sticks out more than Levi’s, and his legs are covered in fleece-lined leggings. His apron and headband are covered in a cow print pattern, and a purple choker necklace decorates his neck. You attempted to coax his tail free to tie a small cowbell around the end of it, but he didn’t entertain the idea. Too noisy.

He’s mostly assigned to dust and straighten cushions and pillows. However, the idea was a bit flawed seeing as how he’d usually end up falling asleep on aforementioned pillows, only to have to have them be messed up right after he fixed them. Although, to be perfectly honest, he’d end up falling asleep no matter what chore he’d been assigned. Just seeing him work though is a feat in itself.

Belphie as a maid hardly changes a thing personality wise, he still tries to pry you away from your responsibilities, tempting you to join him in his slothful ways. So, alongside Mammon and Levi, he focuses on making you happy first and foremost, only, he hopes your wishes coincide along his own.

“Hey, Master, you look tired, how about you come take a nap? I did just fluff up your pillows for you, don’t they look cozy?”

“What does it matter what Lucifer suggested? You’re the Master, do whatever you want. He won’t be able to stop you.”

“I...zzz...no don’t eat that...Beel...Huh!? No I wasn’t sleeping, Master, I was just testing this cushion’s comfort levels. It passes.”

“Okay, I usually say it as a joke, but you’ve been up way too late, Master. Here, it’s a nice cup of hot chocolate I made for you, it should make you sleepy. Once you’re done, we’re going straight to sleep. Yes, I said we.”

He might not have changed all too much, but he does seem a bit happier, not as nonchalant about everything, plus he does get an absolute kick out of seeing Lucifer work alongside his siblings like everyone else. Although, the nighttime is when he thrives. While everyone else is asleep, he makes nightly rounds, ensuring everyone gets good rest, even Lucifer as much as Belphie acts like he can’t stand him.

During the night, if you can’t sleep or end up waking during odd hours, he enjoys being the only maid around. He can have you to himself, and it’s hard to deny a Master who looks as cute as you do when you’re sleepy.

“Another restless night?” He snuck into your room without a sound. He always seemed to know when you were awake.

“Yeah...just my brain won’t shut up I guess.” You groaned, your body trying to remind you that you were exhausted, your muscles aching as you moved.

“That won’t do at all. As much as I would enjoy you being up with me, my Master needs good rest.” He shook his head, and held out a single finger as he told you to wait before speeding away. When he returned, he threw a few more pillows onto your bed and unfurled a different blanket. Albeit a little forcefully, he shoved you back down onto the bed, pulling the new blanket over your shoulders. It surrounded you with fuzzy warmth, your eyes already heavy. The pillows smelled like sugar and lavender. “A little bit of help from Asmo and a nice dryer.” He settled down on his knees near your bedside, telling you stories about the stars until you fell into a restful sleep.

He might not be the best at his tasks, but he always served you in his own little ways.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

“Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I’ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y’all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor xyou #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #thor odinson x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt12

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thekrazykeke · 3 years

Text

See You Again [2]

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Relationship(s): Uta & reader.

Summary: in the sound of silence, we found sanctuary. in every word unspoken, love.

Warning(s): Angst, unspoken feelings. Pre-canon events but also very ambiguous timeline-wise. Disturbing mental imagery. Canon typical gore.

This little series was never meant to have a happy ending, so no screaming at me. I’ll accept your appreciation for my love of angst in reblogs, likes, comments or tears.

Seriously though, in all honesty, I hurt myself as I wrote this.

I dunno, I might indulge that impulsive urge of mine and write a one shot where they actually get together. Most likely not though, so no one hold their breath ahahaha.

[i.]

A smart person would never have returned to the little out of the way mask shop in the 4th Ward. You’d have chalked up the experience as weird and as common sense dictated, forgotten all about it.

That is the safer route, the sane option.

So of course, you decided to be stupid. You kept coming back to the shop, although you were careful with how you planned your visits, spacing them out in between sight seeing and being a general tourist.

The added bonus of your frequent visits being that although Uta’s face didn’t really change much expression-wise, you got the feeling that he was always a little surprised to see you.

“Do you really like it here that much?”

Pulling the oni mask away from your face, you glanced at Uta who stood a good distance away from you, hand in pocket, hip cocked against the edge of the counter. “What’s that now?”

“I said, ‘do you really like it here that much?’” Uta repeated himself, red on black eyes intently trained on your face. “This is the second time this week you’ve come by without buying anything.”

“Oof.” You exaggeratedly clutched at your chest. “That hurt, Uta-san. With how frequently I come by here, one would think you’d treat me as more than a customer. We’re friends now.”

“We’re not.”

The words are stated so bluntly and again, you clutch at your chest, miming being struck by an arrow. Uta didn’t respond to your joking around and playing, just stared at you. So, you cut the crap, reaching into your back pocket with a mock pout. “How much for this mask? I think it suits me.”

“10504.50 yen.” At the sight of your suddenly wide eyes and dropped jaw, Uta’s blank expression cracked, he smiled slightly and just for a split second. “Also, the mask doesn’t suit you.”

You turned your back to him, carefully returning the oni mask to the display it’d been set up on. The next second you turned around, you nearly jumped out of your skin at how close Uta is now. “Hey now! Shit, you need a bell or something.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t pay attention.”

You can’t even pull off your comedic routine and drop your head in an ‘ashamed’ manner because you’d probably most likely hit your head against his chest, he’s standing that close. Before you could ask him to either back up and inquire what was his reason for being in your personal space, a tattooed finger reached out, lightly touching your chin, encouraging you to look up, so that’s what you did.

“...I can create a mask for you. Something that suits you.” He’s now adjusting your face, the faintest touch causing you to move this way and that.

“Aww! That’s nice of you, Uta-sa-”

“The base color would be silver, perhaps. And the eyes would sewn shut, the better to hide your grief and... the anger.” He’s musing aloud, words quiet and almost a whisper, but you heard him. Part of you think it’s deliberate, that he’s making fun of you, mocking you.

And it worked.

You reached a hand up, setting it upon his wrist. Uta blinked, staring down at your hand, then his unique gaze switched to you, and he.... for a lack of better words, it’s like he snapped out of that artist’s mode. He dropped his hand and took one step out of your personal bubble then another and another before whirling around and started walking away.

He lifted a hand in farewell, waving it about in a sort of shooing manner.

“Come back again in two to three weeks.”

That should have been the end of you and his interactions.

Regardless of how intriguing he is, he’d pressed on one of your triggers, maybe even on purpose, and you already had too short of a life to put up with the bullshit. Then again, maybe it was for that reason entirely that you decided that you were gonna keep seeing him, even after he finished the mask, to annoy him to death of course.

Until he told you upfront to go away, you wouldn’t. That’s what you decided.

And with that resolution settled in your head, you could go about your business. You enjoyed the sights, the food, and although your judgement said it’d be a bad idea, you had a couple of one night stands. The first is a lawyer that you’re like pretty sure has kids and a wife, and the other is a stressed college kid.

The experience left you unsatisfied and irritated.

Since your last encounter with Uta had been...awkward and strained, you decided to bring a peace offering. Cream puffs for yourself with green tea and a cup of black coffee for him. You’d picked up on the fact that he liked the beverage without sugar and cream like the total heathen he is. You idly wondered if he even enjoyed sweet things or maybe he was one of those weird folks who liked sour and spicy stuff all the time.

The fact that you’re even thinking about this and it didn’t sink in as odd or out of place until the moment you crossed the threshold of HYSY Studios, taking note of the fact that the place is as gloomy and empty of customers as always.

“’Ey! Uta, where you at!?”

There’s a vibration against your leg. You juggle the items in your hold carefully before tugging out your cellphone and entering the passcode to unlock the phone. The most recent text message you’d received from Uta about four minutes ago informed you of the fact that he’s in the back of the studio, like the very, very back, where all the unused and returned masks were. Now the only reason you knew all this information is because of how often you pestered Uta about it.

You’re at an impasse.

You could do as he asked and bring your treat to him while you were at it or you could wait and avoid the potential jump scare that Uta was totally capable of inflicting upon you.

‘To go or not to go, that is the question.’

Everything pointed to the clear conclusion that no, you absolutely should not go back there. Every horror movie cliché ended with the female protagonist being killed or gravely injured because she was so stupid as to go in the dark, alone, by herself.

‘Uta isn’t a killer though.’ That’s what you tried to tell yourself, the argument weak and pitiful in your brain.

You did not know this man well enough to be in the back where it wouldn’t be easy access to the front door, where you couldn’t bolt if he did something strange. However, you did own a mini taser and always carried mace, just as a precaution, so...

So....

Slowly, reluctantly, you did as he instructed, every warning and life training you’d received up to this point in your life sending out red neon signs telling you to wait, not be an idiot, to please please stay where you are. And you ignored all those survival instincts, heading deeper into the studio, your footfalls loud and eerie the further in you went.

Until you find him.

He’s apparently unfazed by your belated presence, focus wholly consumed with his work. Red on black eyes glanced at you for but a moment and what you carried and then at the coffee. “There’s a mini fridge, leave everything there, except the coffee. I’m almost done.”

Having some mild experience with artists and creative sorts, you avoid looking at the mask he’s working on, instead setting down the coffee in an empty space he vaguely gestured to.

Then you walk the short distance to where the only mini fridge in the room is, reaching out, you pull it open. And it’s the scent that alerts you; the fresh tang of blood. It’s too late to stop yourself and you see it, everything. The jar of eyeballs, the carefully wrapped packages of ‘meat’.

‘I’m in a back room with the potential copycat Jeffery Dahmer or...or....’

You’re not an idiot, all these little things you’d casually dismissed because you hadn’t cared enough to pay attention, to see... And now here you are. Here you are.

Fuck.

Swallowing, you calm and dampen the inner voice sCREAMING, then casually as possible, grip wobbling only slightly, do you put your treat inside the mini fridge right alongside the human body parts and flesh, then close the door, turning around.

Uta is still hard at work on the mask but his movements are slowing down.

As if nothing is amiss, you stride over just as he finally pauses to take a sip of coffee. “This is one of the ways that you make masks. Really. That’s interesting…” And you meant it too. Legs crossed, you leaned against the table, watching the mask maker in his element.

He smiles at you in that enigmatic way. “Thank you.”

The visit continues without much else in the way of incidents and subtly unsubtle revelations.

You don’t really talk and Uta doesn’t make you.

Less than twenty minutes later, once he deems the mask complete, he stands up and stretches, arms raising overhead, revealing an expanse of creamy, pale, lean and muscled torso.

Glancing away a beat too late, you catch Uta as he smiles, again, the smile lengthens into a smirk. He reaches out and plucks up the half mask delicately, taking a step towards you and your heart traitorously lurches in your chest.

Self-preservation makes you want to run as he comes closer, closer, closer...

Logic keeps you rooted in place as he carefully puts the mask on you. Tattooed fingers brush the strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, lingering as he feels the flutter of your pulse beneath his fingertips.

“Your heart is racing like a hummingbird.” he muses. You stare out at him from beneath the safety of the mask, the bone surprisingly not pinching or cutting your skin. “And here I thought nothing could scare you.”

“Unfortunately fear makes up the majority of the human psyche.” You can’t help the quip, tone dry. “But you’re my friend, so it’s fine.”

That last comment causes Uta to blink and stare at you in blatant surprise for a minute or two. Then he pulls himself together and shakes his head, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. “...I suppose we are friends.”

“Cool. So how much for the mask?” You reach up, about to remove it but Uta swatted at your hands, the action hard enough to sting but not leave damage. You still squawk indignantly anyway.

“It’s free. Creating it got me out of my block, so thank you.” Bringing out a cellphone, he takes a couple pictures with you, making you turn, pose, and pretty much just show off.

Once he’s done, he snags your tea and cream puffs out the fridge, then walks you to the front of the studio, giving a small wave goodbye. Brain swimming with what you just learned, amazed that he hadn’t just killed you straight off, you glance at the chilled green tea in your hand then after mentally shrugging to yourself, you take a sip and shove a cream puff in your mouth.

Hell, after the day you’ve had, you deserve to be rewarded.

Time passes, as it inevitably does.

You receive more calls from Kiani, from other friends and family members, but you are resolute in staying in Japan.

Much to your surprise, you’d actually gotten comfortable being there. Though that might have had something to do with Uta, who you continue to visit, and if he’s surprised or put out, none of that shows on his face. It’s fun to drag him places, to be around him, and you can laugh at his jokes, even the deadpan, making-fun-of-humanity ones.

He even lets you meet his other ghoul friends, Itori and Renji.

Through it all, these changes and fun things, your health slowly, steadily, gets worse even as you and Uta get closer, muddling about in a rather confusing grey area of friends...and more...

As always, the two of you are hanging out, this time you’d dragged him to an amusement park, and he held onto some of the prizes you won, gamely snapped a couple photos of you in ridiculous poses and making silly faces, etc.

It felt like a date.

Like, you’re returning from a date.

When that thought ran through your brain, you automatically looked at Uta, catching sight of his profile in the light of the setting sun and your heart clenched as you realized that he’s beautiful.

It’s with difficulty that you manage to look away but not before he catches you staring from the corner of his eye. “You’re always looking at me… Yet, you never try and get closer…” Uta’s hands are in his pockets and he is barely a foot away. “Does fear keep you at a distance…” He took a step forward.

Coming almost uncomfortably close.

“Or is there another….”

Without conscious thought, you tilt your head up and your lips meet his.

The contact is light, barely a graze, and there’s the cool sensation of his lip ring...it’s odd but hardly distracting. Your heart is beating like a jack rabbit in your chest and you know this isn’t good for you.

As you go to pull away, to disconnect, that’s when Uta finally, finally, responds.

He places a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close before tilting his head, leaned in and kissed you again.

There’s nothing teasing or patient about it. He nipped your bottom lip, barely waiting for you to part your lips before his tongue twined and stroked, expertly playing with your own, and you felt a zing of excitement travel down you spine as your tongue lightly grazed his tongue ring.

Your right hand goes to his shoulder, squeezing, holding on desperately as your legs threaten to give out.

Effortlessly, Uta holds you up, his other hand going to the dip of your back, and when you break the kiss to get some air into your burning lungs, Uta peppers feather light kisses down the column of your throat, sucking a spot just behind your ear. Only when you gasp his name, a mere whisper of a breath really, only then, does he finally stop.

Uta tops that....bombardment off with a light kiss to your forehead, lingering. Then he murmurs into your ear, “That’s how you kiss me from now on.”

With his piece said, as if he hadn’t pretty much swept you off your feet and left you stuck in LaLa Land, Uta brushed a hand down his shirt, straightening out imaginary wrinkles, before he walked away. It took a few seconds for your brain to reboot and then you hurried after him, chastising him for being mean.

There are a hundred different words that lingered on the edge and never escape your mouth. A thousand questions you never got the answer to.

There are no more kisses between you and Uta.

You pass away in your sleep that night December 31, 2XXX at 11:59 P.M. alone in your rented hotel room, dreaming of an impossible reality; of happiness between yourself and the ghoul who for a brief moment, made you feel important, seen, and desired.

Almost as if he could love you.

#uta #tokyo ghoul #uta imagine #black reader #uta tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul imagine #uta x reader #tg #human reader #tg imagine #thekrazykeke

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

Superior Specimen - Chapter 6

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 6

Henry left soon after, grabbing a slice of toast as you’d stood in the kitchen in just your dressing gown, apologising for not being able to spend the day with you but he had meetings for work and for future dig’s planned for the southern hemisphere in the winter. You’d stood in the kitchen sipping your coffee for a long while after he’d left, thinking over what he’d casually dropped into conversation; was this a fling?, Was the fact that he would spend months at a time out of the country the reason why such a catch was still single? Or was this something he did; find a girl, romance them, and then leave them on ‘business’ once things got boring? You shook your head to rid yourself of those thought and immediately regretted it, your head hurting from your wound. You gingerly touched it and brought your fingers in front of your face, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw there was no blood, but you realised you’d need to be careful for the next couple of days.

As you continued to sip your coffee you read over your emails again, re-reading the one from your boss and frowning; it seemed very short and curt, but he was probably just annoyed that one of his staff was due time off in their busiest season due to what was essentially a workplace injury.

You decided you were going to head to yoga, even without the joke earlier about needing to limber up, it would help you focus and recharge your mind as well as your body.

By the time Friday afternoon had arrived your week off was surprisingly busy; finally finding time to do all those small chores that you had put off for weeks, but also you’d taken the chance to go shopping for a dress for your date.

Rather than hit the chaos of Oxford Street or Westfield, instead you’d sought out a couple of vintage and secondhand dress agencies. Your morning had been fun, searching through unique pieces until you’d found it, the dress that was perfect. The woman that ran the vintage shop had guessed it had been a custom piece made in the 80’s, the midnight blue velvet piece fitting you like a glove. It had a thigh high split on one side and was patterned with silver sequins hand sewn on sporadically to make it resemble the night sky. It was strapless but had little hooks along the scalloped bust line that could hook over the cups of a strapless bra for extra security. You had a pair of silver heels in your wardrobe at home that would work perfectly with it, and with a bargain clutch from Primark you were sorted.

As you primped and preened that afternoon, fixing your hair and makeup, you smiled at your reflection as you pulled the dress on just a few minutes before Henry was due to pick you up. You were checking the contents of your clutch when the doorbell rang, frowning as you answered it and saw Henry on the small intercom screen;

“Henry? You know the code”

He grinned at the camera;

“Yes, but I’m being gentlemanly… this time I don’t already have you drunk or drugged in my arms…”

You pressed the buzzer to let him in, flicking the latch on the door as you went to fasten the straps on your heels, looking up just as he peered around the open doorway and stopped dead on his feet;

“Wow…”

He looked you up and down, his eyes wide as he took in your curves in the vintage dress, his gaze pausing at your chest on his way down and then on his way back up again.

You had a similar reaction when you saw how he was dressed; navy suit and kingfisher blue shirt, the top few buttons undone where it fitted his chest like a glove. He crossed the room slowly, like a predator stalking his prey, resting his hands on your hips and ducking his head to kiss you before pulling back to admire your cleavage close up;

“I must say, I am a big fan of this dress” He ran a fingernail over the top of your breast, your skin prickling in Goosebumps at his touch before he opened his jacket and pulled a flat velvet box from the inside pocket and handed it to you;

“You remember when we first started talking properly, that I said I’d brought you something back from Siberia?”

Your eyes went wide;

“Henry… what is this?”

“Open it and see”

In disbelief you pulled the box open and let out a small gasp; nestled within the box was a delicate necklace, a raw amethyst gemstone set into a delicate silver chain. As you held the box he lifted the chain, walking behind you so he could bring it over your head, his fingers nimbly fastening it before he traced his fingertips over your bare shoulders and pressed a kiss to your neck;

“You look stunning… the platinum looks beautiful on you”

You spun around, your hand resting on the necklace;

“Platinum?! I thought it was silver! Henry, this is too much… I can’t take this, not when it’s only our first date…”

He brought his hands to yours and gently clasped them, pressing a kiss to your fingers before he smiled kindly;

“It’s not really our first date though, is it? We’ve had drinks, I’ve spent the night… And please, let me give you this…”

“But it’s too expensive!”

“Not to me it isn’t… I’m lucky enough to me more than comfortable financially, let me share it with you” He closed his hands gently around yours as they held the necklace, pressing a kiss to your knuckles; “It suits you… and I can’t exactly keep it, the chain would get caught on my chest hair”

You laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips;

“Thank you”

Henry had driven you through the early evening London streets with ease, confident and calm even when cabs would cut in front of him or Uber Eats bicycles would whizz past your door at traffic lights. As much as you’d asked him where you were going, he just smiled and replied ‘you’ll see’ before returning his attention back to the road.

Finally you recognised some familiar sights as you passed the entrance to Borough Market, before he swung a left and your eyes went wide;

“We’re going to The Shard?”

He grinned as he steered the car into the space outside the entrance, the valet opening your door was Henry strode around the car and took your hand whilst handing his keys to the valet. The ride up through the building in the silent elevator gave you butterflies, before he took your hand as the doors chimed. Henry offered you his arm and you tucked your own through it, your stomach flipping nervously as he walked with confidence up to the maitre’d;

“Good Evening Dr Cavill”

You had to try and keep your face neutral that the staff knew who he was, and Henry greeted him in return as if he was an old friend;

“How are you Michael? Family good?”

“Yes, thank you Sir. My daughter will be starting Oxford university in September, thank you for your letter of endorsement”

“Wonderful, great to hear. Are we ok to have some drinks and take in the view before we sit down for dinner?”

“Of course, Sir. I can prepare your table for whenever you need it. You’re booked into the Westminster Suite tonight?”

“Yes, that’s the one”

The man smiled as he led you and Henry to a small bar table near the window, and as soon as you’d rested your small clutch bag on it a waiter appeared;

“Can I get you some drinks tonight?”

Henry glanced at you;

“Champers?” You nodded as he continued; “We’ll have a bottle of the Krug 1996”

The waiter nodded once and walked away, and it was only when Henry lightly touched your arm and made you jump did you realise you’d zoned out a little;

“Princess?”

“Sorry, just trying to process this is all real” you laughed quietly

“Very real” he took your hand and was about to say something when the waiter returned, setting the small tray with two champagne flutes and a small bowl of strawberries onto the table, before quietly opening the expensive bottle in front of you. Pouring two glasses he set the bottle onto the table and left without another word, letting you return your attention to Henry;

“What’s on your mind? You were quiet in the car the whole way over. Is this too much?”

You smiled;

“No, it’s wonderful. Obviously it’s not a standard night out for me, but you know…”

“What else is bothering you?”

You took a deep breath and smiled, pointing to your glass of champagne;

“Ok firstly, this; I’m not taking a sip until I tell you that I one hundred percent want to sleep with you”

“Ok, that’s good to hear” he grinned

“You are so kind and caring, specifically waiting until I was sober before we would sleep together, and now obviously you have thought tonight through, you’ve got a suite here - that was a bit of a surprise I’ll add, but a pleasant one - so I want to get this completely agreed to before you waste all this money and then not asking for consent…”

He nodded and sipped his glass, smiling and a kind look on his face as you continued;

“Also, my safe word is Nerd”

“Nerd?”

“Yes. In case of later…”

“Gotcha” he paused for a moment before nodding to your glass; “Do you want a drink now?”

“God yes” You tipped the glass and sipped at the bubbles, feeling them burst over your tongue, and as you were setting the glass down and reaching for a strawberry Henry rested a hand on your hip;

“Is there anything else?”

“You said you were organising digs in the Southern Hemisphere for the winter… where would that leave us, you and me? Would this between us just be a summer fling? I just kind of want to know where I stand before you break my heart”

“So firstly, I do not see this as just a summer fling. I feel like I’ve known you for years, and remember we were talking on Instagram for months before I finally worked up enough courage to say more than just asking if your day was ok… But the winter digs, it’s what I do. Obviously I’m attached to the museum, but I’m also linked to several others all around the world. I can be away for a month or six months at a time, it’s all dependant on the weather and permits, local politics, but I’d fly back whenever I could, and fly you out when you could take time off work”

“You would do that? You would wait for me?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you gently to his chest as he ran a finger gently down your cheek;

“Of course I’d wait for you. I have always waited… I have found people don’t wait for me”

“What?! But… but you’re a catch! You’re kind and caring… you know how to treat a partner in every way!”

He shrugged, looking a little pensive;

“I don’t know what to say… but the last couple of girlfriends presumed I would cheat so ended things ‘before I broke their heart’... which I would never do…”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before a quiet cough sounded behind you, the pair of you turning to see the waiter;

“Would you like your table now or would you like to continue with drinks here?”

Henry smiled at you;

“I could eat, you?”

“Yes, please”

The waiter nodded and loading your drinks onto a tray before you followed him, Henry leaning to whisper in your ear;

“I look forward to eating you later too”

Dinner was fabulous, each dish seemingly better than the last, flavours dancing on your tongue and you had to struggle not to make obscene moaning sounds, but when the occasional one did escape Henry’s smile would spread further across his face until you laughed as well. By the time the dessert menu was brought over you declined;

“Are you sure?” Henry pushed; “Really, you can have anything you like, this whole night is on me”

You laughed quietly;

“I’m not looking at the prices…” you leant back and rested a hand on your stomach; “But I am *just* the right amount of full at the moment to be happy to do any other activities tonight… if I eat dessert I wouldn’t”

Henry nodded and gave a nod to the waiter, quietly speaking to him before turning his attention back to you;

“Princess, shall we retire back to our suite? A nightcap whilst we take in the view; there’s a telescope in the room”

Nodding you sipped on the last of your drink as Henry signed the bill, slipping a stack of notes into the clip before closing the small black file and handing it back. He stood and quickly circled the table, helping to pull your chair out before offering you his arm.

The ride in the lift to the luxury suites was quiet, the atmosphere almost sparking with the energy the pair of you were giving off from the sexual tension. Henry walked you to the door and you were ready to rip his clothing from his body, but as he pushed the door open he smiled and pressed a finger to his lips before speaking, and not to you;

“Michael, thank you, but we won’t be requiring the butler service tonight”

The man you recognised from the restaurant emerged from what you could see what the small kitchenette area, wiping his hands on a pristine tea towel;

“Understood Dr Cavill. I hope you have an enjoyable stay. Your request from the restaurant has been stored safely in the refrigerator”

“Thank you, Michael,”

As the man passed you saw Henry slip him a £50 note as he quickly shook his hand, before taking the Do Not Disturb sign and slipping it over the gold hook on the outside of the door and quietly closing it.

You watched as he shrugged his jacket off and slowly stalked across the room, wrapping his arm around your back, his other hand gently tilting your chin towards his lips as he kissed you, the press of his hot hard body against your own. The kiss was soft, yet he managed to completely dominate you, his tongue pushing against your own and you could taste the whiskey he’d finished his meal with just a few moments before. Your fingers clawed at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and yet as you managed to get one unfastened he pulled away, slipping his hand into yours;

“Come on, let me show you the view”

The noise that escaped your lips was a cross between a laugh and a toddlers disgruntled moan;

“Henry…” you whined; “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but please, I’m so fucking horny right now, I need you to fuck me into the mattress”

He turned and walked backwards, tugging you to the panoramic windows and the telescope that sat on the full-length tripod, a quiet laugh filling the void between the two of you;

“Princess, I promise you will get that… we have all night, all weekend! I just have one thing I want to show you…”

He peered through the telescope before stepping back and nodding to you, gently guiding you until he was standing behind you, his hands on your hips. You looked through the eyepiece and let out a gasp; on the roof of a building in Canary Wharf was a light display… and yet it wasn’t just lasers, there was light patterns of dinosaurs; Diplodocus reaching for high leaves, T-rex stalking in the bushes, a group of Raptors running across the building.

“Oh Henry… how did you?”

“I have some friends in the city… and some more friends that run outdoor events… just called in a couple of favours”

You watched through the scope and smiled as you felt Henry wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his hard body flush with your own and started to caress your neck with soft kisses. One hand slipped to your thigh and gently started to tug your dress up until it was high enough for him to slip his hand into the thigh high slit and curl around to seek out your pussy. He was still firmly holding you in place, letting you watch the light show in the relative darkness of the luxury suite, but as his fingers dipped beneath the thin elastic of your lacy thong he let out an appreciative groan as he found you already dripping wet;

“You really are horny, aren’t you?”

He found your clit and started to tease it with tight circles, at the same time grinding into the crease of your ass with the hardness still confined to his smart trousers. Under his expert ministrations you soon found yourself swaying your hips, working between pushing harder against his hand then pushing back to feel that delicious friction from behind. Your head fell back against his shoulder and he let out a feral growl against your neck, his teeth grazing against your smooth flesh before gently biting, causing a shudder to run the length of your spine;

“Ok, Dinosaurs are great, but I need a different bone…”

Your words were breathless and were greeted with a low chuckle. Henry withdrew his fingers and you watched as he brought them to his mouth, tasting your juices from the glistening digits, before he moved them to the zip of your dress and slowly started to unzip you. The dress fell to the floor and he let out an appreciative moan;

“No bra?”

“You complaining?”

“Absolutely not”

Your fingers started quick work of his shirt buttons, unfastening them all before pushing the fabric over his massive shoulders. As he cast the garment aside you unbuttoned his trousers, lowering the zip and palming the massive bulge his boxers could barely contain, Henry’s hips pushing against your palm involuntarily as you felt the heat of his skin though the fabric. Your tongue painted patterns against his chest and his voice stuttered;

“I want you to sit on my face, ride my tongue Princess, let me make you cum”

He dropped to his knees and pulled your lace thong down your legs, before unfastening the tiny straps of your heels, running the tips of his fingers up the length of your body as he stood and rid himself of his own clothing, pulling you to the bed.

He lay on the soft covers, pulling you up his body until your knees were either side of his head, his strong hands gripping onto your thighs as his tongue darted out and parted your folds. His eyes glinted with mischief and you could feel yourself shaking with anticipation as he spoke;

“Turn around”

Taking a couple of moments to shift 180º, you rested your hands on his broad chest as he pulled you down to his mouth. At the first touch of his tongue swiping through your folds again you groaned and curled your fingers through the coarse hair on his chest, shuddering at his expert touch. With each pass of the strong muscle you could feel your body rapidly heading towards orgasm already, but when you felt a wide hand flat on your back, pushing you forwards it was heaven as his lips latched onto your clit and he slid two fingers of his other hand into your soaked channel.

Resting your chest against his abdomen you were face to face with his dick, hard and thick as it rested against his stomach, reaching up to his navel where it wept precum. Wrapping your hand around it you smoothed your thumb over the clear liquid, wishing you could reach it with your mouth, but instead spitting on your other hand to work the hot hard flesh. The groan that was muffled from between your thighs told you he was enjoying it, and in return he slid a finger into you, stretching you, and you knew you were done for.

Your attention waived from him as he worked you closer and closer towards your orgasm, before he managed to curl his fingers just right and you were cumming over his face, his strong arm holding you to his mouth as you shook with pleasure.

Finally he carefully withdrew his fingers from you, lifting you so he could lay you head to foot on the bed beside him before resting one massive hand on your soft stomach as your breath came out in rapid pants, your heart racing. You felt the bed shift and the welcome touch of his warm hands parting your legs so he could crawl up your body, pressing open mouthed kisses to every spot he crossed. Eventually he reached your own lips, kissing you deeply, his tongue wide and strong and you could taste yourself as your own tongue danced with his. You could feel his hardness nestled against your folds, slipping against you as your bodies writhed together before he finally pushed himself up on his powerful arms;

“Are you ready?”

“Yes… please Henry…”

Reaching down he took hold of himself and slid the tip up and down through your folds until you felt that delicious notch of his swollen crown resting at your entrance, he looked back to you;

“I’ll go slow… just relax…”

He started to push forwards, your velvet walls slowly parting as he filled you inch by delicious inch, your eyes going wider with each push. He tilted his hips and immediately found your g-spot, your eyes rolling back in their sockets and you let out a groan that would have rattled the glass in the windows had the building not been fitted with hurricane proof panes. You felt Henry’s soft lips press a kiss to your neck, his mouth moving gently over your skin as he spoke;

“You feel like heaven Princess, taking me so well”

“H-Henry… please…”

“What Princess? Is it too much?”

“NO! No, oh my god, please… please move… fuck me… fuck me like you mean it…”

“Princess…” he warned

“I can take it… I want it…”

You looked into his eyes and saw a glint of concern, before a wide smile spread across his face;

“You can, you’re a good girl…”

Pulling his hips back he pushed back in, parting your walls further and the feeling of being so full was almost indescribable. Sure, you’d had partners with big dicks in the past. Some with small dicks. But no-one that had ever been both long and as wide as Henry was. He wasn’t obscenely long, so there wasn’t the uncomfortable stabbing in the cervix, but every inch of his was thick and meaty, and you could feel him completely. Each thrust was becoming harder and faster, and soon he was wrapping one arm around your thigh to pull your legs open wider, tilting his hips so he could change the angle as he fucking railed you into the mattress, your fingers clawing at his back as you begged him for more and more.

The room faded around you, it was just you and Henry, the pleasure each other’s bodies were sharing with the other, feral grunts and moans as you felt pleasure like never before. You fitted together like two pristine pieces of a jigsaw, working together in unity. The rough brush of his chest hair against your hypersensitive nipples was yet another added stimulation, and with each rapid push and thrust your bodies rubbed together to bring you closer to your peak. You were trembling around him, your legs shaking where you were so close to orgasm.

He let go of your leg, now resting both hands either side of your body as he moved quicker, each thrust more powerful than the last, and with each push you had slid a little more along the bed, your head now hanging over the end and resting on the chaise lounge that sat there, the blood rushing to your brain giving you a head rush. You wrapped your legs around Henry’s waist, hooking one foot over another as you pressed them against his ripe ass. Your bodies were slick with sweat, and when you felt that tell-tale sign that your orgasm was starting a guttural moan emerged slowly through your throat.

Your body shook with intense pleasure, you could feel for the very first time your internal muscles squeezing and massaging Henry’s massive girth within you, realising that you had never felt so complete.

As you rode out your orgasm Henry evened his thrusts out, and as your own pleasure was starting to ebb away it set off his own, his thick seed filling you as you felt him twitch and buck within you. You watched as he threw his head back and moaned your name, the smooth expanse of his neck aching for you to touch, and with the last ounce of strength you had you did just that and pressed an open mouthed kiss to his Adams Apple.

With one final grunt you felt him twitch for the last time before his body relaxed, and those steel blue eyes met yours in the twilight of the room, your bodies only illuminated by the bright lights of the London night skyline. He shifted, moving one hand behind your head to support and cup it in his massive palm, the other resting on his elbow so your bodies were pressed together yet he wasn’t resting his entire weight atop of you. There were no words, the smiles on your faces told the other all the words your mouths couldn’t articulate.

The passing of time didn’t register in your mind, and it was only when Henry’s entire body did an involuntary shudder did you both come back to reality. Steadying himself on his arms he slowly pulled out of you, letting out a string of gentle ‘hoo-ha’s as the pull of your body against his over sensitive flesh was almost overwhelming for him. Kneeling on the bed he ran his hands over your thighs, warm against the now goose bumped skin and he pulled your legs apart slightly;

“Wanna watch my cum drip out of you Princess”

His hands rested on your inner thighs at the apex, his thumbs pulling apart your lips and you watched as he watched his thick seed slowly pool at your entrance. With one thumb he swiped it through the cum before spreading it over your swollen folds. He let out a grunt and moved, sliding an arm behind your back and helped you sit up, pressing his thumb to your lips which you eagerly took into your mouth, sucking on the thick pad as you tasted your combined essence on his salty skin.

“Let’s rest for a while before the next round” he muttered before kissing your cheek.

You nodded, muttering about needing to pee, and on wobbly legs you staggered to the bathroom like a new-born fawn.

Chapter 7 >>>

Chapter 6 notes:

In case you wanted to be nosey and see just how much Henry spent on their date:

Champagne:

https://thechampagnecompany.com/krug-1996-vintage-champagne-75cl-gift-box Restaurant at the Shard: https://www.the-shard.com/restaurants/aquashard/ Room at the Shard: https://www.shangri-la.com/london/shangrila/rooms-suites/suites/westminster-suite/

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #au henry cavill

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holy-heck-i-love-my-fo · 3 years

Text

I just needed to write a parkdam fic . TW for people being seriously harmed, having harm come their way, needles, stitching of body things that shouldn’t be stitched, gore, blood, guns, corpses, cursing, snot, and things that are painful. If anything there is something that bothers you, then don’t worry! :)! <3! Don’t feel obligated to read, and I have some fun stuff/an introduction to my Saw S/I that needs no trigger warnings coming out soon!!!

@gentle-horrors.

-----

When I was tossed into the room, I wasn’t sure what it was. I couldn’t see through the pig mask that they forced onto my head. I couldn’t speak due to the stitches through the skin around my lips that kept my mouth shut. The stitches felt suffocating, even though my nose was fine and unplugged. Plus, the pain that came with them was almost too much to bear. But there wasn’t any way that I could even try to lessen it. I’d tried, but my hands were firmly cuffed behind my back. The chains between the cuffs were so tight that I could barely move my hands.

I stretched out my fingers, happy that I could move those. It made me feel a little more in control. Which was good, seeing as my sense of sight, my ability to speak, and my ability to move my arms freely made me feel very out of control.

The only thing I had to feel relieved about was that the man who took me didn’t sew my eyes shut. He considered it, but eventually decided on just the mask when I begged and pleaded, tears streaming down my cheeks. Then he sprung it on me. He told me that I wouldn’t be able to beg for my life anymore as he took the needle and sewed my mouth shut. It was all it took not to scream in pain once the needle entered my skin, but I managed to avoid it, if only because I feared that it would pull at the stitches and make the sewing hurt more. Or that the man would hurt me for screaming. He was already testing me in a way. He showed no sympathy, but I could tell that he thought that he was morally superior to me. It was something in the way that he looked at me. Like he thought whatever I got was justified.

It disgusted me.

As I got my lips sewn shut, I was far more disgusted by the man in front of me than hurt by the pain of the stitches.

But when he cuffed my hands together, I started to hyperventilate. My body tried to instinctively breathe through my mouth, and I teared up at the pain of my lips trying to pull apart. As I was forced to breathe through my nose, the cold stung the inside as I quickly breathed in and out. I worried that I’d pass out. Then a mask was tossed onto me. A pig mask like that of the person who’d kidnapped me. I recognized it before he put it on me. But mine didn’t have eye holes or anything.

It turned out that I didn’t need to worry about passing out from my hyperventilation when a needle was shoved into me and something entered me that made me quickly pass out.

---

I woke up, my eyes fluttering. I went to smile, happy that it was just a dream. But then the stitches burned as I tried to, and I instinctively teared up. It was no dream. I was living a nightmare. My mouth was dry despite the fact that I hadn’t opened it. I wondered how long I’d been out. Long enough for the blood around my mouth to stop flowing, and dry. It could’ve been anywhere from a few hours to a few days. My stomach rumbled from hunger, which told me it had to be pretty long, since I’d eaten just a little bit before the man took me.

Whoever had their hands on me shoved me through a door, and I heard two voices start to shout at me.

“Hands up! I have a gun.” One shouted.

I had a feeling he was lying about the gun. Or he was very weak. Maybe he just really didn’t want to shoot. It was a guess because his voice shook when he said it.

“Sick fuck,” the other muttered, his voice still very audible. He knew I heard him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Then again, what did I know? I wasn’t a professional or anything. For all I knew, the first guy had a gun pointed straight at my head, and the second guy was trying to whisper.

I quickly bent over at my waist, swinging my arms as far up into the air as I could, so that they could see that I was as much a victim as they were.

“So you’re stuck, too,” the first voice said, sounding almost melancholic.

Did he want me to be a puppet master in this sick game? Or maybe he thought I could’ve released him.

“Talk,” the second voice said, blunt as could be.

I stayed silent, unable to speak.

“Tell us what you know,” the first voice said.

I wished I could’ve told them anything.

“Goddammit!” The first voice shouted, sounding like he slammed his fist down on something.

Something clicked in my head. I shouted as loud as I could with my mouth closed, letting them hear it muffled by my lips. It was something a lot of people had tried at least once. Making noises with their mouth closed. So I hoped it was recognizable.

It seemed to click to at least Guy 1, as he asked “What happened to your mouth?”.

“Well, Larry, it doesn’t seem much like whoever this is can exactly tell us.”

A slight laugh fell from my mouth, and my stitches hurt from smiling.

“Well how do you propose we fix it?” Guy 1- Larry- asked.

Guy 2 didn’t reply for a few minutes. I just stood there. I didn’t want to move, lest I step onto some broken glass or something. I had no idea what was in the room.

“Well maybe we should see what’s wrong first,” Guy 2 said. I felt like I was drawn more to him than Larry.

“Okay. Then let whoever this is come over to you. Inspect him.”

“Well you’re the doctor,” Guy 2 muttered.

“If this is a trap and someone needs first aid, I’ll need to be healthy to do it,” Larry said.

“Well you’re chained to a pipe, so I’m not sure how much help you’d be to someone across the room from you.”

“If this were a trap,” Larry said, “then maybe you wouldn’t want to tell the person who could be trapping us that we’re at a disadvantage.”

Guy 2 didn’t reply, presumably huffing over getting a talking to.

"Go over to Adam,” Larry said.

It put a name to Guy 2′s voice. Adam.

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if they could even see it with the mask covering part of my neck.

Adam was quiet.

I paused for a second. If I could talk, I’d ask Larry and Adam how they expected me to go over to Adam if I had no clue as to where he was, and he wasn’t speaking.

“Well, say something,” Larry said, after an awkward pause.

I liked Larry. He thought like me. Plus, he was a doctor. I’d had some medical training myself, so I knew how tough it could be.

“Fine. I’m over here.” I followed Adam’s voice, walking forward first to make sure I wouldn’t slam into any walls.

Adam started shouting. “Wait! Make sure not to step on the-”

It was too late. I felt something squelch under my foot, and I instantly felt woozy.

“corpse.” He finished his sentence.

I teared up. I’d stepped on a corpse. There was a corpse in the room, and I’d stepped on it.

I tried to calm my head as it spun. I walked towards where I last heard Adam’s voice, walking much faster than before. I needed someone. It didn’t matter that I didn’t even know the guy. I’d stepped on a corpse.

I walked closer to where I’d last heard Adam’s voice, but I stumbled. And slipped on the blood on the bottom of my foot. Without my hands to catch me, I fell face first towards the hard concrete. I felt under my feet that it was concrete. I had a feeling that falling like that would put me in a state matching the guy who I stepped on. I hated that in my final moments, I was completely helpless.

Then I fell onto something softer than the ground. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but then I felt breathing on the back of my neck.

I was pretty sure I fell onto Adam.

I felt my face flush, feeling like I’d made a bad impression on him already. And now I had my head buried in what was probably his shoulder.

I wanted to say sorry, but I couldn’t. My eyes widened, and I knew that I had bigger concerns than a bad first impression, but I couldn’t help but feel bad.

He didn’t say anything, choosing to instead take the pig mask off of me. My eyes stung under the fluorescent lights, even though they were pretty dim.

I got a good look at Adam’s face, and the stitches around my mouth burned as I weakly smiled at how he looked more concerned than annoyed. That was a good sign that he wasn’t mad at me.

“Shit...” he said, running his hand over the stitches.

“What is it?” Larry asked from across the room.

“His mouth is sewn shut,” Adam said, voice full of something that after a few moments, I recognized as horror.

I glanced over at Larry. There was a gun in the middle of the floor, but he didn’t have it. I guessed he was betting on me not having great eyesight, or maybe he saw that there were no eyeholes in my mask. Either way, if I were sent as a minion by the man, I probably would’ve seen that he didn’t have it.

Also in the middle of the floor was the corpse. His face was down, so I didn’t even know if I recognized him or not. And footprints from my bare feet in the blood. I teared up, then started to sob. But every time that I went to instinctively gasp, I couldn’t. I felt like I was choking.

Adam wrapped an arm around me, starting to pat my back. Tears streamed down my face, and I felt my nose begin to drip a little. It made my breathing harder, because I had to deal with my snot and my tears when I tried to breathe in. I also worried that I was getting Adam’s shirt messy, but there seemed to already be some dirt and grime on it, so I hoped that he wouldn’t mind.

“What can we do?” Larry asked.

I noticed a saw next to Adam and I. I pointed to it with my cuffed hands, turned around to point to Adam, and then mimed sawing to him. I turned back around to face him, and he looked at me with a look that seemed to imply that I was crazy.

“He wants me to saw the stitches,” Adam said.

I nodded my head up and down.

“That sounds like something someone would end up in the hospital trying to do,” Larry said.

“I feel like he should do it. He’s the doctor,” Adam said, pointing to Larry.

I nodded my head left and right. I couldn’t walk across the floor again, even with my vision. I just couldn’t.

He sighed, seeming to reside himself to his fate.

He picked up the saw, and cut into the stitches as tenderly as possible. The saw was larger than my mouth, and my lips were tight behind the stitches, so I ended up with blood running down my face. But I could open my mouth. I could breathe again. It felt amazing.

“Thank you,” I said, voice croaky and dry, with tears still dropping.

“You’re welcome,” he said in reply, just looking at my face.

“You did really well,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said.

And I breathed a lot more easily lying there with him. The future was uncertain, but at least I knew that I had someone to trust.

#parkdam #okay to rb #very okay to rb!!!!!#listen I don't know how to tag this but ask to tag #I put my tws in the notes just in case but idk how to say them in easy terms #my stuff #my writing #but yeah dw if you don't read this I have a bunch of non-gruesome things coming outsoon!!!!! :)! <3!#omen you get my fun horror tag #agkljasjlgh #also lmk if you wanna be on my possibly triggering works tag list because sometimesI gotta write some crazy stuff and I'm not just forcing #everyone on my tag list onto this tag list #aglkjshg #also!!!!! I might write some more for this #I hope everyone who reads it enjoys!!!!! :)! <3!#if you don't 100% get what's happening timeline wise #there's the beginning then a flashback then a time skip back to the beginning

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2ofswords · 4 years

Note

artemy and daniil 33

Thank you anon, what a lovely suggestion! It was a lot of fun to write!

The exact prompt is at the end, if people were wondering. I kind of like to not spoil what the scene is made around, but it’s still nice to have the exact prompt noted.

_________________________________________________ People say, that a first date has to be perfect. And obviously people who say this were full of shit and don’t know how to start a proper relationship, hiding their own insecurities behind a pretty politeness and simple rules. Artemy is well aware of the fact, that neither the body nor the soul follow such simple made up rules, flowing in all directions, even overflowing over what is considered the natural course when it comes to love. That is the magic of connection after all, extending the self beyond ones own reach, uniting with other people and reaching through one’s own shore without disrupting the perfect harmony, that is the self and the body. The right ritual might be needed but the strict ruling of a date would only hinder this very interconnection.

Yet he still finds himself stressing over every single detail. The food? It’s good he checked, he actually tasted it twice and got both Sticky and Murkys opinion. Now he is keeping it warm in the oven and it shouldn’t overcook or burn, he dimmed the heat, so it should absolutely be okay! His appearance. Well… it’s how it always is but the sweater is nice and he washed it carefully. He even shaved! Well let Rubin shave him, who very much complained because he didn’t want to be “compliant with this suffering”. Artemy couldn’t figure out if he meant Rubin or his own but he figured the man was just cranky about having to spend his time with Daniil’s verbally expressed affection as well as his own worries that the whole affair still would turn into a fucking disaster. Which – judging both of their luck – it would. And is the room tidy enough? Should he have bought new candles?

… So much for his suffering.

Still, Artemy really doesn’t want to mess this up. And even if he doesn’t care if the desserts are adorned with some few walnuts or the entire children’s economy… Daniil will surely appreciate it. He is that type of person, right? The proper one. Who values taking the right and appopriate steps and is probably used to this whole gentlemanery schtick. Might as well play along. Might as well show that he really wants this to happen, that he actually cares about this arrogant fool.

A knock at the door tells the Haruspex that the time has run out either way. So there’s no other choice but to open it now. What was he thinking in the first place? He could have just waited a few weeks for the Bachelor to ask him out over one of his fancy letters. Flowerly worded but also cleverly, barely making it sound like a date but still getting the point across.

I joyfully await your appearance

Artemy just blatantly told him, that he wanted this to be a date. He shouldn’t have done this, now he can’t just shrug it off! Maybe – if push comes to shove – he could just argue that he meant it jokingly. Oh, no, myy uymen, that would sound absolutely horrible! Well, then he’ll have to live with his mistakes. It’s okay, he tries to tell himself. He’s been through worse than a very awkward and tense evening with a fellow colleague. He’ll improvise. It’s going to be –

There is a sudden warmth surrounding him and it takes a second for the Haruspex to realize, that Daniil’s lips that are suddenly covering his. His arms that did snake around his back, his whole body radiating heat, telling tales about his flowing blood, his beating hart, about being alive and god, he is kissing him! This is way too early, they haven’t even started, how –

The kiss is over almost as sudden as it began. Just a small gesture freezing Artemy in place while the other man steps bad again. He cleaned up nicely, even if his officially gaudy attire has changed for a simple red shirt and plain black pants. And… he is not smiling, that would be putting it way to nicely. He is perfectly smug about this situation.

“Don’t you want to invite me in, emshen?”

“You…” Think! Improvise! Things have gotten out of hand. He’s used to it. So Daniil is already at the kissing part. This is good. Yes. Good. “You’re… early.”

“I guess so.”

The grin fades and his wrinkles deepen. They awkwardly stand in front of each other and Artemy knows that he should shift, and give his esteemed guest his kindest permission to enter the house. But his blood still froze as if the snake had stuck him with venom and not affection.

“Was I too forward with my advances? I am sorry, I assumed with the arrangements...”

“Well you certainly are fast on the draw!”

Now the last remnants of the Bachelor’s smile fall of completely. Shudkher, that must be record time to ruin an evening! He needs to tie the strings back together, before Daniil leaves without even entering his house!

“I was just startled. I thought… that you would like to do things properly, I guess… You know. The whole ordeal of courting.”

Daniil stares at him. Purses his lips. The ones that literally touched his face and Artemy has the sudden urge to touch his own with his fingers. Salvaging the warmth as well as the irretrievable moment. He should have made it longer. He should really kiss the Bachelor again.

He really wants to too.

“My dear Artemy, I am fairly certain that you have seen enough of me. For a lifetime, I would have guessed. Tempus edax rerum, as they say. I think we can spare us the time for pointless courtesy.”

“Heh.”

Well… there definitely was some truth in that.

“But if you want us to start this properly, I can turn around the corner and reappear again.”

It only takes one step to reach out for the Bachelor. To catch his lips with his own and tilt his head in just the right way and. Oh, this is perfection, the divot in his lip interlocking with Artemy’s own. Two body’s singing in harmony. No middleman or stupid dessert needed.

It’s not a long kiss but Daniil is still breathing heavily, when they part. He’s close, Artemy imagines that he can feel his pulse running through his body. Though this one is probably his own.

But is there really a difference?

“I have beef in the oven.”

“That sounds absolutely delightful!”

“I sure hope it does!”

This time opening the door comes as easy as breathing. When Daniil steps a smile has reappeared on his lips, a proper one, all joy and excitement. Artemy can’t help but smile back. Can’t help but be excited to let the evening flow on in it’s natural cause and believing that they will have sewn their fate a bit closer to each other by the end of it.

_________________________________________________

Prompt: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it. Pairing: Artemy/Daniil

#Burakovsky #Burakhovsky #I actually got to use the quote on my tumblr page #fun!#Anonymous #ask #Kissing meme

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mammonspeanut · 4 years

Text

Mammon x MC - A little surprise- last part

So my loves here is the last part of the story I wrote. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it and reading it more than once. I’d love to hear your thoughts on it and I want to thank everyone who read the entire story and shared and liked it. <3 love you so much

part 3

After Mammon successfully convinced everyone to support and join his plan of surprising MC the day has come. Excitement may be an understatement but will MC like what he had planned for her and how will she react?

“Asmodeus is saving us some time, come on and let’s prepare the room.” , Beel mumbled as food fell out of his mouth.

After setting everything up Lucifer slipped into his outfit, a pair of jeans which were stretchy enough that he could lift his legs and squat without a problem and a black colored sleeveless shirt and a white pair of socks and sneakers. Beel was slipping into his beige pants and white sleeveless shirt “I still don’t understand why we don’t have the same outfit.”,Beel asked confused as Belfie handed him his shoes and suspenders explained once again “ It is supposed to look natural and kinda like what the guys were wearing in that period of time. Plus you’ll be changing outfits later anyways.” Levi was already dressed in his gray pants and black turtleneck “Why can’t Lucifer wear the turtleneck?” he nagged as he pulled at his collar uncomfortably “Simple because he doesn’t need to look even more like a jerk. Plus it is better than that orange silk shirt Asmodeus wanted us to wear”, Satan taunted as he stood there topless closing his belt after pulling up his black pair of jeans while Levi shuddered at the memory of the orange silk shirt. It didn’t take long for Lucifer to pick up Satan’s Bordeaux colored sleeveless shirt only to chuck it into his face “Shut up and put your clothes on.” The door creaked open slowly as Asmodeus entered the room “She’s in the tub come on boys I need to do your makeup.” he whispered. As Mammon watched everyone get dressed he still stood there in his usual clothes frozen with fear. What if it wasn’t perfect he had spent 4 months planning and practicing everything, perfectioning every move and every song and now? Now he was so full of fear that he couldn’t move. “What’s up with him?”, Belphegor asked Satan as he adjusted his shirt and shrugged at the same time “Mammon. Get dressed dude.” Levi called from across the room everyone's eyes were on Mammon at that moment “Mammon.”, Lucifer called catching his attention “What if this turns out bad. I mean it won’t be after all I am the great Mammon and I planned everything but what if I mess up?”, Mammon quietly asked letting his gaze wander through the room. Lucifer approached Mammon and quietly comforted him for the first time in a while “It won’t happen and if you do we are also here. Now, come on get dressed, Mc will love it no matter what.” Mammon nodded slightly and grabbed his black pair of pants, a yellow shirt, and a black cardigan. Asmodeus didn’t have much time and just powdered Mammon’s face and slipped back out of the room. Beel and Levi discussed the routine again as Belphie adjusted the lighting. In the moment where everyone pat Mammon on the back his phone Buzzed -You guys ready???? We are on our way!!- “They are on their way, let's get into our positions, Belphie get ready!”, Mammon informed everyone followed by a uniform nod from everyone in the room. “Asmodeus, why are we here?”, MC's voice questioned outside of the door while Mammon's heart began to race even more as he moved from side to side shaking his hands and trying to get comfortable while whispering to himself until Lucifer put his hand on Mammon’s shoulder. “Dear, do you think I would do something weird with you~ Come on in.” Asmodeus chirped as the door opened “Asmos, it’s dar-” “Sit right here~”, Asmodeus cut her after a moment of silence you could hear a smack and then Belphegor quietly say “Okay. Okay, I’m awake.”

The lights slowly turned on and the music began to play. The evening when better than planned all moves sat perfectly between the five boys and every song went without an accident. MC enjoyed herself more than everything else and cheered a lot while singing along with them and moving in her seat. She was amused to see Lucifer actually enjoying himself and just being not as stiff as he usually is and Satan nailing every step he made just to be better than Lucifer. MC was surprised by the fact that Beel didn’t stop once to eat something and by the fact how light-footed he was dancing as she looked over to Levi he had the most serious face of all concentrating on every move. Being Surprised by the quick outfit change for every song was an understatement since the boys were changed in less than 5 minutes and you knew for a fact that Lucifer took way longer.

As she looked at Mammon a warm feeling spread throughout her body she had felt this feeling quite often with Mammon but this time it was different it was as if her heart was squeezed tightly and it dropped. The way his eyes glistened in the light and the way his hair moved when he made his turns or the moment when he realized that she was having fun and he had the biggest smile on his face. The wink he gave her to make her cheer and whoo even louder, during the last set the boys came out in suits the first one to emerge was Beel who looked kind of lost in his mustard-colored suit but it sat very well on him. “Hey, Asmo.” MC whispered as Levi followed in a very dark purple suit, anyone could see that he wasn’t used to wearing suits as he adjusted his blazer. “Yes~” flirted Asmodeus into MCs ear enough to make her shudder while Satan entered in a very dark emerald suit leaving her almost speechless. “Mc dear?~” Asmo flirted into MC's ear as she found her words again while watching Lucifer come into the room in a burgundy suit while putting on his hat “Did you make all these outfits?” Mc asked absentmindedly wondering what Mammons suit would look like. As soon as the thought was formed in her mind Mammon entered the room in a three-piece white suit. Barely able to register Asmodeus confirming that indeed he had hand-sewn each outfit by himself and fitted each of the boys. Mc wasn’t sure if she was staring at Mammon with an open mouth but the few seconds it took for Mammon to enter and to look up, catch her gaze and smile at her felt as if things were in slow motion. There wasn’t a word in the world to explain what she felt at that moment when the light bounced off of his blue/yellow eyes. The last song was over in a breeze, she barely was able to focus on anything else but Mammon and how he looked in his suit and how well he moved. All she knew was that she wanted him all to herself.

After the little performance, Mammon was completely out of breath as MC approached them handing Beel immediately some food since he hadn’t eaten for the entire time. The fact that she went first to him kind of hurt but after all, it was a smart move, no one wanted him to eat anyone in the room just because he was hungry. Next, he watched her approach Levi hugging him and congratulating him on doing so well, it wasn’t a surprise as she hugged Satan and complimented him on how well the green suit looked on him. Mammon huffed trying to catch air and also kind of to bring the attention to him after all he had done all of this. He continued to watch as MC began to talk to Lucifer praising him and striking up a small conversation on actually participating in the entire thing. “I guess.”,Mammon murmured jealousy forming a knot in his stomach. He could hear her asking “Whose idea was this and most importantly who planned all of this.” after not hearing a thing for a bit “Hey Mammon? Wanna come out into the fresh air with me?” she asked, ripping him out of his thoughts. “Uh, yeah?”, he answered confused as she had grabbed his hand pulling him behind her.

“Hey! Hey Buttercup! Slow down.” he called as she hurried outside with him. He shut the door right behind him as she stood as close as possible to him again, he looked down at her watching her eyes move from left to right as she looked at his face. A gust of wind carried her scent with it as he inhaled it he felt his heart beating up in his throat. “Did you really do all of this for me?” she asked without breaking eye contact. Ready to let out a deflecting answer he opened his mouth “No, Mammon, be honest.”, she cut him off as he shut his mouth, feeling his tongue heavy in his mouth the words felt like syrup in his throat “Yes.”, he managed to answer as he pushed her curly hair behind her ear leaving it there for a second longer than he should have. “Why?” she asked, leaning her head into his hand. He noticed her face felt warmer as usual and her eyes expectant as he slowly rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “Because I wanted to make you happy.”, he said while his heartfelt as if it was about to jump right out of his chest. He feared her next question, feared that he was going to expose his feelings and be completely vulnerable. He could see her racking her brain for the next question that was lingering in the air waiting for her to vocalize it as the trees nearby rustled eager for what next was to transpire. “Because…”, Mammon began without waiting for her question as he cupped her face with his other hand he saw the fear in her eyes. The same fear he had, to be exposed, to let yourself fall mercilessly and recklessly, to be vulnerable to the point where it scared you. She grabbed on to his wrists slightly opening her mouth as he inched closer, he knew that she needed to know that this was real and that she was safe with him. She made sure that in this moment, where her feelings were exposed for everyone to see, that she was grabbing onto the situation because she didn’t want to let it slip away. Mammon grabbed her face a bit tighter as he intended to because he didn’t want her to slip away either. He wanted to hold on to something more precious than money or anything he could possess in the entire world. His nose softly touched hers as he saw tears well up in her eyes, he pressed his lips onto hers. Pulling her close to him, putting all the feelings he had for her in the kiss, their lips crashed with a force into each other. He felt her squeeze his wrists tightly as he pulled her even closer. He wanted to remove any space that was between the both of them, he wanted her as close as possible. He could feel her tears running down her cheeks coating his face, though he wasn’t sure if it was only her tears or his as well. As their lips parted, Mammon looked deep into MC's eyes to make sure that she was still right in front of him and indeed she was a sigh of relief escaped as he pulled her close to him again.

He hugged her tightly and as they both looked out into the darkness they both simultaneously asked: “So, are we dating?” Mammon felt MCs head shift under his chin and he looked down at her both greeting each other with an empty facial expression and then bursting out in laughter “Yes.”, MC answered as Mammon answered, “Obviously yes, I mean who wouldn’t want to date the great Mammon everyone would be blessed to date me.” “Dumbass.”, she mumbled into his chest “..my dumbass,” she added as they spent a few more moments outside.

#obey me beel #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus avatar of lust #obey me lucifer #lucifer avatar of pride #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me #my fiction #obey me fanfic

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 4 years

Text

Whumptober No.15

“No. Yer not doin’ that.”

Porthos steps protectively between Lemay and the bed Aramis is occupying. D’Artagnan joins him, hand on his sword. Getting up from his stool beside the bed, Athos completes the line of defense,

“He’s right,” Athos says icily. “You’re not touching him unless you put that down.”

He points at the scalpel and at the bowl Lemay is holding. The doctor looks at the three musketeers, intimidated, but not willing to yield.

“Captain, you have to see reason,” he addresses Athos. “He needs to be bled! It may be his only chance!”

Athos doesn’t blink as he slowly shakes his head.

“No.”

Behind him, he hears Aramis moan softly, and he wishes the marksman was awake to argue with Lemay over the course of his treatment. But two days after getting shot, a fever is burning through him, and Aramis hasn’t been lucid for hours.

“Captain,” Lemay tries again. “He has an infection. We need to drain it out of his blood. The vile juices have to leave his body. It’s a proven method, and the only option we have left.”

“Aramis says it’s rubbish,” Porthos throws in, squaring his shoulders. “If ‘e was able to, ‘e’d explain to ya that-”

“But he’s not,” Lemay cuts him off. Athos can tell that the doctor means well and that he thinks he is fighting for his patient and not against him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s wrong.

“He’s not able to, and even if he were, he’s not a doctor. He’s a gifted man with rudimentary medical knowledge, but he isn’t a physician. I am!”

Beside Athos, d’Artagnan fidgets with indignation, and on his other side Porthos huffs.

“‘E’s treated more wounds than you ever will. ‘E’s treated soldiers with real injuries while you’ve been ‘andin’ out smellin’ salts to the ladies at court an’ cough juice to the King.” Although they all know Lemay is capable of much more, Athos thinks that Porthos has a point. And it’s why they’re standing here, protecting their brother from a practice they’ve never seen Aramis apply in the field. A practice which Aramis, in fact, condemns with conviction. And more than once, he’s explained to them why.

“He’s lost enough blood already,” Athos says cooly. “Taking more will only weaken him further.”

Lemay raises a pleading hand.

“But I am convinced it will help him. Please, Captain, do you want to be responsible for your friend’s death?”

Porthos growls and, fists balled, takes a step forward. Athos holds him back with an arm across his chest.

“We’ll take that chance,” he says, and Lemay flinches underneath his withering glare. “And unless there’s any other and sensible form of treatment you can offer, we’re asking you to leave.”

Lemay hesitates. Metal hisses when, as a warning, d’Artagnan begins to slide his sword out of its scabbard. Then Lemay exhales in resignation.

“No,” he admits. “There’s nothing else I can do. Keep his wounds clean. Change the bandages regularly. Make him drink. Pray. Summon me if you change your mind, but it may be too late by then.”

The doctor drops the scalpel into the unused bowl, throws a last, frustrated glance at Aramis’ still form, turns on his heel and leaves.

Athos feels himself deflate, and, returning to Aramis’ side, his heart races with the same feelings of doubt he can see on Porthos’ and d’Artagnan’s faces. He looks at their injured friend, his arm and leg heavily bandaged, his dark curls plastered to his face, so pale in spite of the fever. Aramis had lost so much blood by the time they’d got him here, and when Lemay had finally sewn up the hole in his arm and the deep slash in his thigh he’d looked like death.

“Did we do the right thing?” D’Artagnan voices the question they’re all thinking.

“Yeah.” Porthos sits down by Aramis’ uninjured side, looking ridiculously big on that small stool. He dunks a cloth into a bowl of water and gently wipes Aramis’ face. “Yeah, we did. ‘e told us that bleedin’ a wounded man only kill’s ‘em faster. ‘E told us many times.”

“But the infection?” D’Artagnan rakes his hand through his grown-out hair. “It needs to be drained, doesn’t it?”

Athos, one hand settled on Aramis’ good shoulder, shakes his head.

“An infected wound needs to be drained. Yes. Not the whole body. We’ve kept his wounds clean. We’ve done everything he would have done.”

As if to reassure himself, Athos checks the bandage around Aramis’ arm. There’s no oozing, no foul smell. The same, he knows, goes for his leg. He’s been checking it diligently.

“We’ve done the right thing,” he reassures his brothers, reassures himself. “Lemay is wrong. Now let’s make sure Aramis stays alive so he can tell him that himself.”

D’Artagnan nods. “I’ll go fetch more water.”

Porthos continues to wet compresses and places them where Aramis taught him to, tirelessly explaining why. The marksman gives a little whimper of distress and rolls his head in Porthos’ direction, his eyes fluttering, but not opening.

“I know,” Porthos grumbles compassionately. “‘Feels bloody cold. I hate compresses too.”

Athos reaches for Aramis’ rosary on the bedside table. He runs it through his fingers, searching his memory for the old prayers. He doesn’t believe in a merciful God, but Aramis does, and they need all the help they can get.

(One week later)

“It’s astounding,” Lemay says, rewrapping Aramis’ leg. “You’re healing remarkably well! I think you’re even ready to start walking on it.”

Aramis smiles. He’s sitting upright in his bed, his natural colour returned to his face, and with clear eyes. His arm is still in a sling, but the fever is gone, and an empty plate on his bedside table proof to the return of his appetite.

“Excellent,” he says cheerfully. “As fun as it’s all been with you, gentlemen” - he looks at his three brothers lounging around him in their usual spots - “entertainment in this facility has been lacking, and I have... matters to attend.”

D’Artagnan rolls his eyes, and Porthos rumbles a laugh. Athos’ mouth twitches.

“Before you do,” Lemay says seriously. “I have to admit that this has been an interesting lesson.”

“Yer admitting that bleedin’ people is wrong then?” Porthos’ face grows stern again.

“I’m not.” The doctor looks pensive. “We don’t know if blood-letting would have changed the outcome. But the fact that you’ve recovered so quickly, much quicker than I would have thought possible - I’ll give it some thought.”

Aramis gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Bleeding makes no sense in a patient who’s already lost a lot of blood. It only drains them of their strength.”

“...and I told ‘im so!”

“And I am very glad you did.” Aramis gives his best friend a warm and genuine smile.

“In that case,” Lemay continues. “I will consider it the next time the occasion arises.”

A moment of uncomfortable silence ensues. They all know that there will be a next time. They are soldiers. They will get wounded, and they will lose blood. It’s only a question of who’s turn it is next.

“Until then, will you please excuse me?” Aramis breaks the uneasiness, mischief in his voice and a sly glint in his dark eyes. “I need to get dressed, and if someone could fashion me with a cane? There is a lady who is desperate to assure herself of my well-being, and I would like to receive her fully clothed and on my feet.”

“I bet she’s desperate to assure herself of something else as well,” d’Artagnan comments wryly, but the tension is broken.

“I will leave you to it, then.”

Lemay takes his medical bag and leaves. Athos leaves as well, after a last warning in Aramis’ direction to take it easy. As he pulls the door to the infirmary closed, he hears the voices of his brothers behind him - banter, teasing, laughter. A weight drops from Athos chest. Straightening his spine, he strides back to his captain’s office. He, too, has matters to attend.

(Read all of my Whumptober fics on AO3, here)

#whumptober 2020 #whumptober #the musketeers #15 science gone wrong #fan fiction

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iamtotallycool · 4 years

Text

EOA Ship Appreciation Week Day 4: Music

Decided to do a fic for one of the only actual canon ships!

This was my first time writing for them though and actually had a lot of fun with it, so I hope you do too!

PS the song in here is “I love you too much” from the Book of Life, where this scene is partially inspired from!

Enjoy!

Whether you asked the fishermen at the port or at the bankers located in the heart of the city, everyone could agree that it had been many years since the streets at night in Avalor had been safe.

Everyone knew as well that this was in large part to the mysterious group known as Los Tres. A trio of men who had appeared seemingly overnight a year ago. Some argued that they were demons, beginning their reign of terror by picking those full of sin. Others said that they were ancient Maruvian guardians, sent to protect those that now lived on their lands.

It would probably disappoint them so to know that they were all wrong, and that the truth was that the group were just mortal young men. Royals, yes, but mortal all the same. And, of course, with being a group of young men, they tended to get restless themselves when they had no action to quench their thirsts.

This forced them to find ways to occupy themselves.

Some were more productive than others though.

"I can't believe this!" El Místico exclaimed as he tore a piece of paper off the stone wall and began to wave it around. "They can never get my nose right!"

El Guerrero sighed as he froze mid push-up and used his impressive upper body strength to push himself back onto his feet with ease. He knew if he didn't actually engage in his friend's plights, he would never hear the end of it.

The larger man peered down to see that El Místico was holding one of the groups many plastered wanted posters.

Apparently, according to the local guards, they were considered reckless "vigilantes" which was highly "illegal." Luckily, Los Tres had gained the love and respect of the people that they were more than willing to look to the way or simply shrug their shoulders when questions about the group were pressed.

"You're right, I can't believe it," El Guerrero said with a smirk. "Considering how big it is!"

He didn't say anything about having to be nice or supportive to his friend's needless dramatics.

El Místico just threw his arms at El Guerrero's comment.

"I'm sure El Capitán will agree with how outrageous this is," The shorter man said, pointing his big nose up as he made a swift turn on his heels. However, the barrel the leader of the group had been sitting on was now empty. "El Capitán?"

El Místico then stepped closer to El Guerrero as his hissed out, "Where the hell is he?"

"It's 8 o'clock, hombre."

El Místico let out a labored sigh. "He doesn't know when to give up, does he?"

The large man shrugged. "He's in love, what did you expect?"

"That soft headed man has been in love before," El Místico replied flatly.

"Not like this though, amigo. This one is years in the making." El Guerrero turned to the direction he knew his friend had disappeared to. "And I don't blame him one bit."

El Guerrero had indeed been 100% correct, as Francisco Flores aka El Capitán, quickly slid down the dark allies and rounded tight corners of the part of town that had been familiar to him for years now. One hand pressed to rapier on his hip and the other holding the strap of his guitar that was slung over his back, making sure to keep both items from jostling around.

After a few more twists and turns, Francisco reached his destination. The Reyes Chocolate Shop.

All of the lights in the building were off, but that didn't deter the young man as he quickly moved to the side of the building. His eyes immediately trailed up to the balcony that was located in the farthest corner of the building, where he was met with a lit candle that sat on the railing.

She was here and expecting him.

Francisco unsheathed his guitar as he would his sword. He gave one more glance at the candle before he took his position and began playing the song he had started working on this morning.

I love you too much

To live without you loving me back

I love you too much

Heaven's my witness and this is a fact

His sharp eyes picked up a figure moving towards the balcony doors. They swung open, and Francisco felt his heart race at the sight of Luisa Reyes's face as it came into view.

Tonight, she was wearing her work uniform. Which somehow complimented her curvy figure beautifully.

I know I belong

When I sing this song

There's love above love and it's ours

'Cause I love you too much

Francisco stopped playing briefly so that he could bow to Luisa, he never forgot his courtesies.

"Careful not to play so loud," Luisa said as she placed her face in her hand. "Or someone might mistake you for El Sombrerón."

"Do you think I am Hermosa?"

"I haven't decided yet," Luisa said coyly. "Perhaps I need a closer look."

Francisco smiled as he walked over to the strong and thick vine growth that curled down the side of the building. Muscle memory guided him to all the secret foot holds to allow him to take the easiest and fastest route to up to the balcony.

Luisa smelled of mint and chocolate, and he thought that it suited her perfectly. Sweet, but a sharp undertone that some couldn't handle. Luckily for Francisco, he had an appreciation for just that sort of flavor.

Once Francisco was comfortable and, more importantly, securely sitting on the balcony's railing, he pulled his guitar back over his shoulder with a great flourish. He picked up where he left off as his fingers strummed out the soothing melody.

I live for your touch

I whisper your name night after night

I love you too much

There's only one feeling and I know its right

Luisa had said that she wasn't musically talented enough to pick up an instrument and try herself. She seemed to have an appreciation for it though, as she beautifully leaned against the wall, her eyes closed as she absorbed every note he played.

I know I belong

When I sing this song

There's love above love and it's ours

'Cause I love you too much

As soon he played the final note, Francisco reached into his pocket to produce a red rose, a Flores Red Rose, one from his family's famous bushes that grew in the Castle gardens and was on the crest of their family house.

Luisa's eyes sparkled at the sight of her favorite flower as she gingerly took it from him. She inhaled the vibrant flower's scent before tucking the flower into her hair. It looked like it was made for her.

"Did I earn the lady's favor this evening?" He asked hopefully.

"That was quite the romantic balled. All of them have been." Luisa bit her lip lightly. "I have to admit though, I've never been one for mystery or secret admirers. I prefer for things to be open and straightforward."

Francisco's fingers gripped tightly on his instrument. He had been anticipating this day, but it still caught him off guard.

"I already know you're a royal, El Capitán, if that's what you're worried about." Luisa nimble fingertips lightly grazed over the finely sewn threads of his jacket. Oh, how Francisco wanted to hold that hand. The hand that could delicately decorate even the tiniest candies or punch a wannabe criminal in the face.

Why was he hesitating again?

"Well, I would rather not think about Royal stations." Francisco said, settling for resting his hand on top of hers. "I would rather just for you think of me as just a man, asking a very beautiful woman, to come with him to the Summer Festival tomorrow."

Luisa cocked an eyebrow at him. "And I, being the beautiful woman, would tell this man that I do happen to have the afternoon off from the chocolate stand."

"And then I would ask her if she can meet me by the west-side fountain."

Luisa leaned forward, her aroma becoming more intoxicating. "And I would ask how am I supposed to recognize him, seeing as we've never properly me?"

"I suppose if I were to have something of the lady's, then she could spot me that way."

Her smile broadened a little more, but there was something that wavered slightly in her deep green eyes. Francisco had been raised and trained in the Royal Court to be able to pick up small ques and changes from a person. And he could easily guess the reason for her change in demeanor. This all felt too strongly and was becoming too serious to continue to be a simple flirtation. However, she wasn't going to fully say yes unless she could trust him a little more. And he knew what he needed to do.

"El Capitán--"

"Francisco," He then abruptly. Even though he was breaking one of the most sacred rules of the brotherhood, he wanted her to know. "My name is Francisco Flores."

Her eyes instantly widened. "Francisco?"

The young man gave her a cheesy smile and raised in his arms to convey a way that said 'ta-dah.'

"It's, uh, it's been a few years," She then tried to say casually, but the annoyance in her voice was hard to miss.

"Are you upset?" Francisco asked tentatively, placing his guitar back behind him.

"I guess, maybe. I'm not sure yet." She wasn't looking at him anymore. "It's just...you haven't really visited me since you've come back from studying abroad and now I found that....did you not want to see me?"

"No it's not that, at all." Francisco turned and swung his legs over the railing so that he could face her completely. "My comrades and I returned with a promise to start protecting Avalor for those who need it. So we thought it best to keep our distance in order to not get anyone mixed up in it."

"Well you clearly aren't doing a very good job," Luisa said flatly as she motioned to him, still sitting on her balcony.

That he couldn't argue with that.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. None of it.

He and Luisa had at least been acquainted with each other since they were children. Francisco had loved coming to the shop to spend his allowance and play with her. He had felt maybe there relationship had changed a little when they became teenagers. It wasn't until he had returned though, and first saw her not as a girl, but now as a woman, that he had felt cupid's arrow shoot through his heart.

He wasn't being fair though.

"You're right, that was selfish of me to let this continue the way has for so long," Francisco said. "And for that, I am truly sorry."

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, but her eyes at least met his again.

"Please know that I really do have feelings for you, Luisa." He straightened his posture. "And on my honor. I'll do whatever I can to prove it to you."

A few heavy seconds passed, and Francisco began to fear the worst. That he had let his desire for grand romantic topes cloud him too much to ruin something real that he had with her.

It was a huge relief then when Luisa said, "Wait here."

She disappeared into her bedroom. Francisco pulled a his collar and had enough time to quickly wipe his sweaty palms against his breeches before she reappeared.

"I suppose you really will need something of mine, since I didn't even recognize you."

Luisa surprised him as she now stood incredibly close to him and presented something even closer to him that he couldn't tell what it was for a second. But as his eyes adjusted, he realized it was a blue silk handkerchief.

"This is my favorite," Luisa said sternly as she pressed it into his hand. "So I'll never forgive you if you don't return it."

Francisco felt like he could whoop, and he rarely ever did, except when he was watching an Olaball match. And these days, he was the loudest spectator when Luisa made a point using her incredible skills. He pulled his hand back, their fingers gliding over each others skin and even lingering at the very tips for a few seconds longer.

"I'll guard it with my life," He boldly declared as he securely tucked the handkerchief into the breast pocket of his jacket.

Luisa shook her head slightly at his gallant promise, but the slight blush on her cheeks was hard to ignore.

The City bell then tolled out. Indicating that it was now 9 o'clock.

Francisco sighed as he dropped his head, he wanted to stay here much longer with her, all night if she let him. But, he had made a vow to his comrades that he would only be away for an hour before he would resume his duties.

"Good night, Luisa." Francisco said with a smile, hoping that the handkerchief meant that there was no longer any negative feelings between them.

"Good night, El Capitán."

He was wrong, she was definitely still a little mad.

Francisco kindly bowed to her though and began his decent down the vines, jumping onto the stone road when he was close enough.

He began to walk away, but decided to take a chance and he turned around. His heart leapt a little when he saw her leaning against the railing, watching him.

"If I may ask," He began, his hand nervously fiddling with the guitar strap. "Do I really still have any chance?"

She reached up an gently touched the rose that was still in her hair.

"Ask me again tomorrow," She said pointedly. But the small smile that graced her lips was enough to lift his spirits as she blew out the candle and retreated back into her room.

While the wiser choice for Francisco at moment would be to move through the shadows and remain as quietly as possible to avoid detection, he couldn't help it as he instead jauntily moved down the middle of the street with a little bit of kick in his step.

Let a hundred guards or a thousand ruffians come for him. He felt so good that he knew he could take them all. He had a date with Luisa and nothing was going to stop him from being there.

#Elena of Avalor #Francisco flores #luisa flores #Disney #disney jr #ship appreciation week

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psychosistr · 5 years

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Friendly Four Concepts

Had a bit of a rough day a little while ago and, to make myself feel better, I started looking through the various designs that people have come up with for the Negaverse versions of Quackerjack, Megavolt, Liquidator, and Bushroot- AKA, the Friendly Four. My favorite versions are the ones by @thefriendlyfour, @kaguyamadoka, and @sandyferal - seriously go check them out, they’re all amazingly talented and creative people!

Unfortunately, I can’t draw like they can, but I like designing outfits and creating characters and writing, so I made some outfits and bios for my own versions of the Friendly Four that I’ll be writing stories for soon. Bios are below the cut, I hope you guys like them.

Megavolt

Appearance: Being inspired by superheroes in comic books, Megavolt decided he wanted to look like the classic hero that anyone could look up to. The lightning bolts and spark-stars on his outfit are reflective, so they catch the light when he uses his powers. The belt around his waist is actually a cable connected to the large battery in the middle that channels power up through a secret port on his back hidden by his cape (The pockets on the back actually hold his back-up batteries for when his main one needs to recharge). He also wears elbow-length gloves that are the same color as his cape with little metal lightning bolt emblems on the back, wrap-around safety glasses to both protect his eyes from the light he constantly puts off during his attacks as well as to serve as a mask, and blue boots that match the trim of his sleeves with metal plates along the bottoms and the toes. He doesn’t wear any hats or anything, but his powers still make his hair frizzy, so he keeps it cut fairly short so it’s more manageable.

History & Personality: Elmo Sputterspark was very intelligent and always loved inventing things, especially machines that would help the world solve energy and fuel cost-related problems. Similar to the regular universe, a bullying accident with one of his machines gave him amazing electricity-based powers. He spent the day testing out his powers to learn what he could do, when, late at night, he heard screaming coming from the area of the school their prom was being held in. He rushed over and found Negaduck there, terrorizing and attacking their classmates. Elmo fought back to protect them, making sure everyone got away safely. From that moment on, he decided that he wanted to be a hero and fight injustice- especially when it came to tyrants and bullies like Negaduck.

He’s very kind and selfless, often putting the comfort and safety of others far above his own, and enjoys talking about his hobbies and studies for long periods of time with people who are willing to listen. He’s also very cautious with how he uses his powers, both because he doesn’t want to risk draining himself too much and because he is always nervous about hurting someone irreparably (happened early in his hero career and scarred him mentally- does not EVER want to do that again). He does still have memory problems, but he tries to compartmentalize everything in his life into “must remember” “should remember” and “okay not to remember” so that he won’t lose the people and things that are most important to him- namely his three partners.

Inspiration: As a kid, I loved playing with plasma balls. I always thought they were a fun way to learn about electricity and loved the colors. So, I thought it’d be cool to give Megavolt an outfit with plasma-inspired colors and lightning bolt accents.

Quackerjack

Appearance: While his costume isn’t as puffy as his regular-world counterpart’s, he makes up for it by being even more colorful! Still following a sort of clown-theme, Quackerjack’s shoes and cowl are the same style, but the shoes are pink like his belt (almost making them look like ballet slippers but darker) with a big golden bell on the top of each shoe and his cowl is yellow on his right side and blue on his left (going opposite the colors of the fabric around his waist) and still has one large bell on the end of each side. The metal baseball bat he carries is his signature weapon (though that blue pouch on his belt also holds an impressive arsenal of toys and gadgets that seems almost bottomless sometimes and he hides things like jump ropes and larger weapons under the fabric around his hips), and is painted in a diamond tessellation of his outfit’s colors all the way around. The heart-shaped piece of metal on the bat’s hilt at first looks like a magnet meant to hold the red tail-ribbon in place, but, when pressed, it activates propulsion-rockets hidden within the bat that give him extra speed and force when swinging it. Also, Quackerjack enjoys sewing and added the toy-patches on the back of his shirt himself to cover up the holes in his costume from a fight, and gladly adds patches to his teammates’ outfits when they need a repair job done.

History & Personality: Jackson Bell, CEO and founder of Quackerjack Toys, was a well-respected businessman and beloved figure to many for years- he was a community activist, ran many notable charities, and even helped establish several orphanages and children’s hospitals using the proceeds from his company. Unfortunately, when Negaduck’s rule began, he was one of the prominent figureheads in the city that openly spoke out against him. To get him out of the way, Negaduck struck a deal with one the toy company’s biggest competitors and the two managed to frame the CEO for a crime he didn’t commit, locking him away for years and dissolving his company. Jack went a bit crazy in prison, constantly trying to find the brighter side of things, even when one wasn’t really there. At one point he entered a prison-penpal program and met a girl he became very close to- they even started living together when Jack was released from prison. His then-girlfriend helped Jack get his life back in order and helped him find his confidence and sanity again, inspiring him to go out and help others like she helped him. Unfortunately, some rather dark facts about his girlfriend came to light and the two broke up, but Jack still holds out hope that one day they can work things out and she can find a way to be a part of his life again alongside his three new partners.

There are two sides to the toy-loving ex-businessman. When he wears his cowl and hero outfit, Quackerjack is a bright and bubbly individual that loves making puns and laughing about all sorts of things. Outside of the costume, though, Jack is a surprisingly mellow guy with an almost monotone speech pattern- he’ll still crack jokes, but they’ll be said with more sarcasm and dead-pan humor that’ll often make people do a double-take to make sure they heard him right. Despite the glaring differences in his personality, at his core Quackerjack is a very compassionate person that wants to help anyone that seems frightened, lonely, sad, or lost (in any sense of the word). He’s very open and vocal about his feelings, often wearing his heart on his sleeve to varying degrees depending on what state of mind he’s in at the moment.

Inspiration: I went to an art school from 6th-12th grade where I was a theater and musical theater major. During that time, I studied Commedia dell'arte, an early form of Italian theater, and learned about the Harlequin clown character. I decided to base Quackerjack’s outfit off of the classical theater clown’s bright color scheme and more stream-lined clothing style.

Bushroot

Appearance: Similar to how his regular-world counterpart fused with a plant, Dr.Reginald Bushroot in this world infused himself with a Solanum carolinense. The viney nature of the plant gave him a slightly different appearance with thorn-covered vine-arms, three slightly-pointed oblong leaves for each hand (two longer ones and one shorter one to act as a thumb), an upper body covered in fine hairs that make his green torso a bit fuzzier, legs made of woven vine-roots that he can disassemble and reassemble at will to help him climb objects, and a purple flower on his head like the plant he fused with (one large petal curls downward and covers half of his face like a long set of bangs, the back two petals stick up parallel to the top of his head, and the middle two are halfway between the two levels of elevation, along with a few smaller yellow petals that stick straight up to cover the top of his head in the middle of the larger petals). The jacket he wears was actually a gift hand-sewn by Quackerjack- the sleeves have extra-thick padding so Bushroot doesn’t accidentally stab anyone with his arms and the flower-patch sewn into the back was meant to be a parody of the flower on his head. Bushroot won’t say it out loud, but he really loves that jacket and refuses to take it off unless absolutely necessary, so he often wears it completely unbuttoned to stay cool unless he’s trying to blend in with a crowd.

History & Personality: Dr.Reginald Bushroot was a brilliant botanist at the local university, always striving to make the next big discovery that would improve the lives of those around him. Living in a town run by Negaduck, however, made conducting his research even harder legally, and he was forced to quit his job at the institute to avoid getting his coworkers fired as well. With nothing else to lose, Bushroot experimented on himself in a fit of self-destructive behavior and ended up as a plant-duck mutant. He excitedly showed the results of his research to his former coworkers, only for them to sell him out to Negaduck to save their own jobs (and lives). Barely escaping Negaduck’s clutches, Bushroot grew bitter towards humanity and decided to live away from everyone in the solitary safe-haven of his greenhouse on the outskirts of town where he could be hidden away in the woods.

At first glance, Bushroot seems like a cynical nihilist that hates being around people in any capacity. After opening up to Quackerjack and Megavolt, though, it turns out that he’s really just lonely and tired of being emotionally trampled on by society just for trying to be a good person. With their encouragement, he decides to try helping humanity again as part of their team, though he still maintains that he doesn’t really care what happens to the world. He’s actually a pretty big tsundere and has trouble admitting that he likes (or loves) anyone/anything in his life, but his actions always speak louder than his words and he shows he cares for his partners in little ways like making flowers grow around their rooms and bugging them to take care of themselves when they’re working too hard.

Influence: I actually live in the Carolina’s, where solanum carolinense (otherwise known as Carolina Horsenettle) grows and thought it would be a cool plant for Bushroot to fuse with. Those weeds are nightmares to deal with: The thorns hurt like heck to grab, even with gloves, but you NEED the gloves because the toxins in the thorns make the wounds hurt worse and can even get them infected if you’re not careful. They’re also very tough to pull out because of their strong roots and, worst of all, they grow fruit that looks JUST LIKE tomatoes. That last part may not sound so bad, but, down here, wild tomatoes can occasionally sprout up and kids and pets love them as snacks, and Carolina Horesenettles are actually members of the DEADLY NIGHTSHADE family, so their fruit can be LETHAL. It’s a pretty but deadly plant and really quite fascinating to study.

Liquidator

Appearance: Bud Flood in the negaverse is quite a bit shyer than his regular-world version, so he actually changes the water around his body to look like he’s wearing clothes to feel more confidant. The outfit is similar to what he wore before his mutation, except back then it was black and white with a long-sleeved white shirt beneath the button-up vest and he had shoes instead of a big puddle at the ends of his legs. He can change the hue of his “clothes” by messing with their chemical composition (like how he can turn water hard or move pollutants around in it). The metal accents such as his buttons and belt buckle are actually small bits of ice that he allows to float in place along his body, but he can quickly melt and dissolve them at a moments notice when his body needs to change and reform them instantly when his body returns to its normal state. Also, the bow around his neck is actually a ruffled cravat tied into a bow and the water ripples along it to make little waves at the ends of the bow’s ties.

History & Personality: Along with Jackson Bell, Buddy Flood was one of the other influential figureheads that opposed Negaduck, though he was far less vocal about it. Still, Buddy cared about peoples’ health and well-being and used proceeds from his company to open non-profit free clinics and hospitals as well as soup kitchens for the poor so people could always have access to fresh water and food when they needed it because, sadly, most of the town’s water sources had become polluted, meaning that many people had trouble finding sustenance that wasn’t pre-packaged/bottled. Negaduck grew irritated at Buddy’s continued meddling in his plans to ruin the city so, to get him out of the way, he called in a fake warning that someone was going to poison his company’s water supply. Buddy went with a few guards and officers to investigate, but, when they saw who it was poisoning the water, they all ran away and left Buddy alone. Negaduck caught him and threw him into the contaminated water in hopes of killing him- he even tied weights to his legs to make sure he’d sink. While he didn’t die and instead became a water-based mutant, the incident left Buddy quite scared to face people directly for a while.

Although he is extremely shy and anxious when dealing with other people, Liquidator swallows down his nerves for the sake of helping others in need. As a sort of coping mechanism, Liquidator goes into “salesman mode” when talking to people he doesn’t know or just when he feels nervous in general- by pretending everything he says is for the sake of pitching a sale to someone, Liquidator feels less nervous and is able to get through a sentence without the stuttering that would normally accompany his words. In a way, his manner of speaking serves as a great indicator for how he feels about other people: If he can talk to you like a normal person then he feels comfortable around you, but if he can talk to you like that AND not stutter at all then you’re probably one of his three partners and he loves you with all his heart.

Influence: I honestly just liked the idea of having Liquidator create his own clothes out of water since he seems to know so much about changing its properties and chemical make-up. I feel like in this world, the flow of his water would go upwards from the base of water at his feet rather than the other way around, which is why his pants are darker than his vest- giving him a reverse waterfall effect.

#friendly four #megavolt #quackerjack #bushroot #liquidator #dwd #darkwing duck

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leolamin97 · 5 years

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Story Pitch:

The Loud House X Scooby Doo

Scooby Doo and The Loud Curse

Plot:

The Loud's for family reasons take a trip to Massachusetts to a town called Quiet Stone. To a family estate that is apparently theirs, though the townspeople seem to have a stigma with them in regards to a curse placed upon their town by a Loud in 1800s. They say that youngest daughter of the Loud Family at the time Lucille was a witch and after her brother was killed in a fire. She fled the town and placed a curse upon its inhabitants for years to come summoning the spirits of past dead Loud family members to haunt the town and cause chaos.

Around the same the Scooby gang has made a stop here as well taking in the scenery. That night at a town party when the Ghost of Lucille Loud who looks a lot like Lucy appears before everyone in the town in a massive shadowy cloud that overtakes the Fairgrounds. She says that with the return of her family the time has come for her curse to come and terrorize the small town of Quiet Stone.

Now the Loud's and the Gang must come together to solve this mystery Travelling around town, discovering areas, finding secrets, locating clues, and uncovering the Lost History of the town and their family. But it won’t be just that easy with the curse in effect they will not just fight 1 but 10 ghosts. Get ready for thrills and chills as they get ready for the fright of their lives.

Main Characters: The Loud House

-Lincoln -Lori -Leni -Luna -Luan -Lynn -Lucy -Lola -Lana -Lisa -Lily -Rita & Lynn Sr. (Are there but don’t play a huge part in the mystery solving)

Scooby Doo

(The Gang are all College age at this point. At least juniors)

-Fred Jones: Based off the live action film and Mystery Incorporated. He is a pretty boy and knows it, has a bit of a ego but knows when to put it away for the sake of his friends. He also constantly surprises people with his knowledge of engineering and architecture. Shows a bit of a geeky side when in large old houses or construction sites. -Daphne Blake: Based of Live Action and What’s New. Always the fashionista and ready to look good. Can be a bit vain but knows when to put it aside. She’s also a bit of a Macgyver able to use either what she has on her person or random objects for a variety of situations. And she is a Black Belt in Martial Arts ready to kick the butt of anyone who thinks she’s just a pretty face/damsel in distress -Velma Dinkley: Live action and Mystery Incorporated. Smart and she knows it, with a bit of Sass when she talks. She’s a bit socially inept cool with the gang but has trouble when talking to others when she isn’t talking about clues or mysteries. The only thing scarier to her than the ghosts and monsters is being forced out of her comfort zone and trying new things, though she is at least willing to try. -Shaggy Rogers: Pretty much every Shaggy Ever. He’s the lovable slacker who is stuck in the 60’s. Would rather not go into such terrifying situations, but loves to help those in need. Will run from danger in a heartbeat and then run back if a friend is in need. Also very knowledgeable about food and is a great chef. -Scooby Doo: It’s Scooby what else do you need to know. ;P

Original Characters:

The Quiet Family: Respected Members of the town descending from the town settlers -Quinten Quiet: Father and Mayor of the Town -Lila Quiet: Mother and head of the Festival -Quain Quiet: Son 14yrs, Magician in training always trying out new tricks and has a stage show in the festival -Queenie Quiet: Daughter 11yrs, A tech head with a IQ close to Lisa’s and Velma’s. Though she’s more focused on Machines, has a dry and sometimes dark sense of humor

-Old Man Barksdale: The Town crazy fully believes in the legend of the Loud Curse. Spends most of his time telling people to beware as he rides about on his old Bike. -Nick Barksdale: His grandson loves his Grandpa and likes hanging out with him despite his parents telling him to keep his distance. But he believes in the Legend and wants to prove that his grandpa isn’t crazy

-Eveline Dupree: The Goth and assistant Librarian. Another believer of the Legend has extensive knowledge of the Curse and the Loud family tree, even of them weirdly.

Ghosts: The family and the gang are facing off against 10 spirits each with a different theme and motif. But the strangest thing all of them look like a member of the family and the sibling who looks like them is mysteriously gone whenever they show up. Why is that? That’s the mystery. ;)

-Lincoln/Lucas Loud: From the 1800’s the first ghost the run into a mirror image of Lincoln. Only wearing a tattered/burned suit fitting of the times with a pair of gloves. His eyes are starch white, he seems to have fangs, and is able to throw fire as well as engulf himself in flames

-Lori/Lorelei: Coming from the late 1700’s she is a poltergeist appearing in a beautiful haze floating in the air wearing a beautiful dress and a veil over her face. However, if you get closer she’ll reveal her true face having some monstrous visages and fangs. Her power seeming to be to move various stuff at will with her otherworldly power.

-Leni/Lia: From the early 1900’s she is a voodoo Zombie. With green skin, a terrible smell, stitches, and a sewn-up mouth. Her clothes are worn and damp from rising from the swamp waters. Not the brightest but is incredibly strong able to lift the back wheels of the Mystery Machine of the ground. She is a terror to be chased by but she’s only one half of a larger act.

-Luna/Lillith: From the 1600’s she was killed after being called a demon, which now seems to be true. Purple skin, horns, claws, dark markings on her body, and red snake like eyes. She can throw purple fire and has a glass shattering banshee scream. When you hear her lovely voice on those dark moonlit nice run the other way.

-Luan/Lyla: Late 1800’s a spirit who appears to be very theatrical, dressed as a clown with yellow and purple, covering her face with a terrifying mask, and letting out a horrifying cackle as she floats through the air. Incredibly tricky leading people into her own traps and loves to play and scare. She breathes fire from out of her mask and seems to be proficient in knife throwing.

-Lynn/Lucia: From the 1700’s right out of the American Revolution. She wanted to fight for freedom and died for it. Wearing a tattered military uniform, a pot on her head, carrying a old timey musket and sword. She is relentless and is always down to win the battle, take cover when she takes aim

-Lucy/Lucille Loud: The little sister of Lucas and the one who started this curse. Appears in a cloud of darkness wearing a dark cloak, razor fangs and claws and a dark grim voice (so not to different from Lucy). She doesn’t appear much only to make her proclamations and strangely Lucy actually saw her at the start with everyone else.

-Lola/Lillain: A 15th century vampire princess wearing her beautiful regale attire that contradicts her monstrous personality. Armed with razor fangs and claws that you want to keep away from flesh. But like any royal she prefers not to get her hands dirty when possible, which is why she usually has her pet take care of things

-Lana/Liana: Lillain’s twin/pet wolf-girl vicious and ready to obey her master. She will tear through anything to get to her target and complete her masters orders

-Lisa/Lila: The second half of Lia the Zombie, Lila is a Voodoo witch doctor the one who brought Lia to life. Despite her size in incredibly dangerous, able to use variety of potions to create horrible monsters to do her bidding Lia included

Fun Facts/Ideas:

1. The first chase/encounter with Lucas Loud is based heavily on the intro to Scooby Doo on Zombie Island with it happening in the ruins of the old Loud House. Accompanied by the cover of “Scooby Doo Where are you” by Third Eye Blind.

2. I would have “It’s Terror Time Again” by Skycycle play for the chase with Lillith. It rocking just like Luna.

3. While running away Leni ends up behind the wheel of the Mystery Machine and a crazy chase ensues as they try to avoid the ghost and not die.

4. Lyla is based off of the Luna Ghost from the beginning of the 1st Live Action Scooby Doo film

5. Lillith was based off of the Demon Luna pics by Mast3r-Rainb0w

6. Lincoln recognizes the gang because he follows them online, they are his second favorite Ghost hunting team

7. Despite all the horrible monsters Lily is never afraid. In fact she actively tries to approach them in every encounter only for Scooby or one of her siblings to grab her and run the other way.

8. When they encounter Lucia the scene is like the encounter with the Black Knight from Monsters Unleashed. With Daphne trying to fight her off and help the others

#the loud house #scooby doo #crossover #ideas #fanfiction #Cartoon network #nickelodeon #cartoons #ghost

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snake-house · 7 years

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Tom Riddle X Male!Reader - power.

Tom Riddle X Male!Reader warnings: slight sexual themes he/him pronouns used for reader *reader and tom are in 6th year, and reader is a slytherin **au to some degree, he hasn't killed his family basically ___ "I don't understand what you're asking of me," You pouted, "If you're only asking because of my family name, you should have just said so, I'm the second son, you'll get nothing from me. But, you can speak with my brother." Your said with indifference.

You were used to people trying to get close to you, whether it was from being overly nice or trying to flirt with you, everyone wanted to get close to the Minister of Magic's son. Too bad you could care less about your status, you let your brother take care of all that. But just because you didn't care didn't mean you always acknowledged the fact. Tom narrowed his eyes at you, but the supposed look of intimidation only made you grin more, "I don't understand what you're talking about, [Name], can't I just ask a suitable partner to Yule Ball?" You tapped your finger against your cheek in thought, "No, you can't, because you're Tom Riddle. You think everything over piece by piece before you make a move." You tilted your head to the side and gave him a sly grin, "But, I will go with you as a date on a few conditions." "Why would you think to have the audacity to request things of me?" The dark-haired wizard seethed, slowly reaching his limit with your attitude. "Because I have something you want," You said in a sweet voice like it was obvious, "I'm the minister's son, I could help you get the connections you need to move up. You know your own ancestry will only get you so far," You knew you got him as he tensed with realization. There was a long pause between the two of you. Tom refused to cave to the idea that he would be in debt to someone, but he eventually gave in. "What... are your 'conditions'?" "Ah, I'm glad you're complying Tom," He growled, but you simply giggled, "I'm sure you've noticed the... type of people I tend to associate myself with? I don't really care about my blood status or my social standing at all, being the youngest in my family, they don't care what I do with my time as long as I don't make anyone look bad. But, that doesn't mean I always do as I'm told. "I know you tend to sleep with people to get what you want, it's no secret, but that isn't what I'm going to ask of you. What I require is a little more... permanent. Are you scared, Tom?" "Why would I be scared of you? You're magically and physically inferior to me," He spat, eyes blazing with fury at the fact you were dancing around the topic of what you wanted from him. "Because you don't like things that are solid and permanent, and that is exactly what I want." "Just get to the point." You smiled and clasped your hands behind your back in an innocent gesture, "When you make it to the top, because I know you will with my help, I want you to make me your wife. I'll give you all the connections my family has, whether it is to be politically powerful, or powerful in other areas, I'll help." You wanted to laugh at the fact you actually caught Tom Riddle off guard by your request. He didn't know what to think. Yes, you were correct that most people did wish to sleep with him when he wanted something, he was good at using his good looks in his own favor. So he was expecting that, not the fact you wanted to permanently be at his side when he ascended through the ranks of the wizarding world and eventually reaching his ultimate wish for immortality. "Why would you want that?" Tom didn't know why he asked you this, but the words came out before he could stop himself. "Because my parents hate the fact that I'm gay, but once they see that its you that I am interested in, I know they'll think twice. Not only are you a descendent of Salazar Slytherin, but you are very powerful. We both know I don't care about status, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the benefits of being a high-class pureblood wizard. Add in the fact that we will be an item, I will be envied by everyone and you will have all the power that you could ever want." You grinned as you watched the other wizard think over his words. Tom's eyes bore into yours but you didn't let your own gaze waver, "You want to be by my side as I come to power?" He asked to clarifying what you had said. "Yes," You unclasped your hands to tap your chin thoughtfully, "Plus, wouldn't it look good if you tied yourself to someone? It might make you look normal and not as power-hungry as you are. I'll even say that it doesn't have to be a physical relationship, it can merely be for show and for both of our benefit, socially that is." He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing on you, "You want all of that, when I only wish to take you to Yule Ball." "Of course," You said in a fake innocent tone. "Fine, I will make an effort for this all to work. Whether it is considered a contract or a relationship, I will try. But I keep no promises, as I don't expect you to as well." You smiled and shook his hand, "I'll be going to Hogsmeade this weekend, come with me so we can get matching robes," With a happy laugh you left him alone. Tom watched your form leave, shocked and completely puzzled by the interaction he just had with you. He now knew why you were sorted into Slytherin in the first place. He also knew you were lying about the fact you could care less about your status, he's seen the way you are around people. You relish in the way they true to woo you into their favor. With your father being this minister, and your brother well on his way to following your father's footsteps, everyone wanted to be your friend or at least on your good side. Tom wasn't the only power hungry student in Hogwarts. -- "Hmm..." You walked around Tom's form on the pedestal, "I think the one you were wearing before suits you better, but in green of course. Green looks good on you." You said. "Will I be able to give you such critiques when you step foot up here?" Tom hissed, the edge of his words licking with parseltongue. You grinned, "Of course, it wouldn't be fair if you didn't, don't you agree?" You turned to talk to the seamstress as Tom went to change back into the other robes he was just wearing. "Yes, you look amazing in those robes, I think a black button-up shirt would look the best underneath, don't you agree? You don't have to answer, you're wearing black underneath." You stated as the witch came up to tailor the set of robes. They were your favorite out of the three he tried on. They were a deep forest green that were made of the finest slink imported from Asia. The sleeves and the hem were lined in silver that were charmed to reflect light. They made everything about Tom stand out. His hair, his dark eyes, and after they were tailored, his body would look amazing in them too. He's handsome in everything, but when he wore finer things, he seemed to stand out more. "Why bother asking of you don't want an answer?" With a charming smile, you looked up from your survey of the garment and shrugged, "Because saying it aloud helps the my mind process things." After Tom was fitted for his new dress robes, as well as a few dress shirts and slacks as well as a pair of dragon-hide boots you insisted upon, the dark-haired male sat back on the leather couch set beside the fitting pedestals as he waited for you to come out from the dressing rooms. "What do you think?" The smile in your voice was evident as you stepped on the pedestal. Tom looked your form up and down, "What the hell are you wearing?" You giggled and gave the male a little twirl, "What, you don't like these? These were my favorite," You whined, smoothing down the fabric on the thighs, "I was think it would look better in blue though..." "No, change immediately. I will not be seen with someone wearing pink floral robes to the ball." Tom deadpanned with a wave of his hand, "I know you just wore those to get a rise out of me." You stuck your tongue out at the dark-haired wizard, "You are no fun. But, it is obvious you have never seen me out of our school uniforms, you'd be surprised by what I like to wear," You flashed him a grin as you stalked back off to the dressing rooms to put on a different set of robes. Your comment unsettled him. Tom knew he couldn't live his life with someone who wore things like floral robes on a regular basis, he would rather die than live like that. However, his mind immediately changed as he watched you step onto the pedestal for the second time. You stood upon the pedestal in shimmery midnight-blue robes. They were translucent at the edges to give off the allusion of the night sky, and did you take his breath away. "What about these? Do these meet your approval Tom?" You asked, turning to see the back in the mirror, and that is when Tom almost lost it. Because the robes were backless, Tom assumed this garment wasn't classified as robes in the first place. Tom had to keep himself in line as he watched you survey yourself in the mirror. He was human after all, and was still only sixteen and felt everything that a normal sixteen year old boy would. "Are those women's robes?" Tom asked in an astonished voice. You smiled and nodded, "Aren't they stunning? Of course because this is a school function, I will have a back sewn in, but when I saw this on display, I had to try it on. They only make robes charmed like this for women, which I don't understand why. So, what do you think? Am I up to par?" Tom once again let his eyes roam your figure, taking in every inch of your physique, "Truthfully, you look absolutely," His eyes shot up to yours, "Delectable." You instantly flushed at his words, turning away from the Slytherin heir to let the witch start tailoring the garment. "But," Tom began, standing to walk over to you and the tailor, "Don't have a back sewn in, if you have to," One of his hands rested at the base of your neck and slowly traveled down your bare back, leaving gooseflesh in its wake, and stopped at where your natural waist line was, "Only bring the back up to here rather than at the top of your tailbone, it will make your arse look amazing." "But the professors, they'll definitely call me out and make me leave," You mumbled, refusing to let him know how both his voice and hands were affecting you. "Let them, I won't let them make you leave. And before you even say it, let people stare, if you're adamant about being by my side till the end of days, I want people to envy you as you hang off my arm." There was a chuckle from Tom, but you refused again to give him the pleasure of seeing how you were reacting to his words and kept your head turned away. Tom loved your reaction, more so than he anticipated. If you had a weakness for compliments, he knew how win you over for his favor. "I-I don't know..." "What happen to your confidence? Though I do love this submissive side of you," He dropped his hand and went back to his spot on the couch to watch you get fitted, "At times your fiery side is quite fun." Once you were both fitted, and your things sent back to your dorms at Hogwarts, the two of you walked around the shops of Hogsmeade, you insisted on going into Honeydukes to get a few sweets. You were happy to find out that he had a sweet tooth and started showering him with gifts of candy. "I could only imagine what you're going to be as a spouse," Tom muttered as you draped yourself over the male in the common room as some sort of possessive display. You hummed, glaring at a seventh year girl walked passed and tried to brush her hand against Tom's hair, "I like to make it known what's mine, don't worry, in certain situations I won't be nearly as bad." You promised. "If you're allowed to stake your claim," He said lowly, pressing his mouth to your ear as he spoke, "I will do just the same because I know after Yule, others will start to look at you in a new light. And I won't have that." You practically purred at the statement, turning to look him in the eyes, "Do you promise?" "I'd make an unbreakable vow to the claim." He stated, snaking a hand under your shirt in a provocative display as he pressed a kiss to your temple, "When your robes come in, you'll try them on for me so I can see the full effect before anyone else?" "Of course." "Good. Also, I hope you're a good dancer by the way, I refuse to dance with someone who will make me look like a fool." Tom added, as if the thought has been bugging him for a while. "I'm a marvelous dancer actually, you have nothing to worry about. You should be worried because I took dance classes when I was little and will be much better than you will be on the dance floor." You grinned. Tom cocked his head to the side as he gazed down at you, "Is that a challenge?" "What do you think?" "I think you've got quite the nerve to challenge me [Name]," He warned, but even with the dark tone of his voice, you could see the playful glint in his eyes. You waved your hand dismissively at his threat, making his eyes narrow at you, "Don't worry, I'll never truly challenge you," You grinned, "... in public that is. Anyways," You stood gracefully from his lap, bending down to kiss the corner of his lips, "I'm going to bed, our robes should be here tomorrow if you want to see them." You didn't wait for his reply as you headed up to your dorm room, ignoring the stares you got as you walked away. It was Lestrange who walked up to Tom and ask the question everyone was thinking, "Since when has the minister's son been your new toy?" He asked as he lazily sat down next to the dark-haired wizard. Tom shot him a look but humored him with a reply, "Since I've asked him to Yule ball, why? Did you wish to play with him?" The Slytherin Heir was surprise, not that he would show it on his face, at the flush that filled Lestrange's face at his words, "Not at all, especially since he's with you," He mumbled, "I was just simply curious because you've never really seemed interested in [Name] before." Tom hummed in response, "I'm aware of the fact, but that's because he suddenly has something I want." "And that is?" Lestrange baited. "None of your business as of current." Tom stood swiftly and looked down at the boy, "When it is your business, I will let you know. But, not right now." Tom wasted no time in leaving the other male to his thoughts as he made his own way up to his dorm room for the night. -- When you let Tom into your dorm room after you changed into your dress robes for him to see, you stood, rather shyly Tom noted, with your hands clasped in front of your being. Though your demeanor seemed shy and bashful, you held your head up and shoulders back with confidence that made Tom understand what was going through your head. You weren't nervous about the way you looked, you knew you looked good, you were nervous in how Tom would react to seeing you in your ensemble. And it was the first time Tom found himself having to control his teenage hormones. Tom crowded you in and placed his hands on your hips, pulled you closed to him. A gasp fell past your lips as he trailed his nose up your neck, "What are you doing?" You whispered, hesitating before you placed your hands on his shoulders. "It looks good on you," He said simply, "Let's see if your dancing skills are really up to par." You grinned and got into position as he gracefully led you into a simple waltz to a silent song in his head. And doing your part, you followed his lead with perfection in every step. "You surprise me Tom," You drawled as the short routine came to an end, "I thought I would have to lead you in this area, but I was wrong." The taller sighed and openly rolled his eyes at your statement, "Very funny, do you have little faith in me?" You shrugged, "Anyways, I believe we will certainly not only surprise everyone at the ball, but I also believe we will stun everyone in the room, including the professors. We make a lovely pair." "Thank you, I think so too. We'll stun them all," You grinned and kissed his cheek, "If that is all, I'd like to change into my pajamas and get some sleep." You said as you made your way to your nightstand to fish your pajamas from it. "I could always help you change," Tom murmured as he was suddenly pressed against your back, his hands back on your hips and lips pressed against your neck. You paused your actions and instinctively you moved your head to the side to give him more room. Though you weren't one to so easily put yourself in such provocative situations as Tom was known to do, you were highly tempted at the moment, "I'd love to," You whispered, "But I don't think my dorm mates wish to walk in on such a display." Tom hummed against your neck, still peppering the flesh with kisses, one of his hands now sliding up your stomach as the other ventured down to grip your arse. A gasp sounded from your lips followed by a shuddered breath, "Tom.." You warned. The boy sighed and extracted himself from you, not without nipping your neck at having been told no, "Fine, but I believe we need to change something within our little contract of ours." "And that is?" You asked as you finally got your pajamas out and laid them down on your bed and turned to him. "Do you remember your little display in the common room yesterday?" You nodded, "I can understand you being possessive since I have many offers all the time from people, whether it being a date or sex, but you can't even begin to understand how possessive I can get." You shivered slightly at the flash of something dangerous in Tom's eyes made you hold onto his every word. "You stated before we could have an open relationship, just a front to benefit the both of us," He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his robes, "But I won't have infidelity, not on my part or yours. Every part of you will belong to me, because you are mine and it is as simple as that." You mulled over his words before you responded, "I can deal with that. I'm physically attracted to you, and by your reactions I can tell you feel the same so that part won't be an issue. But," He looked at you as you paused momentarily, "I know I will be the one out of the two of you looking for a more emotionally component of this relationship." Tom was startled at the emotion you let yourself convey through your facial expressions, only ever seeing you in complete control of your mask as any other pureblood. He could however understand why you did such an action. "I could look into opening myself up for an emotional component, for you, but that would make you my only weakness and I would have to lock you away if things don't work out." He said simply. Your schooled sly expression was back, and Tom was actually relieved. He wasn't sure how much he could take of human feelings. "You won't have to worry about things not working out as long as you run your every plan by me first. I've lived a life of politics since I was young because of my father, I know when things will work and when they won't," You gave him another kiss, though this time it was on his lips, "Worry isn't a good look on you." "I'm not worried." "Yes you are, but that's alright. Let me be the one to worry for the two of us, and you can be the good-looking stoic man of us. Sound good? Besides as it is, isn't that what a wife is supposed to be?" You giggled at his look of contemplation. You were right after all, "Now get out. Yule Ball is a week and a half away, and I always need my beauty sleep. Shoo." Tom let you push him out of your dorm room and his numbly made his way to his. What did he get himself into? Was this even a contract anymore? You were more open for an emotional relationship that he was, but with how he reacts around you, he wasn't so sure you were the only one. -- On the day of the ball, you took your time getting ready, and thus started getting ready early as most of the girls did. No, you weren't taking your time to put on makeup or anything, you used the time to mentally prepare yourself of what you were going to put yourself through. This would be your first public affiliation with Tom, and starting your debut as a strong political couple. Tom waited outside the Great Hall, where the ball was being hosted, just as you requested of him. He didn't understand why you didn't wish to walk with him, but he humored your request. It was two minutes until the ball was officially supposed to start when Tom spotted you, and he was blown away just as much seeing you in your flattering robes as the other times he's seen you in them. He just wanted to hide you away and keep you all to himself. But he knew he couldn't. You were supposed to look ravishing on his arm, and you were. "I didn't think you were one to flirt with a fashionably late arrival," Tom drawled as he tucked your hand into his arm. You grinned and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, "I only do such things to keep you on your toes Riddle." Everything stopped when the two of you stepped into the Great Hall. All eyes were on you as Tom led into the room, back to the refreshments table first, not straight towards the dance floor. All the tables had been banished or put away, as well as expanded to hold not only enough room for the dancing couples, but as well as smaller round tables where dinner would be served. The ceiling wasn't charmed to show the stars tonight, though you could see a few, the main purpose was the faux snow falling from it, enrapturing the whole feel of yule and winter in the mix. There were looks of awe and envy thrown at you, as well as disgust and anger, as well as a faint air of nervousness as people realized what a pair the two of you made. You expected all of this, and you were going to relish in all of it. Throughout the night, Tom didn't let you leave his side. He noticed the hungry stares from your male peers as soon as you walked in, and he was not going to let another male touch you when you so readily agreed to be his. You were asked more than a dozen times by different guys to dance with them, but Tom didn't let you. You were going to, out of politeness, but with the possessive grip on your hip made you decline every offer. He did say he was possessive, you just didn't expect it to this extent. It was hot and made you feel owned in the right way of saying it. At one point in the evening, after everyone had ate and things started dwindling down, Tom made a point to song you senseless against the wall- in front of everyone mind you. He made sure to reduce you to nothing but a puddle of mush in the process to show everyone that you were his and anyone who got in the way of that would feel his wrath. As you both walked back to your common room, you asked, "When did you want to get married?" Tom paused in the middle of the hallway, not caring if there was anyone who heard this conversation, but he was taken back by the question, "Whenever you want." He replied. With a nod, you continued back to the dungeons, wrapping both your arms around his. "Did you want to save your chastity for that night? Is that why you're asking?" Tom smirked, chuckling as you blushed and tensed against him. "That's-That's not what I meant by asking, I was merely curious of how soon you wished for it," You stammered, only adding to Tom's amusement. "So am I right? If your chastity still intact?" He mused. "Does it matter?" You whispered. He hummed in contemplation, "No, I was merely curious," He parroted. You huffed at his mock, but gave in, "I am in fact still a virgin, and with your possessive streak, I probably just stroke your ego," You sighed as his grin widened, "Don't tease me." "Oh no, I won't tease you. But I will revel in the fact I will own all your first pertaining to your body," He triumphed. "You weren't my first kiss," You protested weakly. "No, but I'll be the first to fuck you," He laughed outwardly as a gasp sounded, seeing as you both just stepped into the common room. You flushed brightly, "You're horrible." "Ah, but you love me, don't you?" "Maybe," You said as you kissed him goodnight and dashed in a flurry of midnight blue to your dorm to change and hopefully find some sleep before Tom came to haunt your dreams. As much as you'd hate to admit it, you were almost positively sure you were falling in love with one of the most feared up-in-coming wizards. You just hope he felt the same. You wouldn't know for a while, but he did.

#harry potter #tom riddle #voldemort #lord voldemort #tom riddle x reader #male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #x male reader insert #voldemort x reader

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fxckmebuck · 7 years

Text

You are more.

Request: “Request Hey! Was wondering if I could get a request? It’s where the reader is Tony’s girlfriend (they’re really in love) and has been for a while but Bucky is completely in love with her? If you could write about Bucky seeing them doing random stuff that you think they would do and his thoughts on it all? Also, Bucky is super confused because she is not his type at all as she likes heavy metal and basically everything Tony does? Btw adore your writing :) ❤” -@y0ulo0ksoco0l

Summary: Bucky had never experienced true love until he met you.

Word count: 3,154

Warnings: Mild swearing

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, I had SO much fun writing it! By the way, I adore you :)

Masterlist

For some unknown reason, Bucky had woken up this morning knowing something was different: today was going to be good.

Loud laughter filled the air, every nook and cranny overflowing with the echo of happiness. The sun seemed to burn brighter as rays of sunlight gleamed off every surface and danced across Bucky’s skin. The darkness that normally marched around the back of Bucky’s mind had been lifted, gloom no longer infected his thoughts and a deep, dark mist was no longer sewn onto his eyelids.

Walking into the living area, which could be frequently mistaken for a youth club, Bucky rubbed the last remaining fragments of sleep out of his eyes. The laughter he heard from his bedroom had grown into a roar of hollering and Bucky certainly wasn’t a fan but, at least, it woke him up.

Despite being comfortably settled in and used to city life, large social interactions still wrecked havoc on Bucky’s anxiety and, therefore, he certainly didn’t want to somehow wind up being asked to ‘join in’ as, after that, there would be no escape. But, he certainly wasn’t helping himself, the longer he stood there, the higher the risk of being caught and reeled in.

All he needed to do was get into the kitchen, get something to eat and get out, a couple more minutes and he’d be able to slip back into the comfort of his room Yet, his feet stayed firmly planted in the doorway, his body turned to ice.

As he desperately attempted to calm his mind and slow the frantic beat of his heart, he took in his surroundings. However, while observing the theatrical setting before him, he noticed a person that he had not seen before.

Every pair of eyes were latched onto her image, confidence dripped off the end of her slender fingers, long blonde hair rippled down her back in waves of delight and elegance, fused with an overwhelming sense of sexiness. She was mesmerising.

Bucky’s heart lost control, once again, and a faint blush climbed upon his cheeks. Never in his life had he seen someone so beautiful. For all Bucky knew, she could have been a model. Her body was perfectly proportioned, her smile sparkled and she was surrounded by an aura of happiness and light. With a flick of her finger, she was able to capture the interest of the people surrounding her; she made them smile and laugh, her confidence was intimidating, to say the least. She reminded Bucky of Tony, well except for the fact Tony was an asshole and the woman before him looked like the complete opposite.

Like the rest of the Tower’s occupants he felt hypnotised by her presence, his body begged to join in, to reach out and touch her…

But, Bucky had to keep away. In the silent corners of his day, demons would creep under his skin and plague his mind –he was still dangerous, he had never stopped being dangerous. Whenever he got close to someone, fate would dangle them before his eyes then rip them away. He did not belong with people of such beauty, he did not deserve to.

Ripping his eyes from her figure, he trekked back to the comfort of his bedroom and begged his mind to forget the addictive smell of her fragrance.

A few hours later the laughter had died down and Bucky assumed the coast was clear. So, he got up and he headed to the gym, desperate to relieve the tension that pulled at his heart strings.

As soon as he opened the door, he sensed the gym was not empty like he had hoped. As he looked around, searching for the intruder, a sea of blonde hair flashed at the corner of his eye. Shit.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky vowed to ignore her. All he had to do was stay for twenty minutes to reduce the suspicion that he was avoiding her then, leave. What could go wrong?

Heading in the opposite direction of where she was positioned, Bucky put in his earphones and turned his music up to full volume, praying that the authoritative lullaby of an orchestra would settle his nerves.

After twenty minutes had flown by, he silently thanked the Gods. He could leave and, oh, he planned to as quickly as possible. Hastily, he turned off the machine, wiped the sweat gathering at his brow and turned around. But, of course, he happened to collide with a body much smaller than his, throwing the person to the ground.

A deep red sprung upon his face as he apologised profusely, helping the young woman up, whom after brushing herself off and gathering her wits, thrust her hand forward, a look of embarrassment flushed through her cheeks.

“I’m really sorry; I shouldn’t have been standing so close. I guess I just grew incompetent in my excitement to finally meet you, Steve has said the most wonderful things.” Her voice flowed like honey and her eyelashes fluttered as she sent a sweet smile Bucky’s way.

Stupefied, Bucky searched for something to say. He longed to shake her hand but she’d held up the wrong one, he’d have to shake it with his metal arm and he wasn’t quite ready for that. Just as he’d formed a sentence that was somewhat coherent within the mess that was his mind, the woman in front of him filled the empty silence instead.

Dropping her arm, her smile faltered as a realised her mistake. “Anyway, it’s lovely to meet you even if I’m currently drenched in sweat. My name’s Rosemary, maybe we could hang out sometime? It was a real shame that you couldn’t join us this morning.” Giving Bucky one last smile, Rosemary turned around and started to leave the gym. Thinking that she’d upset Bucky, she deemed it best to just give him some time; maybe she could try again later.

On cue, Bucky’s stomach growled and gathering all the courage he could find, he blurted out the sentence that led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship. “Do you to get McDonald’s?”

Stopping in her tracks, a smile burst onto Rosemary’s face. “I’m not a big fan of fast food but, after we’ve cleaned up, we could cook something? There’s no point Tony having a massive kitchen if no one uses it.” Turning round to see Bucky’s reaction, her smile grew even as she was faced with a warm smile and Bucky’s sparkling, grey eyes.

“That sounds good!” Bucky agreed.

Every day since then Rosemary and Bucky cooked together: sometimes it was for the whole team, sometimes it was just for them and sometimes they used their impressive skills to microwave some popcorn as they sat down to watch a movie. It gave Bucky, the release he needed. For that small part of his day, he could relax and forget every worry-

“Buck! The plums! You’re burning the plums.” Rosemary shouted as she rushed over to save the day. Well, every worry except burning the food in front of him.

“Are you doing okay today? You look very distracted.” Her voice turned soft as the turned towards Bucky, giving him her full attention.

The truth was that he was more than alright: he felt like he was on cloud nine. He and Rosemary had grown exponentially closer as they spent more and more time together, he woke up looking forward to seeing her and feel asleep still laughing at the mischief they wound themselves up in that day. His nightmares were fading and his face frequently wore a smile, a major improvement since when he’d first arrived.

Day by day he also felt himself falling further in love with her. He now noticed the way Rosemary’s hair shone white in the sunlight, how her blue iris’ were surrounded by a ring of emerald green, how her love of rock music (much to Bucky’s disgust) fuelled her shower sessions in the morning and how, despite her confidence, she often got embarrassed when given compliments.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Bucky sighed, a smile written upon his face. If only he had the confidence to show her how he really felt.

“Good,” Rosemary replied, her voice almost a whisper as she doubted Bucky had told her the truth. “However, I have some bad news: I won’t be able to make our sessions anymore. Tony gets back from his mission tomorrow so, from now on, I’m going to be one very busy lady.”

Bucky’s body tensed up, what was he going to do? How could he get through her day without the smell of her sweet perfume or her infectious laughter? How dare Tony steal his happiness from him!

Much to Bucky’s disgust, Rosemary wasn’t lying or even exaggerating. She always seemed to be doing something or going somewhere and elevator conversations turned into quick nods of acknowledgement as she flew past him on the way to an important meeting, hugs turned into small smiles as they connected eyes from different sides of a room. It was killing Bucky.

His nightmares blazed throughout the night, scorching his mind and covering his skin in a thick layer of sweat. His room became his sanctuary once again, as he missed movie nights and stayed away from the smallest sign of human contact.

But Bucky wasn’t the only one his isolation was affecting, Steve’s heart hung heavy in his chest as he watched his best friend fall backwards into a pit of sorrow. Steve had to do something.

“What the hell happened to you, Buck?” Steve exclaimed, his throat dry and sore. Seeing Bucky like this filled him with so much pain and he couldn’t take it anymore.

Turning his head to look straight into Steve’s eyes, Bucky’s own eyes filled with tears. “I think I fell in love,” he croaked out. The look in Bucky’s eyes was indescribable; they were coated with a raging insufferable ache that turned his grey eyes dark with despair.

“Buck…” Steve sighed, reaching out to comfort his friend, his breath full of unease.

“Go on. Tell me that my feelings aren’t real, that I’m imagining them.” Bucky taunted, his voice laced with spite.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Steve replied, averting his gaze to the floor.

“Yes, you were! You were going to say exactly that, just in the overly polite language that comes out of your mouth. I’ve had enough of people telling me what to feel and what not to feel.” The volume of Bucky’s voice increased as his body turned to stone; the only inclination of his true emotions was that sad look in his eyes.

Just as Steve was about to bombard Bucky with questions about his strong feelings of affection, it all fell into place. One word explaining it all: Rosemary. Without realising it she had strung Bucky along, every time they met he had latched more of himself onto her until Tony came back and she left. Steve would understand if Bucky had described it as a crush but love? How could you feel such strong feelings towards someone who was dating your enemy?

That was the thing: Bucky had no idea. Not wanting Bucky to hate her like he hated Tony, Rosemary had kept it from him. Her intentions were innocent but she’d wound up breaking Bucky’s heart into a million pieces. There was so much Bucky didn’t know that he’d filled the gaps with his own explanations about his arm driving Rosemary away, how she grew scared of him, how she got bored of his company and would now do anything to stay out of his way.

How was Steve going to explain the truth to Buck?

“She’s not the one for you, Buck, and you know it. There’s a difference between being in love with a person and being in love with the idea of that person. Or, maybe it’s the idea of having someone but she’s not yours to have.” Steve didn’t know how else to say it. But Bucky obviously didn’t take it the right way as he quickly stood up, mumbling phrases of hatred directed towards the world under his breath.

Steve was lost, he didn’t know what he could say nor do that would make it better. Maybe there wasn’t anything he could do.

“She’s dating Tony.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them tumbling out, he didn’t want to say it but someone had to tell Bucky and if Rosemary wouldn’t then it was up to Steve.

Bucky stopped, each word slicing a fresh wound into his heart.

“They’ve been dating for what seems like forever. Yes, that time has been filled with breaks here and there but at the end of the day, they always manage to wind up in each other’s arms. I’m not trying to manipulate your feelings, or whatever you’re accusing me of but, Buck, do you even know what you’re feeling?”

Bucky gathered his broken pieces together and kept walking.

“She’s truly a lovely person; she’s intelligent, kind, confident and normal. She doesn’t have a dark past or a hidden super power, the world doesn’t plaster her face in every museum known to man and a secret organisation doesn’t try and take her down. But that doesn’t mean she’s the right person for you. Someone is out there waiting for you to be their hero in shining armour but that girl isn’t Rosemary. She already her hero, she has Tony.”

Bucky was soon out of sight as he rushed away, fearing the words would blow out the small flame of happiness he felt inside him.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Steve cried, consumed with grief at the sight of his friend falling apart right before his eyes and he realised it was too late. Bucky was already torn into pieces.

Days and night soon merged into one as time was not a concept that interested Bucky anymore, he had to let himself grieve and he didn’t care how long it took. Steve’s words had brought him a sense of comfort and he realised the images that he made up in his head were thankfully just a product of his imagination. Bucky had no choice but wait till his body fixed itself, there was no cure for heartbreak or way he would speed up the process but he was willing to wait. It would all work out in the end.

Bucky no longer isolated himself from his friends; he joined in on games night and had frequent competitions with Sam in the gym. He laughed and let himself enjoy the comfort of his closest companions. Of course, the itch inside his chest remained but with every passing moment, it started to fade.

Then, finally, one day it clicked.

The feelings Bucky had once felt were not love, they were just as complicated but not the same. More than anything, it was a sense of admiration that consumed him. He was awestruck by her confidence and charisma but didn’t want them for himself.

Rosemary was an excellent cook but his plum pies were better. Rosemary was a good fighter but Bucky’s metal arm always gave him the upper hand. Don’t get it wrong, it was not a competition to Bucky but he realised all he’d done was put himself down by comparing himself to Rosemary. He’d instilled his happiness in the thought of her and that was dangerous, it had caused him to lose himself. He was too focused on her excellence to appreciate his own. It was impossible to truly compare himself to someone else as, that person had not experienced the same things as Bucky, not had to deal with the same grief and happiness Bucky had been through.

He realised that now and he realised how Steve was right all along: Rosemary was not the girl for him.

Months had passed and Bucky’s heart had healed, he certainly wasn’t ready for another heartbreak but was, somewhat, putting himself out there. He’d gone on a few dates ranging from bad to beyond terrible and maybe it was because he wasn’t used to modern dating or maybe it was Sam whispering (the worst) advice into his ear but he’d decided to ‘go with the flow’. It would happen when the time was right and Bucky was prepared to wait.

To Bucky, dates felt staged and unnatural. The women always seemed to be both kinky as hell and extremely bad at hiding it or scared. Two things Bucky was certainly not ready for.

Walking into the coffee shop, he was caressed by the warm smell of cappuccinos and hot chocolates. The store had recently opened up and, despite its popularity, the queues were short and the drinks were of the highest standard- according to Scott anyway, not that the man needed coffee anytime of the day. But the thing that interested Bucky the most was that upstairs was a library, anytime from 6am-11pm you could waltz into the store grab a coffee, sit down and read your favourite book.

Once Bucky had grabbed his drink, he practically ran up the stairs in order to get his favourite seat in the house. Stuck in the corner next a massive window, Bucky could sit peacefully in silence while admiring the views of upstate New York.

Bucky read in order to calm his mind, the words were a lullaby to his soul that slowed the erratic beating of his heart and transported him to another reality. He could spend days pouring himself into the pages as the dusty old smell sung his mind to sleep. A mind that overworked and over thought, haunted by the taste of blood and the screams of innocents.

“Sir, would you like some more coffee?” Your quiet voice questioned, rescuing Bucky from his thoughts. Looking up Bucky was awe-struck and with a quick nod of his head, he drank you in.

There was a shyness to the woman before him and a softness in your voice, your beauty was not regular like super models but gleamed furiously in the delicate edges of your face and the swell of your lips. It was as if the stars had decided to rest inside the beauty of your eyes, wrapped up in the warm hues of your soul.

Your beauty was not something that could physically be held, it was not determined by the size of your jeans or the colour of your hair but flowed through the warm winds that rippled through your clothes and intertwined with the fiery passion that raced through your veins.

You were neither a model nor someone who walked down red carpets and men would not stare as you walked through the street, due to the fact you were not the embodiment of society’s twisted definition of beauty.

And you were simply not what Bucky had wished for, you were more.

A/N: Constructive criticism is always appreciated! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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