#he says something more along the lines of just wanting to rest/have some relief | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norrizzandpia · 5 months

Note

hey 🧡 could you please do one with lando where you two just have that very special connection. you’re dating for years already and just became each others home / safe place and everyone around you can see? x

The words of this request are so cute like i love it

Also i ended up merging this with the ski trip 🤭 and a proposal bc what other way to best depict two people being incredibly in love than a proposal?? 😍 (i just want to marry Lando Norris)

Ski Trips and Smiles (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n had been planning this ski trip with their friends for months, so she knows everything on the itinerary. Well, at least, she thinks she does.

Warnings: language, yn falling into snow, yn not being able to snowboard, sexual references, slight smut, they get interrupted tho, max being a weepy baby

Note: the one time im in a marriage mood bc i watched the bachelorette

Lando’s hand shook slightly as it rested in his pocket, clutching the black suede box that he had quadruple-checked was with him before they left the house. He didn’t know what he was doing, crazed and manic in love with the woman beside him. She was asleep, head on his shoulder as the plane moved along, quiet and tranquil because of its privacy.

Max sat across from him, eyeing his best friend as droplets of sweat began to form at the top of his head.

“You okay?” He whispered, gaze shifting to the girl beside Lando, the girl who had been in their lives for six years.

Lando nodded, albeit hesitantly, “Yeah, fine.”

Max’s eyebrows furrowed together, “Really? Because the sweat stains on your shirt say otherwise. It’s like sixty degrees in here, mate.”

The Brit’s eyes shifted to catch his shirt, the material soaked through around his chest and armpits. His eyes widened, “Oh shit. Fuck. How do I fix this? She’ll know something’s up.”

Max shook his head with a teasing smile on his face, “Don’t say anything, but I figured this would happen. I packed some quadrant shirts from the new line in my backpack for you. I can get one right now if you want?”

Lando breathed a sigh of relief, “Max, holy shit, thank you. Thank you. But, no. I’ll wait a few hours. Until it gets closer to her waking up. I don’t want to sweat through the new ones too.”

Max hummed in agreement, letting silence take the moment once more.

However, the boy felt sympathy for Lando, the nervousness that was clearly wracking his body at the impending ask, so he tried to reassure him, “Lando, you have got to chill, mate. It’s going to be fine. She’s going to say yes.”

Lando’s frantic eyes bounced around, “But, what if she doesn’t? What if I’ve built this all up in my head and she actually doesn’t want to marry me. I’d rather be her boyfriend for the rest of my life than take a chance and ask her to be my wife and have her leave me.”

Max chuckled, “Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself in other people’s eyes. You’d take one look at yourself right now and immediately talk about how outrageous and ridiculous you sound. You two have been together for six years, Lando. Six years. Let that sink in. Six birthdays, six Christmases, a multitude of times she’s been there for you, 130 Grand Prix, an overwhelming amount of time spent building you back up after racing took you down. She’s been a constant. You know that, Lando. You’ve lived through it. This is just making all that permanent.”

Lando moved his head to stare at her sleeping face, her closed eyes and slowly rising chest making his heart fill with a specific kind of love he had only ever felt for her, and smiled softly, “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” Max gave, laughing airily.

Lando’s hand came to cradle her head, nudging it toward his mouth so he could plant his lips in her hair, whispering, “Maybe you’ll be right.”

—

Her laughing could be heard in the distance as Lando continued to ski toward her. Her head was face planted in the snow, hands messily placed beside her with her foot shoved in the snow, and, even with all the cold she was most likely feeling, the contagious sound filtered through the air and imprinted itself under Lando’s skin. Whether he got chills from the cool temperatures or the sound of her, he didn’t know. He would like to think it was her, though.

Lando rounded around her body, coming to a complete stop with snow spraying behind him as he fell to the ground.

“Y/n! Are you hurt?” His hands, covered in gloves, gently moved her body to sit up, a smile still gracing her face after the accident.

Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin and Lando was sure his heart stopped beating. Her beauty was a kind that was subtle, not truly reaching its full potential until she was laughing or smiling and only then blowing you away with such vigor, it took the air from your lungs. Sparkles in her eyes and soft features, Lando always felt a soft kind of feeling burst within him whenever she blessed him with her gaze. He remembered the first time he caught her sight. She had been a vision in a red dress at the gala his dad had forced him to go to. He remembered watching her as she floated across the floor, wondering how someone who looked his age could act with such elegance, and being completely enamored with the woman she already was at 18. He was obsessed, unwilling to look away, and when she looked back, he learned what it was like to be truly awestruck. Suddenly, she had grown shy under their staring and, when he approached her, the two of them had been a bundle of stuttering nerves. Lando later learned that the change in her demeanor was because of her already knowing his name at that point, already having a crush on him. He found it cute then and he still did now as she looked at him with the same light eyes she did that night. The same gaze she shot him every night, everyday, and every moment since they got together those six years before.

“No,” She shook her head at him, waving her hand in his face as she tried to get back on her feet. When she plopped back down, he laughed at her, apologizing quickly after when she looked at him like a lost puppy. He stood up before her, looming over her sprawled out body before bending his knees and reaching out for her arms. His strong, large hands clutched her biceps as he hoisted her off the ground, pulling her into him and successfully getting her to a stand.

Their skis clanged together at their feet, but the noise didn’t interrupt him from leaning down and pecking her cold lips. He smiled under her reciprocated kisses, blushing over her affection and providing some sense of warmth for their smashed-together faces. They stayed kissing each other sweetly off to the side of the run, wrapped in the other’s arms and completely removed from the world around them. That was typically how it was for them, alone in their own world and completely enthralled with the other.

Six years and that had never changed.

And Lando hoped that wouldn’t change for the rest of their lives.

“Oil! Stop fucking on the ski run!” Max screamed as he passed them, goggles on as he zoomed past. Lando moved his head to the side, giving his girlfriend a perfect view of his stellar jawline.

He yelled back, still tangled in her arms, “Shut up! Thank you!”

Y/n giggled at the two best friends, still surprised at some points by their antics.

He returned to her, head tilted down to lovingly gaze upon her, “How about we finish this run and then we can go back to the lodge? Maybe get a drink or two?”

His eyebrows wobbled, she knew what he meant, and she was quick to hit his chest, “Lando! We are with your friends. They are literally staying in the same room with us.”

He scoffed, “There’s a door! It’s like Max’s and I’s old apartment. We used to fuck in my room all the time.”

She rolled her eyes, “That was different.”

“Why?”

He hardened his gaze at her, challenging the argument she was clearly losing. He smiled triumphantly when she huffed his arms and wiggled out of his hold, “Fine! If you make it down to the end before me, we can go at it!”

His jaw fell open as she began to ski away, giggles ensuing and a sound that echoed in his ear even after she was out of hearing range. When he became unvexed by the sounds he adored to a concerning level, he pushed off and began racing down the hill.

When he passed her, he just smiled knowingly at her and thought of the things they would get up to that night.

—

Lando’s kisses splayed across her stomach sensually as his hands toyed with the hem of her shoulders. Her quiet, breathy moans turned him on to the point he had to rut his hips against the mattress to gain a small amount of relief.

“Like that, baby?” He asked as his hands traced her pussy over her underwear.

She whimpered in return, hands clutching his hair as she stared at the wall in anticipation.

He hitched her legs over his shoulders, burying himself between the thighs that he dreamt of continuously. Whether they were having sex or not, he always found this spot to be quite comfortable. He couldn’t count how many times he had come home from a race to lay in between her legs with his head resting on the low part of her stomach.

She moved her hips closer to his mouth, his hot breath reminding her of the presence that was about to take what he wanted. His fingertips danced amongst her skin as he pushed materials to the side and fully disappeared beneath the comforter.

His head moved slowly under the bedsheets, the only thing she could stare at as she felt his tongue begin licking up her slit. She bit her lip, surpassing moans as to not alert Max and Pietra of what was happening a few feet away from them.

She groaned his name, an almost silent chant of the syllables that had him bringing his fingers to her hole.

He gave her one finger, then another, stretching her out and trying to prep her for him. They always had to do this, whether they liked it or not, he always had to get her slick enough to take him. From the moment they first slept together, it was clear she would never be able to fit him without a sting, and that wasn’t because she was tiny.

He continued his ministrations, the comforter moving around as his head popped up from beneath it.

Muffling words from underneath, Lando moaned, “So wet, baby. You ready to take my big-”

“LANDO, WHERE ARE MY GREY SWEATPANTS?!” Max screamed as he burst through the door.

Pietra appeared behind him, a scolding look on her face that told Y/n Max’s girlfriend knew exactly what was going on in their room.

Max, the oblivious one, continued to stalk into the room, not realizing his friend’s position, “Wait, where’s Lando?”

His eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at Y/n in the center of the bed, a horrified look on her face as she struggled to get words out.

“I’m right here.” Lando mumbled, his words cutting the silence in the room and replacing it with tension.

When his hand appeared from the sheets and he moved them up enough so he could peak through, Max stared down at him, “What the fuck are you doing under there?”

Lando didn’t say anything, choosing to look blankly at Max, waiting for him to understand the implications. Y/n watched comically as it dawned on Max, his features slowly falling as his brain caught up, “Oh… oh.”

To add to the horror etched into Max’s face, Lando nodded and wiped at his mouth, making a slurping sound, “Yep, you caught me eating out my girlfriend.”

Y/n yelped, smacking Lando on the shoulder as Max matched her pitch. A girlish scream emitted from the boy and he was quick to turn and bolt out of the room, Pietra following him close behind with a fit of giggles.

He slammed the door shut when his girlfriend was through, yelling throughout the room about how he was done with Lando and his bullshit.

The boy in question had his head smushed into the warm sheet beneath him, laughing loudly at the moment. His bouncing giggles put a smile on Y/n’s face, letting her forget about the embarrassment she had been feeling previously. Her hand disappeared once more in his curls, tugging softly as he continued giggling into the mattress.

When he came up for a breath, his eyes were red and there was a shimmer beneath them, “Are you crying?!” She laughed, Lando nodding in response as the two leaned into each other, giggling and giggling and giggling.

Their shoulders touched as they keeled over together, Lando gripping her hand as he tried to regain his composure. When it died down, Lando looked over at her, chuckles still coming from her mouth, and kissed her cheek, “Thank you for laughing with me.”

Y/n was about to question his statement, wondering the sentiment and countering it with how funny the situation had been. However, when she met his eyes, the words took on a different meaning. Suddenly, she understood what he meant.

Thank you for continuing to laugh with me.

Thank you for always laughing with me.

The statement was a silent promise of the future. Their future together.

Just, Y/n thought, when would it start?

—

The rooftop of the hotel was filled with bustling adults, glasses clanking together as people joined in boisterous conversation. Lando’s arm around her waist and his whispers in her ear, Y/n felt the love surrounding her that evening.

With their close friends sitting beside them at the dinner table and Lando’s hand on her thigh, she looked around to find everything she could ever possibly need for the rest of her life.

That must’ve translated in her eyes because Lando was leaning down to murmur, “You okay, love? You seem dazed.”

She smiled at him, his heart stopping unsurprisingly, and murmured back, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just really happy to be here.”

He pulled back, a large grin on his face, before he began to stand up, “Let’s make you a bit happier then, yeah?”

She was confused by his words, but couldn’t question it as he began dinging his knife against his glass, quieting the conversations around the table and bringing his friends attention to him.

She stared up at him as he began speaking, “I just have a few things to say and then we can all go back to getting drunk.” He laughed, agreeing noises being thrown out by their friends, “First, I would just like to thank all of you for just setting your busy schedules aside to be here for a little commencement trip of the winter break. This season has been one of fun, especially with the fact that Y/n was able to make it to every race,” He looked down at her, grinning softly before he caught Max’s knowing eyes, “I cherish that, love. Anyways, so, thank you for that. The second thing is something I’ve been wanting to do for way too long, but never gained the courage. Oh, thank you to everyone for helping me plan what I’m about to do. I should probably say that before I actually do it.”

Y/n sat up in her chair, looking around to see everyone nodding at him as if they understood what he was saying. She looked to Pietra, the girl already looking at her and sent her a questioning face. Pietra just shook her head with a smile as she pulled out her phone and pointed it at the couple. Y/n’s head tilted, lost in confusion and not listening to what Lando was saying before he nudged her lovingly and forced her to look at him.

“Y/n, you’ll probably want to pay attention to this next part.” He chuckled, but she saw the way his forehead creased. He was nervous. She couldn’t understand why he was nervous.

He sat back down his chair beside her, turning his body so he could fully face her and grabbing her hands to hold in his. His piercing green eyes caught hers and didn’t let her go, “Y/n, we’ve been together for six years. Six years that you’ve helped me to find who I am as a person. Six years as you’ve made me realize the man I want to be, especially to you. Six years that you’ve spent putting up with me and all the stressful things I get us into. But, most importantly, six years you’ve spent loving me. When I first saw you at that gala, I was so incredibly struck by you. Not just by your appearance, you’re very beautiful, baby, don’t get me wrong, but there’s so much more to you that meets the eye and I knew that that night. I was struck by the way you held yourself, how strong you are and how kind you are to everyone around you. You’re consistently showing me the kind of human being I want to be and every day I try to live my life by making decisions you would. You’ve been a guidance for me and I can’t thank you enough for that, especially when I was struggling in my beginning years of F1. It’s not something I can say to you every day, but I hope you know how much you’ve improved my life since you’ve been in it. Ask anyone here, I’ve never laughed more, smiled more, or felt as happy as I do when I’m with you. You’ve brought such brightness into my life and I want you to know it’s because you are a light. To everyone here might I add. A light. That’s what pushed me to ask you out, to continue to fight for you, for us because the kind of joy you’ve given me just by being yourself has completely flipped my world upside down. That’s what pushes me to do what I’m about to do next.”

Y/n’s hands shook in his as she watched Lando move his chair and get down on one knee before her. By now, tears were streaming down her face at the realization of what was to come. By now, the entirety of the rooftop had turned to see the spectacle.

Lando Norris getting engaged.

He looked up at her, something he didn’t get to do often, and removed one of his hands to pull the box from his pocket. When he opened it, Y/n cried harder, taking his head in her hands and kissing him harshly.

He laughed at her, kissing her back before mumbling, “Baby, baby, let me get through it?”

She chuckled through the wetness coating her face and nodded, “Please,”

He moved the ring higher, presenting it to her as if it was the most important thing. She wondered when he would realize he was the most important thing.

“I don’t want to know anyone else. I don’t want to love anyone else. I don’t want to share my life with anyone else, but you, Y/n. I want it to be you. Only you. For the rest of my life. Forever and ever and ever, be my wife?” He said through a smile and choked voice, glistening appearing in his eyes as he stared up at his love.

She sobbed, screaming, “YES, LAN! YES! OH MY GOD, YES! YES!”

She lurched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into the skin there. His hands gripped her body as they cried into each other, whispering soft words of adoration and love.

“I love you so much.” He said, squeezing her tightly as the restaurant erupted into applause and whoops of cheer.

“I love you too, Lan,” She said back, three words that would never have to go unsaid for the rest of their days.

When they pulled back and Lando slid the ring onto the designated finger, they turned to their table. What they found were weeping faces and large smiles as everyone clapped at the success of their plan.

Max blew his nose at the head of the table, Lando and Y/n laughing at him as Pietra rubbed his back.

“You okay down there?” Lando said with a smile as he watched his best friend.

Max stood from his chair and ran over to the newly engaged couple, shouting words of happiness, “I’m just so happy for you guys! Six years, I’ve been waiting for this! And Lando, you were so nervous and I’m just so happy it worked out. Congratulations! I didn’t expect to get this emotional. I’m just so happy that you’ve found someone to love you even with how horrifically annoying you are!” He rambled, hugging them tightly and continuing to blot at his face.

Lando pulled back, “‘Horrifically annoying’?”

Max nodded, “Yes, and look at her! She loves you for you! I’m so proud of you guys!” He wept again, not addressing the way Lando scrunched his nose up at the insult.

Max pulled them into a hug once more, stuffing his face between the two as Lando and Y/n were left to jokingly comfort him. From over his shoulder, Lando whispered to his fiancée, “Am I really horrifically annoying?”

She shook her head, “Horrifically? No. Annoying, though? Mmm, maybe.” She giggled and smiled at him.

That smile, stopping his heart, made her calling him annoying hurt less. That smile was his everything. That girl was his everything.

Oh, Lando was so gone for her and the ring on her finger just told him he could continue to get lost in her.

For the rest of their lives.

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anticipatecrime · 10 months

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Hello! I was wondering if you wrote for Johnnie Guilbert? If so, I was gonna request Dating Headcannons for him :D !! ( Only if you’re comfortable, ofc! )

𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | johnnie guilbert

a/n: yes i love him <3 take some little dating headcanons, (sorry its short)

•you either meet johnnie from my digital escape, which was a collabrative youtube channel with alternative people

•or he first sees you on omegle while streaming for the first time, shocked to see a punk person

•he gives you his instagram that day after talking with you for sometime and you start dming

•he was quite awkward and shy when you first started talking and calling on the phone, not used to this

•it took a long time of being friends with johnnie for him to ask you out, but you were okay with that because it was worth it

•after my digital escape you didn’t continue with having a social media presence other than instagram

•he never made it a thing to announce it to his viewers, he just kind of included you in videos, and people understood you were together

•at the start of your relationship, he never wanted to be touchy in public or do pda but the more he fell in love with you he didnt care about other peoples opinions

•he would definitely hold your hand, and kiss your cheek, but the rest was private

•would never admit it, but he was a hopeless romantic which means he would always be trying his best for you, and wanting to be near you

•when filming for his youtube or his friends, he would always invite you along, and it was beneficial for both of you, it helped his anxiety and it made you feel included

•he would deal with constant looks and sometimes laughter when he would go outside or go on omegle, but he would never let it get to him, just turning it into a joke

•but when people would comment on your looks, he’d be more harsher and protective

•after a long day of filming, he would collapse into your arms, and cuddle with you, saying he wishes he could just stay there forever

•you would totally go on late night walks or adventures with him to seven eleven

•date wise, he would always get creative and find stuff to do with you

•you both liked going to a different cafe every week or so, ordering something new and just enjoying your time together since you were both busy working most days

•but he still loved just watching netflix on the couch with you, having a night in

•eventually you found a show you both loved, and now you wait to watch it together every friday evening

•he wasn’t one for outside activities, but you encouraged him to go hiking and rock climbing with you and he began to like it.. other than being sweaty and the mosquitoes

•you guys would totally share music, make playlists for eachother and johnnie would eventually encourage you to start singing because your voice was one of his favourite sounds

•he would take you to his favourite bands concerts and gigs, and you would do the same, him loving all of the music you listen to

•as a tattoo artist, you would totally design tattoos for him, and find ideas for his merch line

•he was never one to take things super seriously, but when it came to your relationship, and thinking about the future, it was always thought through

•when you got a cat, he was googling everything to do with the breed, the best food it should eat, healthcare information, which may seem normal, but tell that to the 11 pages of cat research on your living room coffee table

•when you got your first apartment together, no longer having to be in the same space as his roommates, it was such a relief

•he would wait by the door, with your cat, longing for you to come home from the tattoo parlour, and when you did he would be all over you

•i dont care what anyone says, he would be so clingy, just loving your presence

•his love languages are definitely quality time and physical touch. acts of service is up there though

•he loved feeling appreciated

•he would be the sweetest and just the perfect person to be in a relationship with.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnieguilbert #johnnie guilbert headcanons #johnnie guilbert x reader #my digital escape #mydigitalescape #jake webber #yung scuff #anticipatecrime

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lovebugism · 1 year

Text

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ Feel Good

summary: you don't come. ever. well... not until steve harrington comes along. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader warnings: the longest headcanon ever, talks of shitty boyfriends and masturbation, pure smut 18+ mdni! a/n: if you saw this before the repost... no you didn't. and to the anon that requested this: i hope you like it!

( MASTERLIST )

you don't come

this is not an exaggeration

it's purely a statement of fact

because you’ve never ever had an orgasm

not one

not with your fingers, not with a toy, not with a partner, not ever

you get pretty close sometimes

if you're in the right mindset and you have enough time (and a partner who isn't totally focused on their own pleasure

you can actually get really, really close

it’s kinda like climbing a steep mountain and nearly reaching the top

or seeing a glimmer light at the end of the dark tunnel

it always ends the same way, though

you fall from the peak. darkness swallows you whole. the feeling of bliss swells and then disappears entirely.

some of your partners have come up with their own theories

one said you internalized your religious upbringing and turn away from pleasure without thinking

another insisted that it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t make you come because your clit was just too small

the last one told you that you just “needed to love yourself more”

it was exhausting, quite honestly

your partners became your therapist, trying to pry into your mind and diagnose you accordingly

you were an experiment to them

they tried every position and motion to try and get you there, though sometimes it felt like they were only doing it because it felt good for them

some didn’t bother trying at all

they got frustrated with you, called you broken, and left to find someone “normal”

and it fucking sucked

so somewhere down the line, you just started faking it

because that was easier than having those uncomfortable conversations and waiting until they inevitably left you

that ultimately led to you avoiding relationships all together

and then you met steve

and you liked steve

screw that, you liked liked steve

he wasn’t like all the rest of the partners that fucked you over

and for the first time in a long time, you had a really good feeling about the whole thing

but you were terrified of screwing it up

and you were also terrified of lying to him

you were able to avoid it for the most part

that is, until he was about to go down on you for the first time

he’s got you on your back with his head between your legs

you tense when he presses a kiss to your thigh

“you okay?”

“i don’t come” you blurt

“…what?”

“i don’t know why. i’ve just never been able to. and it’s not because of you, okay? so i don’t want you to think you’re doing something wrong or that i don’t want to do this, because holy shit i wanna do this so bad—”

and you’re just rambling

mostly because you feel like if you keep talking, it’ll keep him from saying something you don’t wanna hear

steve just nods and shoots you a small smile from between your legs

“that’s ok :)”

and you breathe out the biggest sigh of relief

because no one’s ever not made a huge deal about it

“can i still make you feel good?”

you just nod down at him bc you don’t trust your voice to say something intelligible

he gives you head that night and he’s good

he’s great actually

but you don’t come

the sex is even better

he makes an effort to find ways that’ll make it feel better for you

he’ll put pillows beneath your hips and push your legs up towards your chest when he’s on top of you

he’ll tell you all the ways to position yourself when you’re on top of him

with one leg bent and your foot flat on the bed so he’s hitting your sweet spot every time he drills into you

and it’s never about him

it never feels like he’s doing crazy positions to exploit you under the guise of “blowing your mind”

most guys only wanted to get you off so that they could feel like some kind of sex god

but steve genuinely wants you to feel good

and he’s so willing to learn your body to help you feel good

one time he sat himself behind you with his chin hooked over your shoulder

“show me how you do it” he said to you

and you did

but it didn't feel like you were some experiment to him either

it was so fucking hot

he made a show out of it, asking you to tell him everything you were doing to yourself and how it felt

“does that feel good?”

“it feels so good—” you interrupt yourself as your mouth falls open in a silent moan and your legs start to tense up

“oh that’s the spot, huh?”

and he likes to learn about all the times you’ve gotten the closest

even though to you it’s mortifying

you’re red in the face the entire time you tell him the only time you ever thought you might actually come was with the shower head

you get embarrassed and hide your face in his shoulder

he’s just like “no, it’s sexy! we can try that if you want?”

but you’re scared that might be a little too exposing and that there would be way too much pressure on you

as always, he’s the most understanding person on the planet

“that’s okay. we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. ever.”

and he makes you feel so safe and cared for

even when you get defeated

because both of you try so hard but you just can’t get there

and after he’s spent an hour between your legs switching between his fingers and his mouth

you start crying out of pure and utter frustration

“steve stop. just stop. there’s no point. let’s just quit.”

and obv when you tell him to stop he’s gonna stop

but he can tell how sad you are when your back is to him and you're putting your clothes back on

and he tries not to smile when you get all twisted in your bra bc you’re so moody that you don’t put it on the right way

“it’s okay baby, we can keep trying—”

“no, steve, it’s not okay! i just don’t get why i can’t be like normal people!”

“there’s nothing wrong with you, okay? some girls just have a harder time than others. it’s okay to come less than other people”

“less?” you scoff “how about never?”

and he’s still patient with you

even while you’re ranting and getting all angry at him and yourself

“i don’t even know why you still try! it’s never gonna happen, okay? ever. you get that, right? there’s no point in trying. you should just find someone else—”

that’s when he stops you

“okay. that’s enough.”

he walks to you where you’re standing in nothing but your bra and underwear and your jeans that you shoved on but didn't button before you started ranting

“it doesn’t matter if you come or not— well, it does, but that’s not what this is about, okay? it doesn’t have to be about having an orgasm. when i’m with you, it doesn’t feel like i’m trying to accomplish something. it’s just about two people who love each other, spending time together, and feeling good”

“…you love me?”

“…was that not obvious?”

the two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling after that

and he’s adamant about not making it about sex

though he keeps having to apologize for his boner pressing into your back

a few days later he surprises you with a present, all wrapped up in with a pretty bow on top

“is it christmas?” you joke at the reindeer patterned wrapping paper

“sorry. that’s all i could find at the house.”

and it’s this huge fuck off vibrator that you know must’ve costed a fortune

you’re totally flustered when you open it and you have no idea what to do with yourself

but he’s so smiley and tells you that he wants to try it with you

and it’s really fucking good

it makes the already amazing sex that much better

you’re on your sides with him pressed against your back

and he holds it against your clit while he fucks you from behind

(he’s having an even better time too because he can feel the vibrations of it from inside of you)

you get the closest you’ve ever been like that

he watches intently when you press your face into your pillow

“are you close?”

you nod wordlessly

“i think… fuck— i think i might come”

and he starts fucking you harder, finding your spot and hitting it over and over again with the vibe still pressed attentively to your clit

a cry rises in your throat and escapes your mouth

and right when you think you might actually have your first orgasm

it fucking goes away

“fuck!”

steve can tell it’s not an exclamation of pleasure, but one of anger

he asks if you wanna keep going

you tell him he can until he comes but that you’re not gonna get there

like a doctor, he prescribes masturbation

and you spend exactly one week using the vibrator by yourself and trying to use it different ways that get you closer and closer

you’re on your back with it pressed into your opening while fiercely rubbing at your clit

and you feel yourself getting closer and closer and closer

it builds in an achingly familiar way

but when the feeling usually starts to ebb, it keeps going

the pleasure crescendos, numbs, and then explodes

having the house to yourself, you don’t bother holding back the noises, the almost painful sounding moans, as they spill from your mouth

the first thing you do when your senses return to you, is call steve

even though it’s 2 a.m.

and when he answers, he’s all groggy with sleep but he’s immediately ecstatic for you

he’s over at your place in ten minutes tops after your promise of recreating it for him

and you’re just absolutely gushing about it and thanking him a ton

because he’s the one who got you the vibrator after all

he wants you to tell him everything so you do

you tell him how you were laying and what you where thinking about

*cough cough* him

and what your fingers were doing and how the real trick was putting the vibe partly inside of you

and you don’t think about how it might make him insecure until the words are spilling from your mouth

because you’ve known guys in the past who get intimidated by dildos and vibrators out of fear that they could never compete with them

steve does express a little bit of that insecurity

he tries to cover it up by joking about how much bigger the toy is than his dick and how pretty soon he’ll be replaced altogether

and he’s laughing but you can tell it isn’t genuine because it doesn’t reach his eyes

so you tell him that you love every single part of him including his dick and that him ‘getting replaced’ is never happening in a million, billion years

when you start trying to get yourself to come again you make sure he’s involved too

both of you are kneeling on your bed and you’re gripping the headboard while he’s fucking into you from behind

one hand is clutching yours and the other is rubbing at your clit

you’ve got the vibrator pressed where you and steve meet

and you can feel him all over you

he’s mouthing at your neck and shoulder

and using his free hand to hold you and tease your nipples

you feel the pleasure start to build and your face scrunches up while you moan

and steve talks you all the way through it

“there you go. you got it— no, don’t tense up, baby, just let it happen... uh-huh, there it is. come for me, baby. come for me.”

and you do

catastrophically so

you tense so hard it almost hurts and you’re shaking like a leaf in his hold

the pleasure is numbing at first before hitting you like a fuck freight train

and you’d be embarrassed about the noises you were making if it didn’t feel so damn good and steve wasn’t praising you the entire way through

“there you go, baby. feels good, huh? you’re so— fuck, you’re getting so tight around me. can barely… holy shit… i can barely fucking move—”

you’re laughing in pure bliss when you feel him coming inside of you

he presses his weight against you and sprinkles wet kisses to your neck, humming praises onto your skin

when you come down and collect your bearings you confess to him, still caught in the post-sex haze, “it didn’t… it didn’t feel like that before…”

“no?”

“uh-uh. felt, like, a thousand times fucking better… 'cause you were here”

and he gets all sweet and blushy, saying he didn’t really do much

but you tell him that it was all him and that he helped you a ton

that he always helps you

“you’re the best sex i’ve ever had steve harrington, orgasm or not”

and this boy is blushing so hard you can see it in the tips of his ears

both of you are love-drunk and happy and dazed

he spends the rest of the night fucking you into your mattress

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #stevie hc #published by bug #st headcanons

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junggunz · 12 days

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beside you ft. jay jo | 🔞

summary: Sneaking around with Jay is one of your favorite ways to pass time. cw: fembodied!reader, smut, lowkey angsty, established relationship, infidelity, homewrecker behavior, fwb!Jay, oral (f receiving), p in v, creampie, all characters featured are 18+ wc: 3k an: i lowkey botched this request lol my badddd might redo it when i dont feel like writing smut so jay's mom can actually walk in on him and reader making out lol. buttt i was SUPER inspired by keshi (specifically beside you duh and just friends) since i associate his music with jay for some reason.

It’s mostly peaceful when things are like this. Being with Jay alone, not having to deal with the loud chatter of your other friends. And most importantly, not having to be face to face with Shelly when you’ve been fucking her boyfriend on a weekly basis–on some weeks, seeing him on the daily.

The silence in Jay’s bedroom is calming until you start thinking too much about the circumstances. You don’t know why you settle for this kind of relationship with him. You’ve laid with him intimately, seen him in his most primal and vulnerable states, got peeks into his mental framework during pillowtalk– but it wasn’t enough to cross the threshold of “being just friends.”

But when he’s calling you in the middle of the night after a long study session to invite you over, are you really just friends? When he’s fucking you from behind with a hand clamped over your mouth so your moans don’t wake up the rest of his family, can you actually be “just friends?”

Never has Jay invited you over for the sake of just talking and hanging out. It’s always as a means of stress relief, taking out all his frustration into your hole when he can’t find joy in his favorite hobby. Even today– when he invites you over in the late afternoon when the sun is gradually setting, filling his room in a warm orange glow rather than waiting until the cover of twilight.

“What took you so long to get here?” Jay mumbles between placing kisses on your neck once he gets you to his room, hands roaming your body like he had already forgotten what you felt like beneath his palms.

“Traffic. Everyone’s getting off work at this hour.” You reply softly, letting your head fall back to give him more access to the stretch of skin his lips occupied.

Walking you backwards until your knees hit his bed frame, Jay ushers you onto the bed without pulling away from you. Lips sealing yours, there’s no time for you to voice any complaints about how fast he moves.

His tongue coaxes your lips into parting for him, meeting yours and sliding up against it in the most salacious of dances. Tongue slithering past your parted lips, it moves in tandem with yours once they meet; lewdly rubbing up against each other until you have saliva spilling past the corners of your mouth.

So caught up in the heat of the heated lip lock, you barely even realize that you’ve started grinding against the growing bulge in Jay’s pants. The friction is nowhere near enough but it’s addictive, you can’t stop. His hands grabbing onto your hips in an attempt to still you isn’t enough to get you to stop squirming, seeking out a means of extinguishing the heat that had been steadily building in your core the moment he kissed you.

“If you want me, say you want me.” Jay gently chides you, the words dancing across your lips.

Funny, you’ve said something along the same lines to him in the past when discussing the nature of your relationship. But there’s no time to dwell on the blurred boundaries of your so-called friendship when your mind is clouded with lust, only interested in getting down to the real reason you were in his bed in the first place.

“I didn’t know you liked reassurance.” You taunt him with a small scoff.

Your fingers find the hem of the loose fitting t-shirt he wears, tugging at it and silently demanding it come off. You crave the feeling of Jay’s skin on yours because it’s the most warmth and comfort you’ll ever receive from him. Reaching for the back of his shirt’s neckline, the fabric comes off with minimal effort. Giving you no time to ogle at the lean muscle of his frame, Jay makes quick work of your top; eager hands palming your breasts through your bra.

It’s moments like these where you finally get some sort of reassurance that Jay feels something toward you—even if it’s just lust— and every touch is filled with so much longing, so much passion. The desire is almost enough to make you believe that he sincerely wanted you in more than just a physical way. His hands reach under your back, your body arching to make it easier for him to remove your bra before you toss the wired fabric off to the side.

Jay’s lips are on yours again, this time each tender kiss serves as a distraction for him to strip you out of the rest of your clothes. As soon as you’re completely nude, his mouth no longer occupies yours and ghosts along your jaw; going down your neck to nip the skin hard enough to make you wince but not leave a mark. From your neck to your chest, his lips trail lower and lower until you see him comfortably settled between your thighs.

Hooking his arms around each of your thighs, he pulls you closer to him; your hips coming off the mattress and your center perfectly aligned with his lips. It’s always the same song and dance with Jay– and he’s seen you naked on so many occasions– but you never stop feeling shy whenever he goes down on you. The fluttery kisses on your inner thigh. The focused expression that shrouds his features. The way his hips buck into the mattress to get some relief from the pressure building in his pants. It all makes your heart tremble with excitement, much like the way the first swipe of his tongue on your pussy makes your legs tremble.

Treading softly on your body, Jay savors the time spent between your legs. His tongue traces out the letters of an apology to you, hoping that you could decipher the message because God knows that he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words to you. Stringing you along like this was never his intention, but the fact you stay gives him no real urgency to break things off. How good he feels while lying with you is more than enough to cast away any guilt he feels about keeping two different people on each of his arms to fulfill different needs. Seeing how his initially one-sided relationship with Shelly was able to bloom into a connection that helped him grow as a person, maybe if circumstances had been slightly different, your relationship with him would’ve developed the same way.

But instead, you’re confined to a timeline where Shelly is the one to speak to Jay’s heart and you’re the one who can only communicate with him via body language.

For all of the emotional nurturing and comfort that Jay can’t provide to you as a person, his warm tongue is more than happy to deliver it to your pussy. Languid strokes that lap at your folds that lead to your clit; leaving no part of you untouched. As good as it feels for you, the thick stripes licked over your folds are a mere warm up for Jay. He starts out so slow and lazy with his mouth, the actions only fanning the flames of your arousal rather than dousing them. It’s only when he gets you to the point of dripping all over his sheets and feeling like your cunt had its own pulse, he amps up the actions.

Swollen pearl throbbing with need, you start to fuss and your fingers seek out Jay’s hair; pulling on the inky locks to get him to keep going. Though he wants to poke fun at your desperation, he moves where you need him, encasing your clit between his pouty lips and sucking with an intensity that he knows you can’t resist. He knows he’s done it right when you start bucking against his face and cause your juices to smear all over the lower half.

Jay spends nearly an hour eating you out; caught in a loop of licking up all the nectar that seeped out of you while also causing you to leak out more. He gets you so close to climax, only to retreat and leave bite marks on your inner thigh; the tiny jolt of pain sending your senses in a frenzy.

“Why are you being such an asshole today?” You groan, your voice coming out weary and shaky. “Let me cum.”

“Last time I saw you, you said something about not spending enough time together.” Jay says after pulling away from you, tongue poking out to run over his lips and clear them of any of your lingering juices.

“You’re too smart to pretend that you don’t know what I meant.” You respond in an almost dejected tone before it seems like something snaps in you and you’re put back into a state of indifference. “Whatever, just fuck me.”

Maybe if he was in a different state of mind, Jay would have tried harder to think about what your words truly meant. However, when he’s been ignoring his own arousal for the sake of pleasing you for so long, he isn’t very receptive to your evasive response.

Nimble fingers undoing the drawstring of his joggers and shimmying out them, his boxers come off as well and are haphazardly kicked off. His cock springs free, long and hard and already leaking pre-cum. It’s not often that you see Jay like this– looming over you, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself above you with the tip of his cock dragging along your folds. He slides his cock back and forth over your slick cunt instead of rushing to put it in; his precum dribbling down and making everything messier. Looking up at him through your lashes while his eyes were fixed on the sight of his cock sliding across your slickness, you remember why you rarely took him in missionary.

Jay was breathtakingly handsome whenever he was fully engrossed in something– fucking you was no different. Just looking at him while he humps against your pussy, his dick catching on your clit every so often has your neglected hole clenching in anticipation of being filled. When the underside of his shaft is thoroughly coated in your arousal and your clit is sensitive to direct contact, no matter how light the touch is, Jay finally guides his cock into you.

“Fuck, that’s good.” He hisses lowly, a shuddering breath escaping him while he watches your tight hole greedily sucking in the rest of his length after breaching your entrance. “So…fucking…wet.” He pants, head falling forward slightly as he squeezes his eyes shut; the sight of his shaft disappearing within the heat of your cunt becomes too stimulating to handle. Your walls stretch to accommodate his dick as he buries it inch by inch.

Pushing his hips forward until his full balls are pressed against the curve of your ass, you and Jay moan in unison as he bottoms out within you. No amount of sex with Jay could fix the hole in your heart that he had left, but being full of his thick cock like this almost makes the heartache worth it.

You rarely see eye to eye with Jay on matters pertaining to emotions. However, it goes without saying that both of you wish you time would stop whenever he was balls deep in your juicy cunt. After getting over the initial bliss of being inside you, Jay slams his cock in deep; making your breath get caught in your throat from the force. The little choked out noise you make causes his eyes to flit to your face, concerned that he had hurt you but as soon as he does that, he regrets it. Pleasure is written all over your face and it has his cock throbbing inside of you, encouraging him to keep pumping his dick into your heat. And soon, he’s fucking into deep spot in your pussy that has your eyes rolling back and grabbing onto his biceps for any means of keeping you grounded.

“Oooh, fuck. Right there, don’t stop.” You plead, your voice sounding foreign to you as it comes out whiny and prurient.

You know he won’t stop. His hips are still into yours like a dog in heat, focused on his own ecstasy that merely happens to be elevating yours. He was giving you these brutal strokes filled with so much greed, your high is within reach. It’s embarrassing how sensitive you are after being edged for so long. Any and every instance of physical contact has you moaning, but it’s the hard and urgent manner that Jay pumps his dick into you that makes you cry out the loudest; as well as making your wet cunt lewdly squelch.

“You’re getting too loud.” He scolds you, meanly grinding into you and teasing your sweet spot with each snap of his hips.

“No one’s even home.” You whine as you let Jay fold you in half, pushing your thighs back as far as they’ll go so your knees are lined up with your shoulders.

“Don’t get into the habit of being this noisy.” He grunts, pressing you in half and slinging your legs over his shoulders.

For all the noise you can’t make while in this new position, it has your pussy clenching around him and of course, the excessive tightness has him fucking you harder to counteract your walls trying to keep him in place. Those deep, deep strokes hit you in all the right ways.

Leaning further down, keeping your body pinned under his weight, he presses his mouth to yours. His lips are soft, the taste of you lingering on them. For how erratically Jay’s hips move as they pummel into you, he manages to keep his kisses relatively tame; his tongue is precise and intentional with every move against yours. The feverish moans and pants that you eat up let you know how good he’s feeling. How much he craves this release. It’s just one of the few things you have in common with one another.

“I’m really fucking close.” Jay whispers against your lips, fucking you with all the pent up frustration he stored up while eating you out. “Are you?”

He speaks those words so quietly, they barely pull you out of the lust induced trance you’ve been under. The heat that’s been blossoming in the pit of your stomach was starting to spread throughout the rest of your body, making you forget how excruciating it was to be in this folded position.

“Y-yeah.” You weakly mumble, biting your lip.

That’s all Jay needs to hear before giving you these calculated thrusts right into your sweet spot; repeatedly hitting the bundle of nerves. Pink cheeks, jaw tense, eyelashes fluttering – they all make up the feverish look on his face. He’s impossibly close to finish, gritting his teeth as he keeps ramming his dick into the spot within you that makes your toes curl. He keeps at it, trying so hard not to cum before you so he can feel your walls milk him for all its worth when he reaches his peak.

With the repeated stimulation of your sweet spot, it doesn’t take much to get you right on the edge. Deep, deep strokes hit you perfectly and just in– one, two, three sharp thrusts– you’re hurtling to your orgasm.

You have to bite Jay’s shoulder to stop yourself from moaning so loudly as your pussy clenches around him, an obscene amount of your juices trickling down his shaft when you cum. Not too far behind you, Jay brutalizes your sensitive, quivering walls until he shoots his load deep into you. The warmth rushing your insides makes you shudder, but it’s nothing compared to the dull ache you feel when he pulls out of your still spasming cunt.

There’s no time to lay around together after such an intense finish; his mom would be home soon and you both knew that. Immediately after cleaning up, Jay sees you out; but the air is thick as the two of you linger at the front door step.

“Why are you just staring at me like that?” You ask after an uncomfortable stretch of silence, not wanting to leave on such a strange note.

“I…don’t want to say ‘bye’ yet.” He murmurs, sheepishly rubbing at the nape of his neck.

There’s a first for everything, it seems. Up until this point, Jay hadn’t been too keen on being alone with you for too long. Or at least, he had behaved that way. Getting into his mind and deciphering his emotions had never been your strong suit– if it was, you’d probably be dating him and not just hooking up.

“But you don’t wanna just hang out with me, right?” You retort with a bitter laugh before turning away from him. “I’ll see you later.”

You don’t make it very far before Jay catches your wrist, pulling you back toward him. A few more seconds of silence ensue while he stares at you. Though it’s not clear what’s on his mind, it’s obvious to you that he wants to say something. His lips quiver, mouthing the beginnings of sentences but nothing ever comes out as you impatiently wait for him to speak. The moment you open your mouth to berate him and tell him to get on with it, his hands are cupping your face then he’s leaning in down to press his lips on yours; eating up all the words you were planning on hurling at him.

Time just moves differently whenever you’re with Jay. For you, it always feels like it’s not enough. And from his perspective, it swings too wildly between seeming like an eternity and being an ephemeral moment. Despite not knowing the exact number of minutes that pass when he’s kissing you, it’s long enough for his mother of all people to spot the two of you locking lips.

When you part, she’s nowhere to be seen, leaving you and Jay clueless that someone had seen you two together. After Jay gets his kiss, he seems content with finally letting you go– so you do without hesitation. You leave him to wrestle with his own moral compass and feelings he can’t share with anyone else but you; if he had ever found it in him to be more candid about his emotions.

Until then, you would simply stand beside him as his friend in public; picking apart his shortcomings until being “just friends” became more appealing than being his lover. But while in private, the hedonist in you would enjoy the way he arranged your guts.

#windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #jay jo smut #jay jo x reader #jay jo scenarios #junggunz.txt

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rradio-static · 2 months

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𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴, sfw + nsfw

SFW;

˚ ༘♡ alastor would be a very private man about his relationship, obviously he wouldn’t keep you a secret but he doesn’t brag about his darling that often, maybe if he’s missing you he would.

although when he is alone with you, i imagine he is very clingy and cuddly. if you’d had a stressful day he would offer a massage or he would play with your hair

he takes pride in his neatness and would most definitely do all the “women” chores, leaving you to lazily stay in bed while he cleans around, jazz music playing softly in the background.

if you weren’t a cannibal, i’m sorry but he would one hundred percent cook you human meat and tell you it was steak or something, and if you enjoyed it he’d say something along the lines of, “did you enjoy that darling, hm? you should have done seen as it was the remains of that very god forsaken demon who was admiring you earlier.”

breakfast in bed every morning, dinner cooked for you every noon. he just loves making sure his dear is well fed and looked out for.

he’d ask you for a dance, wether it’s out at a restaurant on a date or just in the comfort of your own room. he’d turn on the music and spin you around until your dizzy and seeing stars. “would you care to join me, mon chèri?”

even though he hates people touching his ears, he’d let you. he’d be laid between your legs and you scratch and play with them. as he’s purring beneath you he’d mumble out sweet nothings and eventually fall asleep, exhausted as he rarely rests.

if he saw another demon even looking at you he wouldn’t hesitate to ask your permission to slaughter them. if you said no he’d probably go back later and do it anyway. if it’s someone who’s much powerful then him (eg. luci) he’d probably whisk you away after death staring them and silencing them with his words, showing your his only.

NSFW;

whilst doing broadcasts, he’d have you beneath the table. gently tugging your hair to make you gag down deeper on his cock, giving him some relief if he’s stressed. usually men would crumble under this type of touch, but he remained normal. not even stuttering once. obviously underneath he’d be tensing up, trying extremely hard not to let out a groan.

he loves biting or scratching you, watching the blood trickle down before he goes back and licks it up. he’d only do this with your consent as he was raised a gentleman, and wouldn’t want to intentionally hurt you in any way.

is very rough with you but if you even let out a single noise of discomfort he’s stop almost immediately and make sure you were okay. loves pounding you into the mattress while you whimper and moan beneath him, his cock hitting your walls just right.

if you ever got into an argument with him he knew how to make you back down, he’d plant a sudden kiss to you. then grab your face and pull you back for a more intense one, his cold hands rising up your thigh to your cunt. “that’s better darling, i like it better when i’m making you moan my name, not shout it.”

he is the BEST at eating you out, having a long tongue makes it easier for him to lick your slit, before taking his tongue into your wet cunt. he’d murmur things whilst inside you, making you twitch in response. likes it better giving then receiving. loves your taste.

obviously would love to hear your noises and whimpers, but if the other hotel residents are awake he’d place his two fingers into your mouth as he thrusted into you. “hush my dear, i might have to gag you if you can’t keep yourself quiet.”

has a size kink, and a very big cock. whilst pushing himself into you, he’d praise you for being able to take it. “just like that, good girl.. take it all. you can take it.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcannons #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin headcanons #alastor hazbin headcannons

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georgeclarkesgf · 17 days

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forgetful | george clarke

the minute george stepped into the flat, he knew something was off.

"y/n? you here?" walking further into the flat, he found y/n in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea, "hey, sorry i'm back so late. we missed t-"

"don't. i can't believe you. all i asked was that you not plan to film today and i wake up to a message telling me you've gone to film a video for arthur. do you even know why i asked you to stay home today?"

he was trying to remember, really he was. but his mind was blank and the guilt began to seep in, only just noticing the tears that left stains on her cheeks.

"no. of course you don't. my parents are in town george. i planned a nice lunch, maybe go on a walk, come back to the flat for a few drinks, but all that went to shit because you left to film a stupid video and then ignored my messages all day. you know how important it is to me that you get along with my parents so having to cancel on them last minute because you weren't even here was not something i wanted to have to do." the tears in her eyes were threatening to fall again, hating how needy and pathetic she sounded.

"we can sti-" george tried, again quickly being shut down.

"no george, i'm mad at you. you don't get to say it'll be alright and that we can still do something. we're not playing happy families. you've hurt me. when we sort this out, then we organise something else."

now the guilt was in full swing and he immediately started to think of ways he could make it up to her, knowing it would take a lot of grovelling to get back onto her good side.

"i'm going to bed, i love you." a soft kiss being placed on his lips.

"i love you too." slight relief evident on his face, knowing she'll never not say 'i love you', even during an argument.

she rounded the kitchen island, starting to make her way to his room and get ready for bed. george watched as she closed the door, still stood in the kitchen, contemplating whether to follow her or give her some space.

he decided on the latter.

--------

it was nearing midnight when george decided he needed some sleep, and the dip in the bed as he got comfortable was enough to wake y/n, a groan leaving her lips.

"sorry. i didn't mean to wake you," she let out an agitated hum of acknowledgement and rolled over, curling into george's side, unable to resist the heat his body always provided, "still mad at me?"

"yep." she responded, accentuating the 'p'.

"okay. can we talk about it?"

"i've said my peace. you go."

"i really am sorry sweetheart, i feel awful," her nails were running along the lines and dips of his stomach, a habit he'd grown accustomed to over the several months they'd been together, "the video was planned ages ago and i didn't even realise the dates clashed. when you reminded me of 'that thing' that was happening today i thought you meant filming. i promise to make it up to you. and your parents. please say they don't hate me."

george hoped it was enough, not that he wouldn't do anything she asked to get her to forgive him, but he couldn't stand the thought of her staying mad at him.

in y/n's head, he was forgiven. during her time alone, she realised she didn't even give him a chance to explain before locking herself in his room for the rest of the night.

"i'm sorry too," george was slightly taken aback by this, unsure what she was apologising for, "i shouldn't have stormed off like that. not even letting you speak before i disappeared all night. and my parents don't hate you. we can do dinner tomorrow if that's okay with you?"

"that's more than okay. i have my whole day free to spend with you and them. we can do whatever you guys want. i love you."

"i love you. so much. even if you are forgetful."

and george stuck to his promise. safe to say y/n's parents like george more than her.

a/n have this as an 'i'm sorry i haven't posted in a while present' <3

#george clarke #george clarkey #arthurtv #chaoscrew #sidemen #arthur hill #tiktok #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #blurbs #george clarkey imagines #george clarke imagines #blurb #youtube #youtuber imagine #youtuber x reader #youtuber imagines #george clarkey imagine #george clarke imagine

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beer-anon · 10 months

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Clingy and relentless

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

Prologue can be read but doesn't have to be. Background: You're the Moon Hashira

NB: I moved account to @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi

Tags: drunk sex, mild coercion?, body worship, minor voice kink, porn with plot (?)

Word count: 4k

I promised to tag you long time ago, but I never got around to finishing/posting so here it is @crimsonkenjii-writes

The izakaya was rowdy, the ‘Welcome, new Hashira!’ party was in full swing. You’d been pulled along by an excited Mitsuri, Uzui pushing your smaller figure forward. The dubious seat of honor was between those two. Each egging you on to drink shot after shot.

Soon enough, it was getting too noisy and too energetic for you, so you’d excused yourself to get a little breather outside. You felt quite flushed, this being perhaps the second time you ever drank in your life. It was actually pretty surprising how well you held on.

Soft evening breeze cooled down your heated skin. You sighed in relief. You didn’t know how the Hashira managed to stay in their uniform and haori inside the hot pub. You had only ever worn your uniform, and even now, you’d discarded the jacket, leaving you in the white button-up and dark pants. Despite that, you had to cool down.

The moon was bright in the night sky, and if you hadn’t been in a lit village, you would see the stars too. The whole night was beautiful.

You wanted to get lost in it, to forget about the guilt weighing you down, and most of all, you wanted to belong. You wanted to be comforted and to feel safe. To take a deep breath into your lungs unobstructed, without the worries pressing down on your chest.

A loud laughter echoed from the inside. You figured your mini pity party should be over. You needed to return before someone came out to drag you in.

The short time you were gone saw some seating changes. Rengoku sat in your spot next to Uzui now, and the only two free seats were next to Kocho. It would be weird to sit one seat away from her, so you took the one right by her.

“Ah, [L/n]-san, nice of you to join me,” her smile seemed dim compared to before. Maybe the alcohol had something to do with it. “You should drink some water too. The sake seems extra strong today.”

You took her advice and the two of you started talking about poisons. You used to be interested in it when you were younger due to your true crime obsession.

A few minutes passed by when the Water Pillar took up the seat next to you. You glanced at him. His usually unreadable face was a little flushed. How much had he drunk?

“Ara, ara, Tomioka-san, you’re quite the light-weight, aren’t you?”

His lips pressed together in a tight line and the corners were a little downturned. It was the biggest reaction he gave the whole day.

“Uhm, Kocho-san, perhaps you shouldn’t make fun of Tomioka-san,” you intervened. His dark blue eyes shot to you in surprise, but you weren’t looking at him. You were frowning at Kocho.

And just like that, you became on her hit list for teasing. “Oh my, [L/n]-san, I never took you to be friendless too~”

The hell? That hit home. She didn’t have to say it out loud though.

You pointedly turned away from her and leaned closer to Tomioka. “I heard you created a new breathing form, right? That sounds amazing. Tell me more about it, please.”

His eyes darted behind you before his full attention was yours. The flush on his cheeks was worse than before. Did he drink another shot while you weren’t looking?

The rest of the night was spent quietly talking at the edge of the party. You switched to first names somewhen along the way. Giyuu was very nice, and it seemed the alcohol loosened his tense mask a lot. Your thighs touched and you sat closer than appropriate perhaps, but his voice was so pleasant and low that you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

At the end of the night, it fell on you to escort the woozy Water Hashira home. Since your home was much closer, you decided that he would be better off sleeping at yours - the Moon Estate.

It wasn’t much of an estate and more of a family house. It used to belong to a Hashira fifty years ago but fell into disrepair since. Ubuyashiki honored your request for something smaller - perhaps he really cared…

(And you betrayed that trust-

Sit with me.

-like the fraud you were.)

The house was hastily repaired and prepared for you. Unlike the Wind estate or Flame estate with at least five workers each, your home had only one attendant - a quiet woman in her late forties named Sakura.

Your attendant was already asleep by the time the two of you stumbled through the gates. It was probably a good thing. If she saw the two ‘admirable’ Hashira struggling to support each other while drunk, she’d get a heart attack. To be fair, Giyuu was more of a lightweight than you so he was the one leaning on you really.

You sat him on the engawa to take off his shoes - no need to make Sakura angry by tracking dust and mud in the house - but he swayed and fell back to lay there instead.

“Mhmm, your bed i’nt comfy,” he mumbled. “Should’ve gon’ to m’ home. M’ futon is the best.”

You hummed in agreement to entertain his thoughts. After slipping off your shoes as well, you dragged him onto the wooden floor properly and urged him to get up, much to his protest.

The way he acted and talked was endearing, until you had to wrestle with him to get him in the guest room and undressed out of his uniform. It was official. Tomioka Giyuu, the great Water Hashira, turned into a clingy baby when drunk. It took ten minutes to pry his sleepy death grip on you off so you could go to your own room.

You really hoped he didn’t remember most of it. You were sure he would be embarrassed.

✿ ✿ ✿

Giyuu remembered everything. Giyuu wasn’t the type to get black out drunk and forget. No, Giyuu was the type who lost his inhibitions, “Liquid Courage” living up to its name for him.

In the morning he laid in the guest futon for a while longer, thinking. The scent of you, despite the smell of izakaya and alcohol, was intoxicating. The warmth of your body was heavenly against his. He wondered how you tasted, how would it feel to kiss you, to devour you.

He wanted more, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. It��s been some time since he had to scratch that itch and he would make sure to make it worth it for you. The night, and morning after, would leave you breathless. He was confident in that - if you wanted him, that is.

And if it was good for you both, maybe more nights and mornings to follow.

The birds screaming outside for attention only made his throbbing headache worse.

The headache also gave him an idea though.

You didn’t seem to mind taking care of him while he was drunk. Maybe he could test out the waters while under the influence and if you didn’t want it, or him, he could blame it on the alcohol.

Mind made up, it was time to face the outside world.

✿ ✿ ✿

The next time the Hashira went together for a little drinking party was when Rengoku retired. His skirmish with Upper Three left him on a long road to recovery, which he planned to use to train up more young demon slayers in his stead. Everyone, except Muichiro, had a cup of sake in hand and was in a jolly mood. Some disciples of Rengoku were there as well, though they also didn’t have any alcohol. You sat next to Giyuu again, Shinobu on your other side, and the little squad was right next to him. It was strange seeing a demon in the middle of the party, but at least you weren’t in public. This time, you were at the Ubuyashiki estate.

“That’s really interesting. She just sleeps?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. Apparently, your promotion to Hashira happened just after the ‘trial’.

A loud laugh echoed from the other side of the room. Uzui was the source, as Rengoku’s stomach wound prohibited any sort of laughing, which had to be a bit painful. That man was made of sunshine and laughter. At this moment, he had a shit-eating grin on his face though.

“Yeah, she slept for two whole years while I was training under Urokodaki-san,” the boy with the hanafuda earrings, Tanjiro, said fondly while looking at his sister. She was staring at Mitsuri, and occasionally glanced at you, probably because Mitsuri braided your hair for the evening as well.

“I see. Urokodaki-san also trained Giyuu-san, right?” you turned your attention to him. His face was flushed with alcohol, his eyes bright as they met yours. A high-pitched noise left him, and it took a second to realize it was a whine. “Giyuu-san?”

His lips parted, and closed, before he said, “Yes, he did.”

Tanjiro giggled. You tilted your head to look at him with a confused frown. “Is something funny?”

The teen immediately tensed up and pressed his lips in a tight smile. “Nothing.” An obvious lie.

A tug on your sleeve distracted you. It was Nezuko, and her wide innocent eyes made you melt. “What is it, Nezuko-chan?”

She made some grumbling noises and gestures but you got the gist of it. She wanted you to braid her hair like Mitsuri’s, and yours.

“Alright,” you shuffled out of your pillow seat, a difficult motion in your yukata, and patted it. “Sit here. I’ll braid it for you.” You knelt behind her and started to part her hair into two sections. Two braids would be better. Her hair was thick.

Clothes rustled, and you glanced up to see Tanjiro staring intently at your hands as you worked. Giyuu got pushed out of his seat to let the young man watch but seemed fine with a cup of sake in his hand.

You felt… content. For once.

Much later, Giyuu leaned heavily against you. You took it as a sign to get up and guide him home. This time, his home was closer, and that’s where he guided you as you supported him.

“[Name], are we friends?”

You looked at him confusedly, “Yeah, I consider you a friend.”

“Good, b’cos Shinobu is always like ‘Aww, Tomioka-san, you have no friends! Tomioka-san~’ and it’s annoyin’,” he pouted, half hanging onto your figure as you trudged through the streets towards his estate. “Now I can tell her I have you, and when she says ‘Oh, but no one likes you Tomioka-saaan’ then I’ll tell her-” he hiccuped “- I’ll tell her you like me and that will show her!”

The flush on your face wasn’t to be blamed entirely on alcohol. At least it was dark enough that he couldn’t see.

He saw.

You said nothing as you dragged him through the gates. Giyuu continued his rambling as you forced him to take off his shoes before walking in.

You sat him down on the engawa and he lied down, much like last time you were helping his drunk ass into bed.

“Wai’, are we at your place again? Why ain’t we at mine?” he whined.

You snort in amusement. Giyuu truly was a baby drunk. You frowned. Your stupid sandal wasn’t coming off. Did you tie it too tightly?

“Hey… don’t ignore me,” he breathed against your ear sensually.

A shiver ran down your spine. When had he moved?! “Giyuu, the hell?” you flinched back with a deep blush. “You scared me.”

His pout was criminally adorable. “You were ignoring me.”

“I’m just getting my shoes off so we can go in. This stupid tie won’t budge though.” You went back to fighting your sandal.

Warmth enveloped you from all sides when he embraced you from behind. You tensed up but let him do as he wanted. His nimble fingers reached for the tie on your shoe and tugged it free in just a second.

He would never admit he re-tied it tight while you were distracted braiding Nezuko’s hair. His knots were the best, he knew.

Giyuu stayed glued to you for a few moments longer, breathing against your neck.

“Giyuu?” Goosebumps rose all along your skin. “Are you awake?”

He huffed. “Yeah.” The pressure eased and cold evening air stole all the body heat provided to you.

The both of you got to your feet, Giyuu more unsteady than you. He wavered and you immediately supported him. “Well, which way?”

The room he led you to smelled like him. There was a big futon already prepared on the tatami mats.

“Alright, this is your stop, buddy. Let me set you down. Which way to the guest room?”

Giyuu looked at you like you were stupid. “You’re staying here, with me.”

“I’m what?” You blinked. “You know what? I don’t really care at this point. I’m too tired to search for it by myself and I don’t wanna wake up your attendants.”

You left him to steady himself and took off your outer yukata. The white juban was staying on though, despite being tied a bit too tight. You couldn’t risk anything with how clingy Giyuu was. With that, you crawled into his futon, leaving enough space for him to comfortably rest in.

It was silent for a little while.

You heard the rustling of fabric before it fell to the ground. He only wore a yukata before, so if some cloth fell, he had to be naked right now.

“My eyes might be closed, but, please, put your clothes back on…” Your face felt heated and you tried not to think how he looked naked. Your throat felt dry.

Two uneven strides, then: “I want your attention, [Name]...” He ignored your command.

You kept your eyes closed as you felt the covers move. “You have my attention.”

“Open your eyes.”

“No.”

A finger poked your shoulder. “[Name]...”

“No.”

You turned so your back faced him. You thought that was the end of it, but then you felt his body slide against yours, the heat scorching against the thin fabric covering you.

“What- on- Earth- are you doing right now?” You ground out. You were getting a little annoyed. You were horny, frustrated and a little under the influence of the consumed sake and you were not having it with Giyuu.

“‘m huggin’ you, whaddya think?” he mumbled. The arm he draped over you pulled you closer. You squirmed a little. His hand slid up and cupped your breast.

“Alright, that’s it! You have my attention now,” you huffed and pulled at the hand to stop touching your chest. It didn’t budge, it just squeezed a little. You wiggled and fidgeted, trying to get loose when your butt brushed against something that was not his leg. You froze.

Giyuu’s breath hitched. “Baby…”

His grip lost its strength so you turned around to face him. Soft moonlight was enough to see his flushed face.

“I could kiss you right now…”

“Giyuu… You’re drunk,” you pressed your lips in a tight line. You yourself felt much more sober, yet intoxicated at the same time.

If the walk home helped or not was anyone’s guess, but he rolled over to pin you to the futon. The blanket slid down his back to rest at his hips. You practically stopped breathing and were forcing your eyes to remain on his own. You couldn’t glance down right now.

“I could kiss you right now,” he repeated. “...maybe add a little tongue…” Your face had to be as flushed as his. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Giyuu…” Protests died in your throat a miserable death when he leaned closer. His breath smelled like sake.

“Give me you body… your love… your lips.” The words entranced you. The pace and anticipation were killing you. You never knew Giyuu knew how to be soft, how to express himself in such a way. “You’re so beautiful.” The kiss was barely there, yet it sent a shiver down your spine.

You sighed against his lips as if in relief, unsaid tension released, and all thoughts left your head.

He rolled you both so you were under him, shifting so only one of his arms supported his weight off of you. The hard-on you discovered a few moments ago pressed against your stomach. His free hand pulled a few stray hair strands behind your ear and lingered there as he stared at you.

Every second stretched out into infinity.

Hesitantly, your hands trailed up his bare sides. A violent shiver was your reward. “Baby…” he breathed out harshly.

You remained silent and traced gentle and winding lines across his chest with your nails.

Giyuu let out a strangled moan. “...your touch…” He didn’t elaborate but swooped down for another kiss, this one more insistent and deeper. A scorching heat built up inside of you. “Intoxicating. You’re like- a drug… my drug…”

The uncharacteristic possessiveness drove you nearly feral with need. “Giyuu, please…”

Your plea was rewarded with a shaky breath from him. He slowly trailed his way down to your neck with his lips, feather-light and teasing. He kissed your pulse point.

“Plea-Ah!”

He nibbled on the vulnerable flesh while humming in pleasure. The low vibrations of his voice made goosebumps spread all over you.

“More… Stop teasing,” you whined. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were dizzy from alcohol or his touch. Your hands gripped at the futon in an effort to ground you.

Giyuu must have felt merciful, as his sweet worship ran down your body in slow motions. His hands joined in the silent conquest, broken only by his and your shaky breaths. He untied your juban easily - How did he do that? You were sure the knot was too tight - and pulled it open as he went lower and lower.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone as well and you were as bare as him. He took a deep Breath and dove in with the hunger of a starving man.

His hands reached up to hold your thighs apart, giving him access to your most sensitive spot. His tongue expertly flicked and teased at your clit. He continued his gorging, building up a rhythm that drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you were about to cum, he moved his tongue down to lap at your entrance. You whined his name at the ruined orgasm, frustrated. Giyuu didn’t care and continued his assault of your pussy lips, loud slurps and licks echoing in his room.

He added a thumb into the mix to stimulate your clit again. A few light circular motions and you were at the brink again. Just a little more- just a second-

-and you were lost. The intensity of the pleasure pulsing from your pussy was all you could focus on as you trembled from head to toe. Your chest heaved with deep breaths. He continued to lick you softly, clearly still lost in the taste.

“Hmm, delicious…” He licked his lips, before he realized what he just said. “Oh no, I’m starting to sound like Rengoku right now.” His horrified expression, drunken flush on his cheeks, face half wet with your pussy juices, everything about this situation was hilarious. You started to laugh. “Babyyy,” he whined quietly.

“Sorry,” you giggled breathlessly.

Giyuu crawled up your body with a pout, holding eye contact, his hips slotting between your thighs easily. “As you should be.” His cock slid over your lower lips easily, wetly humping against you and letting you feel just how massive he was. “Can I…?”

Instead of answering, you reached down to position his tip at your entrance. He got the message and started to press in, releasing a long shaky groan. His eyes became shiny, too shiny, while he stared into your soul.

You clenched your teeth to stop any noise from spilling past your lips. He filled you in all the right places, the stretch burning slightly. You hadn’t truly realized his size until he fully slid in, pressing against your cervix harshly. Your mouth opened in a silent scream at that, a full body twitch overtaking you, still maintaining eye contact as tears gathered at your lash line.

“Don’t… don’t look… babe…” he exhaled harshly in pleasure, eyes tightly clenched shut and tears finally falling down his face. Your pussy was heavenly warm and snug around his cock. “Don’t look at me.”

You’d always been a little rebellious. Your eyes remained open, short nails digging into his biceps and you urged him on with a low grind of your hips against his. The hitch in his breath gave away his desperation.

The first stroke was drawn-out, Giyuu struggling to breathe properly at the feeling. However it wasn’t long until the pace became a harmonic gooey pat-pat-pat of pleasure.

“Fuck, Giyuu…” you lost your composure and stopped holding back your noises, sleeping attendants be damned. Every time he bottomed out, he brushed against your clit harshly and his tip smooched the entrance to your womb. It sent shocks through your body, centering in your stomach like a tight knot.

He groaned breathlessly as your walls tightened around him gradually. “So- fucking- perfect- Ah!” The pulsing around his cock was almost mind-numbing. Tears still continued to fall from his eyes slowly, the pleasure overwhelming his drunken body. The drops fell onto your own chest, neck and face with his motions, like the first dew in spring.

Giyuu opened his eyes to watch your face as you got lost in ecstasy. He suddenly gripped your legs and nearly folded you in half. The new position allowed him to thrust against something that made you cry out at first contact. Your hands tried to find purchase in the futon again.

“Y’ like tha’? Like me makin’ a mess of you-?”

Moans were all your throat could produce as an answer.

The heat shared between the two of you built and built, like a simmering pot left unattended, ready to burst at any second.

His pace grew sloppy and uneven, yet it offered no mercy on your puffy pussy, bullying any semblance of sanity right out of your mind. Giyuu seemed to be losing his strength. He leaned down, his body dwarfing yours, and supported his weight on his forearms above your shoulders. He panted and whined right into your ear, the sounds sending electric shocks of pleasure right to the still-tightening knot in your belly.

“Ngh- fuck- ‘m close-!” he grunted, rolling his hips, more grinding than thrusting now. The stimulation on your nub in this position was unreal.

You thought you would explode, but instead went out with a whimper. Eyes unseeing, ears ringing, thighs quivering, you lost yourself in the kaleidoscope of pleasure rolling through your body.

Giyuu suddenly slammed into you with the power of a tsunami, sending another shock through your body. You could scarcely breathe - was it just another wave or was it another orgasm entirely?

Twice more did he strike just as forcefully before he released a shaky moan, hilting as far as he could. His breath stuttered. Hot spurts of cum started flooding your pussy in the rhythm of his erratic heart. It dripped around his length and out of your ruined hole. He continued rutting into you, as if to fuck his semen deeper into you.

He had ruined you, ruined you for any other man.

You keened like a wounded animal when he finally pulled out slowly, your gummy walls scraped raw from his cock. Like a broken dam, his cum leaked out of your pulsing pussy.

He rolled over with a relieved sigh. You could finally unwind from the near-impossible fold he had you in. There was a slight ache in the small of your back, but a good night sleep could fix that… probably. If not, you could always demand a massage.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Giyuu demanded in a soft whisper after he caught his breath, pulling you close.

Your face was smushed against his collarbone but you figured he would let up once he fell asleep.

He kissed the crown of your head tenderly. “Never leavin’ me. Not allowed.”

You could hardly protest, as tired as you were from your activities.

“Please… date me…” he mumbled. Right after, soft breathing indicated he passed out.

You smiled tiredly. “What an impossible man… Not even awake to hear my answer…”

✿ ✿ ✿

Will be cross-posted on AO3 soon

I'm also writing a bonus scene / part 2 but idk when it'll be done

Next up: Obanai

#smut #tomioka giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tomioka giyuu x reader #tomioka giyuu smut #tomioka giyu #tomioka giyu x reader

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foodsies4me · 3 months

Text

AWG but Alec has a warlock mark

Tagging @ariella9melody and @buglersholiday because you both asked for this prompt that ended up in Cat's POV because the majority of Alec's POV would have been a mixture of "don't speak to Magnus Bane", "don't speak of Magnus Bane" and "don't tell Catarina about Magnus Bane"

Catarina stares at the young teenager, barely more than a child, in front of her. She takes in the nervous way he’s clenching and unclenching his fingers, his eyes darting every so often to a smiling Magnus, who is discussing some last-minute details with Elder Musa.

The boy is clearly uncomfortable with Magnus being there and Catarina is still trying to figure out if that’s due to his parents or something else. She doesn't think it's the usual shadowhunter bigotry, though, which is a relief because she wouldn’t want him to fight to overcome self-hatred on top of everything he already has on his plate.

“So, Alec,” she says, “- are you fine with me calling you that? Or do you prefer something else?”

“Alec is fine,” he nods, eyes darting over to a slowly approaching Ragnor. “But - uh, I thought you were sending me back to the institute, so,” another look sent Magnus’ way and a sigh of relief when he leaves, “Why am I here?”

“I’ll make a portal for you,” Catarina reassures, trying not to scare the young teenager away or make him think they’re keeping him captive, “But you’re here so we can schedule a training regimen for you that wouldn’t interrupt your shadowhunter duties.”

Catarina tries to keep her voice even as she says this, trying to ignore the same impulse that had pushed several of the Elders to mention the word ‘kidnapping’ in more than a joking manner. Because it wasn’t enough for Alec to be in an immense amount of danger just by existing. No, the Lightwoods also had the fantastic idea of letting a thirteen-year-old patrol.

Alec furrows his eyebrows together, “Why?”

“To teach you how to control your magic,” Catarina says, confused by Alec’s sudden confusion. He had been the one to seek her out, after all, panic and fear were visible in every line of his body when he asked her for help because his glamour runes refused to work any longer.

Catarina had been confused at first, wariness and compassion in equal measure had put her on high alert, her magic scouring her surroundings for any other angelic signatures, which led to her only catching half of Alec’s explanation.

That confusion had faded the moment Alec had raised his shirt and twisted around to reveal white, opalescent scales that gathered into small diamond-like shapes along his spine. A warlock mark.

Catarina had been quick to contact Magnus and the other Elders despite the panicked request she keeps this between them. Something like a shadowhunter-born warlock, one that could bear runes unlike Tessa, was not something she would have been able to keep to herself. Not when that very fact put Alec into a world of danger.

Still, it had taken her nearly an hour to get Alec’s okay. The promise of blood oaths that would prevent her and the Elders from sharing the information with anyone else enough to finally convince him.

That's how they ended up in their current situation, though, Catarina is starting to realize there was some miscommunication somewhere down the line if Alec is asking her why she would help him train his magic.

“But you glamoured the…my back,” Alec says, eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “That’s all I needed.”

Catarina gentles her voice, “Untrained magic is dangerous magic,” she says, repeating the sentence her own teacher had installed into her at a young age.

Alec somehow looks even more confused.“But I don’t have magic,” he corrects, breaking his parade’s rest to scratch at a spot over his chest. “I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if I had.”

“Maybe it’s weaker because of your angelic blood,” Catarina muses, walking over to her couch and inviting him over. “But I can assure you, you do.”

Alec presses his lips together, “I don’t want to be a bother,” he says, sounding old and painfully young all at once. “You mentioned you’re a nurse and I don’t want to take up your free time to accommodate my schedule.”

There’s something infuriatingly adult in the way he speaks, a maturity that comes from being forced to grow up past your age. Then again, she thinks sardonically, being used like the Nephilim equivalent of canon fodder will do that to you.

Seriously, a thirteen-year-old patrolling. Most warlocks wouldn’t let their children or apprentices brew a harmless beginner's potion by themselves at that age.

“I’m sure we can figure out something that would work out for the both of us,” she says, conjuring a pen and a notepad that she holds out to him. “Now, what about you write down your schedule and I write mine down.”

Alec does as ordered and starts writing down his weekly schedule to her growing horror. Starting at half past five in the morning, Alec's days seem to stretch well until midnight on the nights that he isn't patrolling and that will just not stand.

"As a nurse, I'm obliged to tell you that the recommended amount of sleep for a child your age is eight to ten hours a day."

"I'm a shadowhunter, not a child," Alec says with an assertiveness that doesn't come from defensiveness, but from being told the same words over and over again. "And I think I'm finished."

Alec hands her the schedule and Catarina tries to read the different categories Alec has written down: training, trainees, paperwork, Max and Leo, archery practice, patrol, sparring with Jace, sword practice, studying, rune practice, and story time.

"Training and trainees?" she asks, wondering what the difference is between both categories.

"Training is for Jace, my parabatai, Izzy, my sister, and I. The trainees are what we call my little brother and his best friend, they just turned three and are learning their basic forms. I'm helping them."

Catarina nods to show she understands. She supposes she can't fault Alec for wanting to be a good brother and help his little brother with his training, even if the thought of a three-year-old needing to learn how to fight is horrifying to even think of.

"And Max and Leo?"

"The New York Institute isn't a kid institute, so Max and Leo don't really have anyone to play with or keep them busy."

Catarina nods again to avoid asking about the amount of 'Max' as well as 'Max and Leo' time as well as 'Trainee' time that has been penciled in. Instead, she summons a cup of hot chocolate for Alec to have something to distract herself and him with. Then, after he's taken a few sips, eyes brightening in delight - and oh, she wouldn't have taken him for a sweet tooth - she asks about the strangest entry.

"What about paperwork? Is that similar to the studying and rune practice?"

Alec shakes his head, slowly lowering his cup on the coffee table, "No, it's just - when mom and dad are away to other institutes or in Idriss, I have to do the paperwork," he says with a careless shrug.

Catarina looks down at the schedule, looks back at the young teenager on her couch, and back at the schedule. Then, she bites down the question that is burning on her tongue.

After all, the answer is staring at her in the shape of a frankly ridiculous schedule that Alec wrote down without a second thought.

This means the story time entry, the entry that takes place twice a day at the same time every single day, right around what would be the usual bedtime for a three-year-old, is exactly what the word entails.

Catarina didn't think her personal opinion on Maryse and Robert Lightwood could sink any lower.

"Your studies are they with a teacher?" She asks, looking at the few spots those take. She wouldn't be able to ask him to do the paperwork he shouldn't be doing over at her apartment, but maybe she can convince him to take his studying sessions here.

"Not anymore," Alec says, "I just get the study material and the homework I need to finish. Why?"

"Well, then I suggest we broaden your studies during those hours," she says, circling the study hours on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday the days she usually has off. "That okay with you?"

Alec is still looking at her with a confused expression as if unsure of what to expect from her. "If that's easiest for you," he says, hand coming to scratch that spot on his chest again, "But I can adapt. I just have to be there for Max when he wakes up and when he goes to sleep, but the rest I can switch around."

Catarina had an inkling he would say something like this.

"Don't worry, this would work out the best for both of us," she reassures, hiding the anger behind a kind smile and another cup of hot chocolate. Then, she gives Alec his promised portal with a promise to see him on Thursday and dials a number she knows as well as her own.

Magnus picks up on the first ring. "Chocolate or alcohol?"

"Both. As well as a plan on how to murder the Lightwoods if you'd please."

"That bad?"

Catarina thinks of patrolling at thirteen years old, thinks of the hellish schedule and the fact that Alec is apparently single-handedly raising his little brother, is semi-raising his two other siblings as well, and all that on top of not quite running the institute in his parents' absence. .

"Worse."

#foodsies writes #prompt #this got longer than expected #stares at plotbunny #repeat after me: THIS WILL NOT TURN INTO A FULL FLEDGED FIC #also I am cackling how Alec got a different teacher in every AWG universe #AWG is Magnus and sometimes Ragnor #GWSR is Ragnor and sometimes Cat #and this is Cat

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anyasathenaeum · 11 months

Note

Hi! How are you? If it's alright with you, may I request a one-shot (or hcs, if you are more of comfortable) Vash x reader (female, if that's okay) where she is Meryl's sister and she is a total sweetheart who always helps Vash?

A/N: Hi Anon! Thanks for your request - I do try to keep the reader gender-neutral, just for inclusivity reasons :) Here are some headcanons for you!

You being Meryl's sibling can go one of two ways - either you're the older sibling, or you're the baby sibling.

If you're the older sibling, you're the one keeping Meryl's hotheaded self from getting herself into worse trouble than she already does, while if you're the baby, well, let's just say trouble happens even MORE

While Meryl can be more emotional and impulsive in her actions, you're known as the more caring and gentle of the two.

Vash meets you shortly after Meryl and Roberto find him outside Jenorah Rock, when you end up in the same town as your sibling purely by coincidence

"Meryl!" You'd exclaim as you noogie your sister affectionately, embarrassing her in front of Vash and Roberto and a handful of townspeople

Your nature would definitely catch Vash's eye and he'd find himself talking to you more than he expected

He definitely sees how you and Meryl are related, though, as you share the same temper and despite Meryl being the more openly-emotional/impulsive one, you have your moments too

There was a moment when Vash interrupted you and Meryl as you squabbled and you both turned to yell "The adults are talking!" at the same second

Vash just burst into laughter at that - you and Meryl were siblings, alright

Vash also sees you taking care of everybody in the group, always ensuring everybody is hydrated, fed, and well-rested as best as possible without a second thought

You also don't hesitate to sacrifice or give away anything you have that somebody else needs more than you do

Vash sees that and has even been on the receiving end of your kindness more than from anybody else in his life, and it melts his heart

"Oh, Vash, are you hungry? Here, have some of my food, I'm not that hungry!"

"Vash, that looks heavy, here, let me help you!"

"Can't sleep, Vash? Me, neither. Are you cold? You can take my sleeping bag and add it to yours if you want extra layers, I'll probably stay awake for a while longer."

Vash seriously hasn't met anybody as giving or as caring as you and to say you have a special place in his heart is an understatement

Vash does end up falling for you somewhere along the line without really realizing it

Meryl ends up being the one to make him realize it out when she says something along the lines of "Can you stop oogling my sibling? I know you're in love with them but seriously, you're making me nauseous."

The blush on Vash's face after Meryl said that matched the colour of his jacket and he spluttered in a futile attempt to argue or dismiss Meryl's statement, but one look from Meryl shut him up real quick

Meryl loves you dearly and sees that Vash makes you happy, but for some reason, you're both blind idiots

Time for ultimate wingwoman Meryl to shine

Locking the two of you in closets by "accident", having you two share rooms on your travels, you name it, Meryl's orchestrating it, even roping in Wolfwood and Roberto into her schemes to get you and Vash together

Meryl eventually sits down with you, maybe after a particularly difficult emotional moment and just talks with you

"I see how happy Vash makes you, (Y/N). I know you're in love with him. You should give this a chance."

When you and Vash finally come to your senses, Meryl is the first to exclaim in relief, "FINALLY!"

Meryl is your and Vash's #1 supporter and always will be, and you know Meryl's gonna hang the "she got you and Vash together" thing over you until you die

Taglist: @mossygalaxy, @ryuukami4, @spacioussoul, @iceoblivious

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader

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syndxlla · 1 year

Text

Some Wholesome Post-Calamity Zelink Thoughts

the pre-calamity thoughts

Link awkwardly offering her his rito garb to wear after the battle concludes. She’s in shock, and needs to wear something more practical than her ceremonial attire. Her other clothes have been destroyed after all these years. He turns the other way as she changes in some ruins. Her dirty hands run along the crumbling stone.

She can’t help but bury her face into his smell, trying desperately not to cry. How different will he be? He still smells the same. He smells of pine and charcoal.

Touch is completely different now, they are both deeply traumatized and absolutely terrified of losing one another again. It’s a hot and cold push and pull type of thing. they constantly want to hold one another and never let go, but are terrified of the other one being afraid of them.

Link still putting his hair up the same way as he did a century ago, his hair tie in between his teeth. Zelda’s heart softens when she notices it.

Zelda laughing for the first time in one hundred years. She cackles at something Link says. It was along the lines of “one hundred years of sleep and you’d think I’d be able to keep my eyes open for longer than an hour” as they travel to Kakariko for the first time since Ganon was destroyed. Her laugh surprises both of them, it’s music to both of their ear’s. But especially Link’s.

Zelda being nervous around the Horses at Dueling Peaks stable, everything is strange to her again. Link speaking softly and gently to both her and the horses, taking her hand and guiding it to pet the velvety nose of the steed. Her sigh of relief.

Both of them wanting to be with the other the way the pined for in their youth, but being too scared to try anything.

Link eventually takes the initiative after they watched the sunset together on the cliff at the Tech Lab in Hateno, the sun painting orange over the ocean. Zelda’s head rests on his shoulder, he takes her hand and loops his fingers with hers. They stay like that till the sun rises the next morning.

Link giving Zelda a gentle forehead kiss one morning when she burns breakfast again. She quietly apologizes as he takes the pot away from her, fixing it.

Link braiding her hair back, letting his fingers linger in her golden hair. He smells the top of her head, closing his eyes. He remembers more when he does, ever since she came back he seems to remember everything all the time.

There are two beds in their home in Hateno, but both of them have nasty nightmares. Zelda is the first one to crawl into his bed with him. They never sleep apart now if they can help it.

Zelda admitting how much Link gets along with the kids in Hateno. Playing games with them, teaching them basic defensive combat, he’s opened so much since she first knew him.

Zelda waking up before him one morning, just looking at his scarred back. Tracing feather-light finger-tips along the new scars.

Link cutting her hair after she has a break down. He tells her something Riju told him: Hair Holds memory. He’s spent the last two years regaining his memories, maybe it was time for both of them to lose some.

The two heading out into Hyrule for the first time, stopping by all the major cities to thank them for their help. To start rebuilding Hyrule. Link walks side by side with her now, their hands typically intertwined.

Their first kiss.

It happened at the outskirt stable on their way to Hebra and Rito Village. Link had a nasty sunburn from the desert. They listened as music played and life danced through the stable. A fiddle and accordion played a folky jig and they couldn’t help but dance to it. Both of them are awful dancers, tumbling all over the other. They laugh and cheer and hold one another and when they make eye contact it happens. It’s so fast and short but felt like second nature. They both wished they had done it early. A century earlier.

#zelink #zelda fandom #zelda breath of the wild #zelda totk #tloz zelda #loz zelda #zelda #the legend of zelda #zelda tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda #princess zelda #zelda fanart #zelda x link #tloz #tloz fandom

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ghostofskywalker · 11 months

Note

“how embarrassing would it be if i told you i’d dreamt of this since i first met you?” prompt with Echo? 🥰

i think this actually may be the softest thing i've ever written, i hope you enjoy it :)

words: 709

@clonexreaderbingo square: "you're lucky you're cute"

clone troopers masterlist

A steady beat echoed from the speakers in Cid’s cantina, the latest hit to those in the galaxy who didn’t have to worry about the horrors of the Empire. You were humming along as you wiped down the tables and stools, glad that Cid had not yet opened for the day, so you could pretend that things were different for a little while.

Life wasn’t terrible now, but you definitely missed the view of your Coruscant apartment and the feeling of living without the haunting terror that someone was looking over your shoulder. You could have stayed with the Empire and continued your work as a mechanic without issue, but you would have never forgiven yourself for taking the easy road, so here you were.

You sang along to the music as it became more repetitive, and it became easy to understand why this artist was so beloved among the general population. It certainly helped that their music was catchy, and it made the monotonous chore of cleaning a little bit more bearable.

The sound of someone stepping into the parlor interrupted a slightly off-key high note (from you, not the singer), and you eyes widened as you looked towards the door to see Echo, a warm smile on his face as he clapped for your singing. “Maker, this is embarrassing,” you said, quickly bringing the unopened bottle of liquor you were using as a makeshift microphone back down to the smooth surface of the bar.

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to Cid,” he said, stepping closer to you.

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank-”

“As long as you dance with me for the next song.”

So there was a bit of an ulterior motive here, got it. Well, if you were being honest, this was the nicest way you’ve ever been blackmailed, and it certainly helped that you had developed quite the little crush on Echo, even if he was a little bit of a smartass at times.

You paused, pretending to think about it before putting your hands on your hips. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

One of his hands grasped yours, and the other found its way to rest on your waist. As if this had been planned all along, a quiet and slow song was just starting to come through the speakers, by the same artist that you were singing along to before. “You think I’m cute?”

Part of you wanted to play your previous comment off as a joke, but the hopeful look in his eyes caused you to finally take a chance on something that you would have never done before. “I do,” you said softly, and you watched with joy as his face lit up even more as the two of swayed to the beat.

“Can I tell you something?”

That was a dangerous question, because you had just put your heart on the line. Whatever he said next would determine how quickly this dancing would cease, and you didn’t want this moment to end. “Is it bad?”

“No, it’s just- I-” he said, stumbling over his words a little. “How embarrassing would it be if I told you I’d dreamt of this since I first met you?”

This had to be a dream, because there was no way he had just said that to you. All those nights where you had laid in bed and thought about kissing him were now in reach, and it didn’t feel real.

“It’s not embarrassing at all,” you said.

“Really?”

“Really. Because it means I can do this.” And before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and placed the softest of kisses on his cheek. You could hear the way his breath hitched slightly echo in your brain, and you hadn’t heard the music for some time now, because the only people in the galaxy right now were you and him.

“Wait,” he said, just as you began to pull away.

“What?”

“I think you missed.” A soft breath of laughter escaped your lips before you placed them on his, and it was everything you had ever dreamed of.

Or at least, it was until Crosshair walked into the parlor and joyfully yelled that Hunter owed him ten credits.

- the end -

#tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you #tbb echo #tbb echo x gender neutral reader #echo x reader #echo x you #clone trooper x reader #the bad batch x reader #CFB2023

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morgana-ren · 11 months

Note

Morgana if Bailey and Leighton DID become love intrests, how do you think it would look like?

Also, wpuld they use pet names? If so, what pet names would they use?

I think it would be pretty interesting, actually!

They'd present the opportunity to do something entirely different than the rest of the love interests!

Not talking shit on them, but a lot of the love interests are pretty... stereotypical. You've got the stalker, the bully, the sugar daddy old enough to be your daddy, the sweet religious boy, the best friend, etc.

And they're great, actually. I love them.

But can you imagine doing something a little... different with it?

Bailey

I think Bailey's is the most unique. It wouldn't be a stereotypical Love Interest ordeal. It would very clearly be a love/hate thing, which would probably take some insanely high checks with a secret trigger, same with seducing him in his office. Kind of like a secret path you can take after the right amount of choices.

Maybe trying to seduce him multiple times results in a strange encounter. He hates it, and he has a serious problem trying to resist. So, he does what Bailey does and thinks about how he can turn a problem into an opportunity.

He can fuck one of his orphans. If it benefits him. Free stress relief and the like. He's already done it once, so what's done is done.

He'd have a love meter, but it doesn't quite... work in the same way it does with everyone else. He never gets gooey or mushy. He doesn't take you on dates or have nice dinners with you. The higher it goes, the more he just seeks you out-- maybe without even meaning to. There'd be more 'encounters' available.

Maybe something akin to a dominance meter, that if you pay your bills on time, stay out of trouble with the police and other threats, making his life easier, do what he wants in bed without whining and basically just not being a problem for him, it goes higher. You can be his little pet or helper, if it's high. He'll trust you on errands and ask you to drop off sealed paperwork or attend small meetings for him. Kind of like an assistant. He won't pay you, but he'll be a bit more lenient in the future— for a price.

Maybe some encounters similar to Whitney, where he puts you under his desk to uh.... entertain him while he works. Just walks in when you're in the bath. You'd occasionally run into him in town, where he'd save you from an assault.

"No touching my orphans-- for free."

He'd never say he loves you or anything like that. Nothing so touching. But you'd catch him staring sometimes, and he'd immediately look away. Maybe he'd stroke your hair offhandedly when he's finished with you rather than just throwing you out. You become someone he reluctantly cares for, but you'd never see it. He's still an antagonist. You're just bedding him, as far as you know. Lots of trauma. Stockholm syndrome type shit.

Maybe during an assault, you'll get out of it for free (similar to the one in school with Whitney) and they'd say something like "Isn't that Bailey's special orphan? Shit!"

He'd have some rotten encounters with the other love interests. You run into him on date night with Avery and they have the most awkward, tense conversation of all time, and Avery says something along the lines of "Is he your guardian? I don't like the way he looks at you. That's not the way a caretaker should look at their wards" or the like.

He'll actively throw Whitney out of the orphanage if he catches him, and tells him to quit sniffing around you. He couldn't afford you.

Same with Kylar, except maybe he sees Kylar as an active threat and pulls the gun out to threaten him. Tells him that if he harms a single hair on your head, he'll pay in more than just cash.

He'll come and get you if you're gone for too long. Send goons after you if Morgan has you trapped in the sewers. Show up at Eden's place for you. Same with the farm. He'll drag you back home to the orphanage and ask you exactly who the fuck it is you think you belong to. Have you hard against the desk (consensual if you're into it, nonconsensual if you ask him to stop) and warn you to stop disappearing. it wastes his time to go and look for you, so you had better stay close.

When his meter falls too low (dominance, that is) he quite literally chains you to the desk. Tells the school that you've fallen ill and won't be there for a while, and just... keeps you there until he's comfortable enough to release you. It's sort of like a soft bad end until you regain his trust.

He cannot be dismissed. This is permanent. Once you've got his attention, you have his attention. You wanted it so badly, and now you'll deal with the consequences.

Something along that vein is what I picture for Bailey without getting too OOC.

Leighton

Leighton is a little bit more straight forward. Triggered by consensually sleeping with him at the brothel enough times and making him cum in detention and picking flirty options rather than bitchy ones. Basically, you catch his attention, and he decides he wants to keep you around. He notices your 'little crush' on him and decides to take advantage.

So he makes some sort of excuse to keep you around more often. Maybe gives you an optional afterschool job in the office until it closes when he goes home so that you can be close. You can go to his office to trigger some events. Sorting files for him, sitting on his lap as he works, consensual photoshoots for him, letting him eat you out as you try to focus on his extra paperwork.

Detention is still detention, but there's a more sexual spin on it. Er— more of one than there already is. Instead of "I will obey the rules" over and over on the blackboard, he has you strip and write "I will obey my headmaster" over and over. Your spanking punishments turn into raw dogging. He 'helps' you wash his car, awfully hands-on. Puts it in your ass raw if you've been particularly naughty.

He's super into the power dynamic, and the headmaster/school girl thing gets him off, so a lot of your encounters are education themed. He's 'teaching' you. Showing you how to please a man. Health education lessons. Will spoon his seed into your mouth while rattling off the benefits of swallowing cum.

At the brothel, he'll still occasionally invite another student to join you, but he'll also just do single encounters with you, and he'll pay you more— or not at all, depending.

You basically become a literal teacher's pet.

He can't really take you out in public for obvious reasons, but sometimes he'll take you to a restaurant outside of town and call you his daughter or his niece to anyone who asks. He might try to sneak you off to a hotel on the weekends, making some excuse about a student conference or special project. Sometimes he'll let you stay after school and drink with him in his office. Once his love is high enough, he'll unlock the school during the weekend and you can find him there during the day and do some... 'Roleplay' with him.

(does it count as roleplay if he's actually your teacher and you're actually his student?)

He'll start coming to your around town performances, whether it's at the sex shop or the museum. Always takes photos. He will 'reward' high grades and 'discipline' delinquency.

Does not get on with your other love interests. He's arguably the creepiest. Will deliberately separate you and Robin, and make crude remarks to Whitney about you. Won't spank Sydney anymore, and will just send them out as he uhh disciplines you, making a lewd comment as he does.

If he meets Avery, he calls you his 'best little student' in a way that has his skin crawling, and winks at you as he leaves. Calls you into his office if you've been missing at another place too long— and calls Bailey regarding you, which can lead to some interesting conversation if you're romancing them both. Gives Kylar detention for circling you, telling them to stop 'harassing his top student.'

He's still a pervert, but the higher his love is, the more he fixates on you to the point it can be suffocating and extremely unsettling.

I think if I really put more thought into it, I could come up with something more comprehensive and in character. It could be a really cool little offshoot from the typical love interests and leaves some room to experiment.

As for pet names, I think Bailey tries to avoid them, but in the heat of the moment, will let something along the lines of 'daddy' slip. He's your caretaker, after all. Can't resist it. Talks a lot about how he 'owns' you and how you 'belong' to him. Says you will always belong to him as he marks up your neck. Maybe you should get it tattooed.

Basically giving you a pet name is admitting he thinks of you in a special manner, so he really tries not to. Something something 'dirty little orphan bitch' and 'my little orphan whore.' They'll be slightly kinder if he has high love, but never outright cute or kind. His best orphan, his top earner, his naive little brat. Often claims ownership of you shortly after saying it just to reassert dominance. It's just how he is.

Leighton strikes me as a complete creep. He genuinely likes when you call him headmaster or professor, but will start to slip into 'uncle' territory once he trusts you. Possibly even daddy. He gets off on the age difference and the power imbalance. Really gets off.

You're little girl, his darling student, his precious pet. His loving niece, so attentive to uncle's needs. He gets really eerie with it is what I'm saying. During sex, he's still demeaning. Filthy little whore, headmaster's personal dirty slut. Makes up scenarios about you fucking him to get your grades up, even if that's not the case. Like gets real weird with it.

Like "Do you like when Uncle Leighton's cock makes you to feel good, little girl?" And "you're headmaster's dirty little secret." Territory.

A real winner, he is.

#morgana and friends #degrees of lewdity #this is just sorta rattled off the top of my head #always open to suggestions too #i think with time and love and care i could make a legitimate mod layout for it #i know its ooc but like they arent technically love interests so i gotta push it #may also be letting my personal creepiness shine through here #but i mean... they ARE creepy and awful

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luvzxr · 9 months

Text

Innocence

nsfw (18+) mdni please. I think I'd actually cry.

Not 100% sure where this fic is gonna be taken as I'm the type of go with the flow writer. This may contain heavy subjects such as; depression, alcohol and alcohol abuse, slight age gap? (by a few years in my head. Not much.) possible smut. Possible mentions of gore but I probably won't go heavy on that. If I do I'll put a bigger warning in the future on the chapters that are heavy with them!

Hello! I figured I'd start on a series because I personally love longer series and the anticipation of waiting for wonderful writers to bring out new parts just hits different. I will personally be using an OC that goes by the name Sophie Hayes but going along with this fic it will be Sophie Redfield :). You are more than welcome to use your own name or a personal oc name however! I prefer to use names rather y/n or you/your! I've loved the name Sophie after reading a fanfic years ago on Wattpad and I fell in love instantly with the name so we'll be using my Sophie girl as the main character but like I said, you are more than welcome to use your own name or a personal oc name to fill that in for yourself!

ahem. Anywayss.

Description: The youngest and most innocent member of the redfield siblings finds herself falling for a the broken and not so innocent blonde agent whose been a well known long term friend with her two older siblings.

Word count: 2,294

Bang, bang, bang.

The entirety of my body jolting at every kickback that was shot from the firearms my current older brother, Chris, was using for his daily target practice. I couldn't help the wincing and jolts; I shouldn't be here.

I couldn't express to you how many times I tried to tug on the man's sleeve, shirt or even gentle taps to his shoulder to ask him when we were leaving but I barely got a direct answer from the him at all.

"Chris," I tugged on the shoulder strap of his bullet proof vest. I was beginning to feel more agitated by every passing second we stayed inside the echoing room that smelled nothing of gun powder. "My ears are starting to hurt from the noise. When can we go?"

"Throw these on Soph. They should help with the noise," he placed a pair of noise reduction headphones over my ears and the gave a few pats to my head before his attention was directed back to his previous target practice shenanigans.

But even with headphones my ears felt like they were throbbing against the muffled fabric, the thudding of my own heartbeat was getting overwhelming and even a teensy bit aggravating.

Stepping back to my previous seating with a sigh, knowing we'd probably be here for another hour or two, hell even three before he decides to even take it upon himself to rest and I felt like I was only losing a consistent battle with him.

The thing about Chris is he was the most stubborn sibling out of Him, Claire and I. He didn't budge half the time and even went on to say 'it wouldn't hurt for me to teach you a few things yknow.' And he wasn't entirely wrong but I hated everything that had to do with weaponry and violence, it made me feel queasy and left an unsettling feeling at the pit of my stomach just having my frail hands wrapped around the grip of a singular handgun.

The thing about me, however is if I push his buttons hard enough— guilt him. He might actually budge just a little bit and it grew to be a personal trick up the sleeve that both Claire and I used against him when we wanted something and he wasn't caving. Often times it worked more with me than with her so she always had me do the dirty work in that aspect.

However, I chose not to this time around. I chose to leave the heap of stubborn known as my brother alone because I knew in his eyes this was some sort of stress relief. It was serotonin regardless of how violent and unnerving I found it myself because to him this was what heaven looked like, served to him on a silver platter.

Here, he didn't have to worry about his life being on the line or other lives grasped in the palm of his hands. He didn't have to look the poor individuals in the eye as the light faded from them and leave yet another feeling of emptiness in his heart.

I winced at the mere thought itself.

I didn't have it in me to take that away from him. Not now.

Instead I sat like the good little sister I was and chose to endure the consistent bang after bang, each shot hitting somewhere between the head and shoulders of the practice dummies out in the range.

Running a hand through my hair, I sit with my arms folded over my chest, bouncing my left leg in anticipation and eagerness just to get out of this situation. I needed something to do besides stare off into the abyss because I couldn't even manage that, the sound of the reload and kick back of the trigger was the only thing my mind could focus on.

I allowed my cheeks to puff out. I should of stayed at home. I could be curled up in my comfy two set of pink Bugs Bunny sleep attire with some stupid film set on the television right now with some stupid microwaveable meal set perfectly on my lap. Hell, even popcorn would do. Anything was better than this. Doesn't sound like an appealing activity to spend your Friday Night, but anything was better than where I currently was.

You'd think that any 29 year old man would be at a bar checking out some girls that wore too little of clothing or just enough to hide what any man would be drowning in their own set of lust just thinking about it. That's an average thought for a man, right? That was fun to them especially if they were single. Instead, Chris was found here almost every day at the butt crack of dawn with no other excuse other than 'I need to practice my aim.' Though even I could read right through that lie.

I guess I shouldn't be judging the guy, it might come back to bite me in the ass because every morning for myself was the same thing just like him.

Wake up, quickly brush through my set of pearly whites and then rush down to the living room TV where my two other siblings would find me sitting until noon on most days watching the old cartoon channel where Bugs and the little annoying RoadRunner bird were to be found.

I realize I am 25 years old and that was probably a child like way to spend my mornings but I didn't necessarily care. It has been my morning routine since I was a little kid and it wasn't about to change just because people looked to me as if I was too old to be doing that.

I snapped out of my momentary thoughts of the night I could be having if I didn't allow Chris to drag me from my spot on the couch. The singular door to the range slide open, snapping my head to catch a glimpse of the figure emerging, he was hard not to notice.

"Chris,"

My brother took notice immediately, slipping his own set of headphone off to rest around his neck. His pistol being set to safety before resting it on the small counter in front of him, "Leon."

Leon had been a old friend of both Claire and Chris over the years, Claire being the first to of met the blonde years back in Raccoon City when all hell broke lose. He picked her up at a gas station that was swarmed with nothing but the undead, helped her through the mess even while separated and then the rest was history. In more ways than one I was thankful for him.

We weren't close like he was with my siblings. I knew little to nothing about his personal life and I suppose that was reciprocated when it came to him— he knew nothing about me other than I was the youngest out of the Redfield siblings.

I'd see him around the house every once in a while and usually the only interactions we ever made were small head nods or a wave of some kind but it was never a conversation. Maybe, if I was lucky— I'd get a 'Hey Soph.' But that even was a bit rare to hear from him. We kept to our own and I suppose that had something to do with the age difference and how I didn't work under D.S.O or even in the line of work that Claire took on. I worked at a little Café on the corner not far from where Claire, Chris and I all lived. A nine to five average job.

I was hardly ever in the loop with the three of them unless Absolutely necessary. Sometimes it irritated me and other times I was thankful for it.

"I'm gonna be heading out for the night but," I watched as the duffle bag that was hanging from his left shoulder was slightly moved to the front of him, rummaging through and pulled out what seemed to be a case file, "Director Winston wanted you to take a look at this. Our next case I suppose."

Chris had taken the flimsy case file into his grasp, giving Leon an appreciative head nod, "Sure. I'll take a look when I head home."

Yeah right. Like we would be leaving anytime soon.

I wrapped my arms over the top of the chair, my upper torso turned to face in their direction and I rested my chin down on my forearm all while my eyes fluttered shut. Sleep had really started to take a toll on my mind and body as of recently and as of now, I suppose it was showing quite a bit now.

I was still currently in College and as much as I loved my current job because of the customers and the environment in general was always something I looked forward to, It wasn't something I planned to do for the rest of my life. I somewhat had a plan for my future-- Something both Claire and Chris pounded into my head until it eventually stuck. They'd constantly lecture me on how I just needed to find something I loved to do, something I'd enjoy and wouldn't look at it like a job but rather a hobby but It wasn't like I needed much convincing from either of them.

I watched both of my siblings fight off all the bioterrorists and B.O.W.'s for years. I watched each of them fall apart and be forced to pick those pieces up on their own, one by one. I was a first hand witness to see how the innocence and light they once held in their eyes had faded away until it was nothing more than an old shell of who they use to be, drowning in the darkest parts of them would then you find maybe a small glimpse of their happy nature they once held.

In some sort of way, I understood their need for me to go to college, to have at least one of us find normalcy because deep down I suppose they knew I'd fall into that same work unless they drilled into my head where I needed to be.

It wasn't so bad, the only complaint I ever had was the bags under my eyes that I could only imagine were big enough to carry groceries if I wanted them to. And not the flimsy, small bags of dairy or maybe those small boxes of chex mix you'd snag from the shelves. No, I'm talking about the gallon of milk they'd have to double bag. The twenty four pack of soda you'd struggle to haul in through the front door. Hell, even the cases of water. I could carry all of it under the honey pools of my face.

I must of found my way into a short slumber because the last thing I remembered was faintly hearing both Leon and Chris murmuring amongst themselves over that file. Now, here I was with a few taps to my shoulder and both men looking down at me with what seemed to be amusement in both of their eyes.

"Cmon Sophie. Leon offered to take you home."

Oh thank god.

It was like heaven hitting my ears in nothing but pure bliss with the mere though of my aching back hitting the plush of that mattress waiting for me at home. I was practically jumping for joy on the inside, bouncing off every wall inside my head.

I rubbed the tired from my eyes with my palms, groggily speaking, "oh okay," a soft yawn escaping through all while I pushed and forced myself up from rather uncomfortable hunk of mental I had been sitting in for the past six hours now.

Hearing a chuckle from both men at me turning my gaze towards them but I couldn't find it in me to give a gentle glare or even a playful scowl because I was far too tired to do such a thing.

Both Leon and I begun heading out towards the door, my legs having a mind of their own to drag me around for the short period they needed to. I heard Chris call out to us which earned him a rather irritable groan from me that I though was only amongst myself but ended up being a little louder than intended.

"Make sure she gets through the door," he was in the process of placing those god awful set of headphones back over his ears.

"Will do," I heard Leon call back, giving a lazy thumbs up. He was trying to leave as soon as possible and I knew that. Chris however, was not and I could tell he was treating it like I was being babysat inside of just a drop off to the house.

"Key is in the small flower pot to the left of the door,"

"Got it,”

"Oh! also Soph, don't stay up too late. You got classes tomorrow. I better not see you up late or I-"

I finally had enough, finishing his sentence for him, "Kick my ass. Yes, I know. Can we go now?" I huffed, motioning towards the door with almost a whiney tone to my voice but I couldn't care less right now.

He let out a husky laugh, although I didn't find it very funny he was taking up more of my time I could be using to get a decent eight hours of sleep. But with a wave of his hand I was practically pushing Leon with my palms to get moving before he started talking all over again like he was a babysitter of some sort and giving Leon a run down on how to handle me as if I needed yet another person worrying about me in my corner.

#leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s. kennedy #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy #Leon Scott kennedy x oc #x oc #leon x oc #leon kennedy x oc #resident evil x oc #leon s. kennedy x oc

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sophiainspace · 2 months

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Hello!!! For the character asks game, I’ve got four for you for your icon there, Mick Rory: 2, 7, 8, and 21, if you feel so inclined!

Aww, my icon indeed <3

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

His loyalty. An underrated thing about Mick Rory. If he’s on your side, he’s never leaving it, and he would die for you. I just queued a gifset of the season 6 (I think?) scene where Mick persuades Sara to come home and tells her she’s his oldest friend (the ‘Rogue Canary with the missing member’ feels, I swear) and it’s like. He was devoted to Len for 20 years, in whatever way you want to interpret that devotion, and he gave that loyalty to Sara - who he calls Boss just enough times that you feel it - and that was no small thing for him. But he would defend her life with his, along with the rest of the Legends. And he did, a lot.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

The sheer weight and quality of creative fanon means we have so much history to draw on for Mick in fic. And it all comes from very few references. Burning down his house. The fight in juvie. The 30-year partnership with Len. And that’s… about it, I think? But look at the amount of young coldwave/young Mick fics and headcanons those lines have spawned. Incredible. I’ve never written a character (or pairing) with so much glorious fanon backstory. It is a gift. (And the fandom didn’t even do all that much with the rich vein of everything we learned later about his family. We had already had given ourselves so much to work with!)

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

It’s kind of related to my answer to question 2. I’m not a huge fan of the general fandom opinion that Mick was only ever mistreated by the Legends (or the writers) and hated every second of his time on the Waverider. Opinions will vary, of course, but I adore that found family for Mick. We do not speak of season two, which was poorly written and used Mick as a plot point, but for the most part after that I think it was clear that Mick loved the Waverider crew and vice versa. He grew as a person a lot on that ship, and he had an arc that I liked a lot overall, with some fantastic unlikely friendships. We got writer!Mick, and dad!Mick, and right-hand-man-to-Sara!Mick, and the growth of so many relationships we never could have predicted (don’t tell me he didn’t freaking adore Ava by the end, after the inevitable rocky start between them), and I loved it all. At times the writers liked to use him for a source of quick comic relief, and at other times his storylines were weird or nonexistent, and there was a little too much ableist writing there, but I still liked where he went on that show. I suspect it comes down to people who only like Mick with Len (romantically or otherwise) who didn’t like to think that Mick could have - and did have - a life beyond the Rogues. And I say all of this as a still deeply devoted coldwave fan, for they are truly my OTP. But still. I love Legends Mick, in a very different way from how I love Flash Mick, and I love the way he grew beyond Len.* Is a lot of my Legends Mick headcanon? Yep. Do I care? Nope. They gave me just enough to work with. :)

*I’m so tempted to get into how, while I love Mick with Len, their relationship was deeply codependent and Len clearly kept him from growing because he was a possessive bastard who loved Mick but also wanted to control his partner on his own terms. And how, even though it took Mick a while to realise he could be his own person outside of that partnership, he grew in some directions he never could have if Len hadn’t died. But that’s off topic - and hey, that headcanon is already in quite a few of my fics, with room for more… P.S. Did I mention I love coldwave and am also quite fond of Len (the possessive bastard) okay good

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

I love autistic Mick headcanons and playing with them. And of course, I love everything you can do with coldwave, because of all the fanon stuff I mentioned above. Hey maybe it’s time for another coldwave fic…

Character ask meme

#thank you for the Qs!#ask meme #mick rory #meta #legends of tomorrow #the flash tv

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you-heard-what-i-meant · 6 months

Text

Merlin - Written in the Scars

[Arthur is king, didn't die at Camlann, and knows about Merlin's magic]

After some visitors arrive at Camelot and Merlin has a bit of a day, Arthur feels the need to check on him. He really should learnt to knock before he barges into Merlin's room (or not).

Notes:

Title taken from The Script's song Written in the Scars.

No specific Merthur, but definitely hints of it if you want to read it that way ;-).

Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own (and I apologise)!

Angst, Whump, Emotional Whump, Mentions of Injuries (no detail), Mentions of Torture (no detail), Beginnings of Merthur.

Available on AO3 HERE!

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The hour is late and Arthur is moving fast through the corridors of the castle. Druids had arrived earlier in the day asking for Merlin’s help - Emrys’s help. They had a young girl with them who they discovered bound and gagged in a cave - she was refusing to speak, and what little information they’d managed to gather through telepathic communication wasn’t helping. She was clearly in possession of magical abilities, and it would seem she was abandoned to die by magic-fearing parents. Merlin had spent all day working with her and had reported back to Arthur and the Druids, but the king had sensed all the things Merlin wasn’t saying, and now he felt the need to check in with him.

The king doesn’t think twice as he strolls into Merlin’s chambers, heading for the dressing area where the man is likely preparing for bed. He’s just about to call out when he catches a glimpse of the man in question. Completely unaware of his friend’s presence, Merlin’s back is to Arthur as he pulls his undershirt over his head and drops it on the bed. The sight of the exposed skin of Merlin’s back causes Arthur’s words to die in his throat.

Arthur is expecting to see perfect, unmarred skin - maybe the odd mark from their many misdemeanours over the years. What he’s presented with is a collage of scars - some deep-set, some raised, large, small, stretching and criss-crossing and twisting. They come into stark relief and almost glitter in the candlelight as Merlin moves, stretching his arms above his head to work the stiffness out of his muscles and drawing Arthur’s eyes along the slender limbs.

There he finds more scarring. What looks like an old burn covers the whole of one shoulder, clearly continuing over the front of his body. Marks that look very much like rope burn twist around both of Merlin’s slim arms, culminating in a mess of ligature marks around his wrists. Arthur has a moment of sick recognition as he looks to Merlin’s back again - he can place the weapons that caused most of the marks. Whips, blades, fire, arrows… The rest he can only assume are courtesy of falling on something, restraints, and magical wounds.

He follows one scar - almost black in colour - from just above his bony shoulder blades, up his neck along the line of his spine, disappearing into his hairline. Arthur’s gaze catches Merlin’s face in the window, and finds himself locking eyes with him in the reflection.

Merlin whips around, the flash of gold in his eyes just dissipating as his arms instinctively move to cover his chest before he has the wherewithal to snatch his shirt up from his bed and vaguely hold it against his body. His startled voice comes out higher in pitch than normal.

“Don’t you know how to knock?!”

Arthur’s eyes are drawn to his friend’s shoulder, seeking that horrific burn that he’d seen a moment ago. He just catches sight of it before it finishes quietly fading into perfect, pale flesh. His response is instant.

“Stop it.”

“What-?”

“Drop the spell.”

Arthur’s words come out a mixture of commanding king and heartbroken confidante. Merlin freezes, and it occurs to Arthur that given the long history of prejudice against magic in Camelot, his words could have an unintended threatening undertone. He should have tempered his reaction. He deliberately softens his voice.

“I just mean… You don’t have to hide from me.”

Merlin’s searching gaze is anxious. Arthur fights to keep his face somewhere between neutral and softly encouraging.

Neither of them speak for a long moment.

Finally, the king’s quiet words fill the space between them.

“Your - What happened to you, Merlin?”

Merlin shifts, his blue eyes darting to the floor as they flash gold, his hands fidgeting with the screwed up shirt that he’s barely covering his torso with. Slowly, the scars fade back into existence. He clearly tries to be flippant but his voice comes out more sad than jovial.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

After a moment of indecision Arthur steps forward, gently liberating the shirt from Merlin’s grasp and tossing it back onto the bed. He stands for a moment appraising the man, who shuffles uncomfortably in his exposure to Arthur’s scrutinising gaze even as he raises his head almost defiantly.

Arthur’s eyes catch on the gruesome ligature marks around Merlin’s wrists. He finds himself reaching for Merlin’s forearm and softly holds it as he appraises the marred skin, the fingertips of his free hand tracing over the scars so tenderly it makes Merlin shudder. It occurs to Arthur that this is a somewhat intimate gesture, but the bond he and Merlin have makes them far more tactile with each other than people would normally expect.

Arthur looks up to meet Merlin’s eyes, a mixture of fear and pain in his own.

“I don’t recognise most of these wounds.”

Uncertainty twists Merlin’s face.

“No, you… You didn’t see how most of them happened.”

Arthur’s eyes close in regret. He takes a deep breath before he meets Merlin’s gaze again.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Surprise crosses Merlin’s face.

“No, Arthur, that’s not - none of it was your fault.“

“Either way, I’m sorry.”

Merlin doesn’t know how to respond. Silence reigns again.

“Tell me about them.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Arthur pours every ounce of sincerity into his voice that he can muster. “Please tell me. I need to understand - there have been so many times I wasn’t there to help you. After everything we’ve been through, I just want to know you.”

Merlin’s crystal blue eyes are wide, and there’s hesitation in his features.

“I’m not sure you want to know, Arthur.”

Arthur’s heart aches and the pain of distrust burns in his stomach.

“Why, because some of them are from magic?”

Merlin’s eyes widen even further.

“No! Well… I know you’re still getting used to the magic thing, but it’s mostly that -”

Merlin cut’s himself off, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as his eyes search Arthur’s face for something.

“What?”

Compassion floods Merlin’s features. His voice is gentle when he speaks.

“... Because I don’t want you beating yourself up about them.”

Arthur stares, dumbfounded. He eventually regains his composure enough to respond.

“Well there’s not much you can do about that. I already feel a world of guilt just from seeing them. I just really want - no, I need to understand everything that’s happened to you - to us. We’ve never actually spoken about everything, never really taken the time to process all the things we’ve been through.”

Merlin is quiet, doubt lining his features. Arthur realises what he’s truly asking.

“I’m sorry, I have no right to ask. But please, if you can ever bring yourself to tell me, I will sit and listen through every pain you’ve been forced to bear. I owe you the respect of at least knowing everything that you’ve been through, even if there’s nothing I can do to make up for it.”

The unshed tears in Merlin’s eyes almost make Arthur drag him into an embrace, but he knows that right now it would be more to comfort himself than Merlin. Instead he squeezes the forearm in his grasp and grips the man’s shoulder with his other hand - a gesture he has always used to indicate his support and respect.

Merlin studies him for a moment. Arthur prepares himself for another rejection when the man raises his head decisively.

“It doesn’t bother me. To talk about them, I mean. I just want to be sure it’s not going to push you into a bad place. You’ve got enough going on.”

Arthur’s heart clenches at the consideration Merlin is showing him. Always. Merlin is always about others - particularly Arthur - first and himself last. He raises his head to match his friend’s.

“Merlin, I promise you that this isn’t about self-punishment or whatever else. I want to know you. If you are willing to tell me, I’d be honoured to listen.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Arthur wants to curl up in a ball. Both seated on the bed, Merlin had started small - “Arrowhead - you were there for that one.” and “No you didn’t know about those ones. I got the stuffing kicked out of me by some of your father’s fan club. Gaius patched me up.”

It soon progressed to “That was Aulfric and Sophia, the Sidhe? You were actually standing right beside me and watched it happen but you were too enchanted to notice anything. That took a really long time to heal. It sometimes still burns, even now. All the scars caused by magic do.”

And eventually they arrived at “I’ve lost count of the number of people who have tried to strangle me or cut my throat” and “Uhhh.. yeah. Those ones… I got taken by some of Morgause’s followers and, um, they didn’t just use normal weapons to make me feel their anger. Wasn’t sure I was going to survive that one, actually.”

Finally they reached the worst of the scars, still vaguely pink and fresh looking. At first, Merlin just shakes his head - “oh a lot’s happened recently” - until finally Arthur’s gentle-but-insistent prodding gets Merlin to release a resigned sigh.

“Do you remember when… um… When I -” Merlin's utter discomfort tells Arthur exactly the event he’s thinking of.

“When Morgana enchanted you to try and kill me?”

“Yeah.”

“You were missing for days.”

“Yeah… well…” Merlin’s distress comes out in his fidgeting. Arthur suddenly feels sick. Still gently holding Merlin’s arm, he runs his fingers along the scars on his wrist again.

“She tortured you.”

It isn’t a question, but Merlin’s eyes betray his answer. For a moment Arthur can’t find his breath. Eventually his voice cracks on a question he’s not sure he wants the answer to.

“How long?”

Merlin tilts his head, a sorrowful look on his face. “Arthur…”

Arthur speaks through gritted teeth. “How. Long.”

Merlin’s eyes dart away. “Not sure. I lost track of night and day in the end.”

Arthur slams his eyes closed against the storm of emotions twisting in his stomach. Anger. Sympathy. Regret. Grief. He swallows hard and allows himself a moment to breathe - but something is itching at the front of his mind and as much as he knows he has no right to make his friend relive these horrors, he has to know. He snaps his head up, eyes instantly connecting with Merlin’s when he opens them.

“How many times has it happened?”

“- What -?”

Arthur grinds his teeth as pain lances through his chest. He falters for a moment, then his voice comes out almost a whisper. “How many times have you been tortured, Merlin?”

Merlin’s broken look tells him everything he needs to know. Grief and pain tear a hole in Arthur’s chest. He chokes out his words. “I’m so sorry -”

Merlin cuts him off “- Don’t. Please don’t do that. It wasn’t your fault, and without all these scars you wouldn’t be here now. So…”

“I should have done better. I was supposed to protect you.”

“No, the prophecy was for me to protect you.”

Arthur glowers at the other man. “I should have done better. You mean more to me than you could ever know, Merlin. I should have done better.”

Merlin’s bright blue eyes are sad, yet there’s a hint of defiance there. His voice is strong when he speaks.

“No matter what they did to me, I always knew it was worth the pain. Because even though I couldn’t tell you, even though I hoped one day you could know the real me… Everything that happened to me meant that you got a step nearer to who you needed to become. And while they were busy hurting me, they weren’t hurting you.”

Arthur makes a choked sound, blinking rapidly as he looks away. He flounders for an embarrassingly long time before finding his words.

“Merlin, I… You’ve been all alone with it, all this time. I… I abandoned you. Somewhere inside myself I knew, but I still did nothing about it. I’m so sorry Merlin.”

Merlin knows there’s no response that would appease his friend, so instead he places his free hand on Arthur’s forearm and squeezes.

They lapse into silence. Arthur is almost unaware of the way he’s running his thumb over a deep scar on Merlin’s forearm, still in his grasp after all this time. He marvels that the man doesn’t shy away from touch after all he’s suffered, and after a moment’s thought it occurs to him that no-one else does touch Merlin. The only person Merlin is at all tactile with is him.

Something dawns on Arthur. He meets Merlin’s soft gaze. “That spell you were doing earlier - do you keep that going all day just so no-one sees?”

Merlin’s already shaking his head before Arthur’s finished speaking, his dark curls bouncing and a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Not entirely, just my hands and wrists. Why do you think I’m always wearing tunics and neckerchiefs?”

It gets Arthur thinking. He’s only seen Merlin in any state of undress once. Maybe twice. Both times when they were on long journeys and stopped to bathe in rivers. Merlin practically hid from Arthur the whole time - keeping the water up to his neck. Arthur had only glimpsed Merlin’s bare torso for seconds as he entered and left the water. And his skin had been -

“When we’ve bathed in the rivers, you’ve always managed to avoid me seeing you properly. And the few glances I got, I thought your skin was too perfect for someone who’d been in as many scuffles and accidents as you had. I should have known.”

Merlin gives an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, I was only just learning about mirage spells at the time, so I tried to make sure you didn’t see anything. I could make myself look like a totally different person, but I was struggling with how to look like me, only better.”

Arthur’s heart cracks.

“There’s nothing about you that needs to be ‘better’, Merlin. There never has been.”

Merlin’s eyes are soft and sad. “Arthur, I’ve been hiding who I really am for my whole life. If people saw all this-” he wiggles his scarred arm slightly in Arthur’s gentle grip to demonstrate his meaning “- they would have questions. And people would fear me. A horrifically-scarred sorcerer doesn’t exactly scream ‘trust me’, does it? I mean, look what happened with Edwin -”

Arthur blanches as Merlin’s words. “- Don’t compare yourself to him -”

Merlin sighs good naturedly. “I’m not saying I’m like him, I’m saying that people were scared of him because of how he looked. We’re trying to build a new world here, Arthur, I’ve got to do everything I can to make people like me.”

“People love you, Merlin. You saw the reaction when you became court sorcerer -”

“- Arthur -”

“- Merlin.”

They lock stares, reading a multitude of unspoken words in each other’s faces. Merlin breaks the impasse first. He speaks quietly, his eyes so full of something that Arthur feels the need to gently squeeze the forearm in his grasp again.

“I’m sorry for not telling you - for not being honest with you again. I just -”

“- Merlin.” The way Arthur speaks his name makes the other man go still. Arthur suddenly feels the weight of what he’s put Merlin through this evening.

“I understand. It’s personal. I’m truly sorry I’ve intruded on something so private. I had no right to demand that you showed me any of this, and I especially had no right to ask you to relive it. ”

Merlin just shakes his head, waving off the notion that Arthur has somehow violated his privacy. Arthur takes it as an indication to continue, speaking just in time to cut off whatever Merlin was about to say.

“But I want you to know that you should be proud of your battle scars. They’re proof that you’ve survived unthinkable pain, that you’ve risked your life time and again to save myself and countless others. You’re the greatest warrior Camelot has ever seen -” Merlin scoffs, about to refute the statement until Arthur barrels over him “- you are. Please promise me you’ll at least never hide these things from me again?”

Merlin’s eyes search the king’s face. He finds nothing but sincerity.

“I promise.”

Arthur inclines his head in acknowledgement. After a pause, he voices one of the many things that are still bothering him. “You said the magic scars still hurt sometimes - is there anything I can do to help? Is there a salve I can help you put on or something?”

Merlin smiles softly. “No, it’s not… It’s not the scars on the outside, if that makes sense?”

Arthur nods slowly. He often still feels the burn of the Questing Beast’s bite. “Well, I want to help in any way I can. Anytime there’s anything I can do, whether it’s to listen as you rage against the discomfort, apply a salve, or help you to bathe - anything, you come to me. Agreed?”

A cheeky smile lights up Merlin’s features and Arthur’s heart glows. “Do you want to give me a bath Arthur?”

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur’s answer is completely serious. “Yes. Anything you need.”

Seeing the stunned expression on Merlin’s face, Arthur continues. “Look, I’ve never had to deal with anything on my own. How many times have you tended my wounds, stayed by my side through the night so I could sleep safely, helped me to bathe when I’m hurt?”

Merlin goes to speak, but Arthur cuts him off. “ - Don’t you dare say it was your duty. You’ve always been so much more than a servant. And it works both ways. I’m always here for you, understand?”

Merlin’s smile is soft but so full of affection it almost hurts. “I know.”

Arthur grins back at him, the tension melting away as he snatches up Merlin’s shirt and throws it in his face.

“Now for love of the gods, put your shirt back on before someone walks in and gets the wrong idea.”

Merlin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Wouldn’t want people getting jealous, would we?”

Merlin’s delighted laugh when the well-aimed pillow hits him in the face puts Arthur’s world back on its axis, even as he ducks the barrage of soft furnishings that magically hurl themselves at him.

#Beginnings of Merthur #Merlin Scar Reveal #Arthur knows about Merlin's Magic #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #Merlin #arthur pendragon #arthur and merlin #bbc merthur #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fan fic #merlin fanfiction #merlin fan fiction #merthur fanfic #merthur fan fic #merthur fanfiction #merthur fan fiction

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