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folkloreguk · 3 years

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French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years

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Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 1)

Ben Drowned

You had promised, sworn on your very life, that you wouldn’t laugh. It was an oath. One to be taken very seriously.

“Using your hand to muffle the sound still counts as laughing.”

Part of you felt really bad but that made you snicker even harder. Your best friend, at the very least, did appear extremely shaken about the entire thing. She sat on the edge of the couch with her arms crossed. Dark bags had formed beneath her eyes and her attention seemed unable to stray from the Nintendo 64 that sat between you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you have to understand how this sounds. You’re telling me that you’re being haunted by a literal video game.”

She pulled her legs to her chest. The amount of weight that she had lost recently couldn’t possibly be healthy. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Have you considered talking to a psychiatrist?” you offered. “Or perhaps selling this game?”

“He would kill me.”

You picked up the Nintendo 64 and stared at the main menu of the game. It looked pretty normal to you. You fiddled around with the settings to turn the music down. “I really think that talking to somebody about this would help.”

“That’s what you don’t understand,” she said. “I want to stop playing. I want to speak to people but all that he wants is for me to continue trying to beat the game. There’s no way to win! The entire thing is rigged!”

“Have you looked up a guide?”

She groaned. “Nobody’s going to listen to me.”

An awkward silence fell over the room and you shifted around in your seat before offering some coffee. She accepted but the kettle had barely been boiling for a few seconds when her phone chimed happily.

“Oh look, he wants to play now,” she muttered. She thrust the device to you. “Take a look for yourself.”

The notification had come through an app called CleverBot. It was a very simple ‘hi’ message that didn’t really seem all too haunting. You opened it up and clicked around the app for a little. “Looks like just a chatroom,” you said. “Why’d you download this?”

“I didn’t. I just woke up the one day and it was on my phone.”

You closed the app and returned to the home screen. It immediately reopened and the same message popped up again. An identical thing happened the second time. And then again.

“This looks like a virus,” you said. “It’s probably best to uninstall.”

Clicking on the button made the icon disappear for a short while but it was quick to reappear. This time, when the chatroom opened itself, the message had changed to simply say ‘rude’.

You pursed your lips. That was suspicious enough for you to understand her potential worries. “I don’t think that it’s haunted but you should probably take it to a professional to have it wiped or something. And maybe consider less porn in the future?”

Your joke fell flat but it died when the chatbot began typing. Not too long after, another message had come through.

‘I don’t hang out in such places.’

“Can…” you trailed off. “No, there’s no way that they’ve hacked the microphone, right?”

‘Don’t need to hack in to hear what you’re saying.’

The colour drained from your face and you quickly glanced towards your friend. She didn’t seem panicked, even when you showed her the message. If anything, her expression was resigned as though this was a regular occurrence.

You didn’t get too much time to respond when a horrible static sound came through her phone. The screen began flashing and blurry images raced across it. A distorted version of the Majora’s Mask theme song started playing. It felt like your ears were bleeding. Scared, you threw the phone to the floor and, with a shattering crack, everything stopped.

For a while, you stared at it but then she said, “He’s going to be pissed with that.”

There was a chime from somewhere on your right. Your own phone’s screen lit up. Nervously, you reached over to check on it.

A single notification stood there, from an app called CleverBot.

‘You Shouldn’t Have Done That.”

Bloody Painter

The park was busy this time of day and filled with an awaiting audience – whether they were interested in watching the performance or not. Many seemed to appreciate it though, taking the flyers handed out by your group.

It was nearing midday when you ran out of pamphlets. You stretched and pushed your hair away from your face, relishing in the feeling of sun against skin.

Your gaze drifted across the park’s patrons before settling on one that you had been watching since the beginning of your performance. He didn’t look up much. A sketchpad sat on his lap and tousled brown hair hung over his face. You hadn’t caught his attention once but he had certainly kept yours.

“Can you hand me another lot of flyers?” you asked one of the other girls with her.

She handed them over and you put on your best grin before making your way to the tree he was sitting under.

He looked up when your shadow fell over his sketchbook. His work was considerably abstract and nothing that you could identify with ease. There weren’t too many colors though.

“Hello!” you greeted cheerily. “I don’t mean to bother but what did you think of the show?”

He blinked up at you. “I didn’t see it.”

The man was a master of deadpan but you didn’t allow your smile to drop. You lowered the flyer and sighed, “That’s a shame. It’s so rare that we have attractive people at our shows… you should consider coming to our actual performances sometime. Everybody loves musicals.”

He didn’t even react to the compliment. No smirk or even a blush. It was as though you hadn’t spoken one word.

“I’ve seen your face before,” he said. “You do this kind of thing quite often. Don’t you get tired of people staring at you?”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t be in this line of business if I was too self-conscious. When they stare for too long, I like to imagine that it’s because I’m the most beautiful person they’ve ever seen.” Running your fingers through your hair, you offered him your most dazzling smile. “And if you remember me, that’s a certain compliment.”

“You can take it whatever way you want but it doesn’t mean anything.”

It was tempting to give up. Flirting with cute boys was only entertaining when they responded with… something. This boy just stared.

“So you’re an artist, right? You’d have a good point of view on whether or not I’m actually pretty.”

“My opinions on people are rarely accurate.”

His response made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. Something of a warning twisted in your stomach. A light had lit behind his eyes but it didn’t seem like something you wanted to tie yourself to.

It appeared it was time to give up your pursuit. “Well, I really should get going. Perhaps I’ll see you at the next performance.”

His eyes drifted to the pamphlet that you held. “Were you planning on giving me that?”

“Offering it but you don’t have to –“

“I’ll take it,” he said, putting down his pencil and holding out his hand. “Your show wasn’t too entertaining but I enjoyed watching the performance you just put on. Rather like a peacock strutting its feathers.”

So he wasn’t oblivious then… just teasing. You had no idea if it showed his genuine interest or if he was merely taunting now.

With a slight scowl, you passed it over. He tucked it into his sketchbook and then closed it, standing up. He was scrawnier than you had anticipated but he still had a considerable height – holding at least a few inches over you.

“Thank you,” you said.

He left without another word. You rolled your eyes and made a point to ignore any thoughts about him for the rest of the day. Perhaps you shouldn’t have given him your information… after all, that flyer had your full name and everything.

And you knew absolutely nothing about him.

Candy Pop

Hospitals were the worst places in the world.

They smelled too clean and looked too false. You generally avoided them as much as possible unless it was absolutely necessary. When a close family member found themselves locked within the walls, unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to stay away.

You wrinkled your nose as you walked into the room. The sterilized smell burnt you.

Most of it was what you had expected but the young, child-like scream made you jump and nearly drop every gift you were holding.

Your aunt jumped up from her chair beside the hospital bed. “What’s wrong?!” she asked, fussing over your cousin.

She was barely over eleven and had badly injured her leg during a biking competition. Your mom had told you that everybody in the family was going to visit her, encouraging you to go together in order to drop off some gifts.

“I’m sorry,” the little girl said quickly. “I don’t like balloons and I thought… it doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

You moved them behind you a little, trying to block her line of sight. “No, no, I should have asked first. You could have been allergic to latex or something and then I’d be feeling really bad about it.”

“She’s been particularly on edge thanks to these awful nightmares,” your aunt explained.

“Nightmares?” you asked.

The little girl seemed pale at its mention, pulling her blanket up to her nose and watching everybody wearily. “They’re just bad dreams,” she said. “You said that they couldn’t hurt me.”

Her mother hurriedly rubbed her shoulder and offered a warm smile. “They definitely can’t,” she reassured.

“Are they about the fall?” you asked.

“Sometimes.”

You settled down in one of the chairs as your own mother began speaking to her sister. They were able to discuss everything from the colour of grass to what they thought would be the best country to live in. You weren’t particularly interested in what they were saying and, after a while of trying to chirp in, you just let the lack of sleep catch up to you.

Your dreams came to you quickly, faster than usual and sharp in an uncomfortable sort of way.

You found yourself standing in a large field. The sky was grey and the grass tall enough to reach your knees. Everything felt bright. It hurt your eyes to stare at anything for too long.

Normally, dreams didn’t feel as such, but you were certain that this was one. There was no purpose to where you were. No inclination to walk in a specific direction or try to understand what was happening.

Just confusion.

You took a step forward and a soft wind wrapped around you. It brushed through the grass, dancing around the trees. Something was watching.

You turned and two, glowing lights floated above the ground.

Slowly, mist gathered around the two spots. As you stepped back, it began to solidify – quickly forming a more recognisable shape. The figure tilted its head to the side and a slight jingling sound filled the air. It stepped forward then and the glow faded from its eyes, revealing just what stood before you.

He was a jester, though certainly more modern than the old king’s versions. Blue hair hung around his shoulders and his entire outfit jingled with hundreds of bells. A smile graced his face and he stepped forward.

You moved away.

His smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. The mist appeared again and he vanished into it.

You looked around frantically. He was gone. The wind picked up unexpectedly, howling in your ears. You raised your hands to shield your face and something grabbed your wrist. Before you could turn to see, you hurdled away from the meadow and awoke spluttering for air.

“Are you alright?” your aunt asked.

In the corner of your eye, you swore you saw a blue jester but, when you turned to look, he was gone. “Yeah,” you said, rubbing your chest. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Your made eye contact with your cousin and swallowed thickly. The look on her face said it all.

Clockwork

Every night, without fail, you saw her sitting there when you arrived home from work.

She always wore the same thing and, initially, you had thought that she would play on her phone for hours at a time. It didn’t appear that she had a phone, however, as you came to realise. Whatever she was holding was circular and fit perfectly within the palm of her hand.

You mentioned it to the building manager the second time she was there until like two in the morning. He had said that they thought she was homeless but, as far as they could tell, she wasn’t dangerous. You reassured him that your worries weren’t about her presence due to any perceived problem but he had just nodded.

She never moved while she was waiting. Not even to adjust her weight or brush the hair from her face.

A few of your neighbours used the very eloquent reasoning that she was merely crazy.

Occasionally, you heard children from the area parroting their parents. Rumours abound that she was a ghost who would attack anybody if they spoke to her. You scoffed each time it was said but many believed the stories.

You were arriving home late one night when you spotted her sitting in the usual spot. It was strange for you to feel anything beyond exhaustion on the nights when hospital jobs ran too long but this time, a strange anticipation settled itself in your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Are you okay?”

Her hair was dirty and her coat looked as though it hadn’t been washed for years. Now that you were close, you could make out what appeared to be dried blood on her shirt.

“Go away,” she said, shaking her head from side to side.

“I have medical experience,” you responded. “And I know some good places to stay in the area. I can –“

“Good for you,” she sneered. “Leave me alone. You’re going to make me miss it.”

The object she was holding was an old pocket watch. It looked like something you would find in an antique store and pay insane amounts of money for. Though, it didn’t appear to be working. The clock hands sat at a set time and didn’t move in the slightest.

“I want to help you if that’s okay,” you said.

She forced out a laugh that sounded as though it physically pained her. “You want to help me?!” she cackled, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Isn’t that sweet.”

You stumbled away from her and clasped a hand over your mouth. Her face…

Her mouth was torn to pieces, jagged cuts that ripped through the skin there and had been crudely stitched back together. But that wasn’t the worst. No, the worst part of it was her left eye that had a pocket watch shoved into the socket and forcefully stitched there. The injury flared red with infection and pain.

“What’s wrong little doctor?!” she cawed. “No longer feeling like saving the poor girl you found on the side of the road?”

You steeled your resolve and straightened. “I’m still willing to offer help if you need it,” you said in your strongest voice. “That injury is severe and needs attending to if you want to save the eye.”

The eye was definitely gone and she knew it as well, scoffing at your offer. “No chance of that. Why do you people like pretending that you care?”

“I do care.”

She responded with a mocking expression and stood unexpectedly. “Sure you do.” She tapped the front of the pocket watch with her nail. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get to work. I nearly missed it thanks to your nagging. I’ll see you tomorrow, doctor.”

And she marched off into the night.

Dark Link

The vase that you were holding was beautifully polished and almost brand new. As you lifted it, something rattled around within.

“Why are you selling this for such a low price?” you asked.

The woman was middle-aged with a falsely high voice and bright, darting eyes. “It was a gift,” she said. “But I decided against keeping it. I wasn’t sure how low the price should be but it’s not like I’m losing any money.”

You decided against buying it, thanking her and walking away quickly. While you were looking through a few pieces of jewelry, your arm was grabbed and a small object pushed into your chest.

“Here you go!” you friend chimed. “Consider it to be a late birthday present!”

You took the game cartridge and examined it closely. “Zelda, again?” you asked. “I’ve already tell you that –“

“Yes, yes, I know that they’re not your thing but if you haven’t tried all the games then how are you meant to know there isn’t just one that you like?”

Sighing, you took the game and dropped it into your purse. It was dirty and definitely well used. A bit of black paint flaked off on your fingers.

Another game for you to keep in your cupboard and not look at again until months later when you were asked about your opinion on it. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t have the console you needed and the simple answer of ‘just buy one for cheap’ wasn’t always available.

But in the coming weeks, you quickly realised that this wasn’t just another game.

At first, the things that went wrong were too minor to even pay attention to. Electronics started breaking frequently until the point where you had replaced your stereo twice in a week and no longer had a television. After that, you started feeling sickly and uncomfortable whenever you were in the house. A feeling of imposing nature settled upon your shoulders.

You spent more time away from home, staying away for as long as you could. When you tried to dogsit for your brother, the pup wouldn’t even enter the house.

It was late at night when you woke up in a cold sweat. Nausea coiled in your stomach and your heart was beating at the speed of light.

At first, you had no idea what had woken you.

And then you heard the rattling.

It was coming from the next room over. As though somebody had taken hold of your desk and was shaking it as roughly as they could.

You scrambled for your phone but it wasn’t there. It was sitting in your office.

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped from your bed. Your head felt fuzzy, as though you weren’t able to wake up properly. Every step was slow and lethargic.

Stumbling toward the door, you gingerly grabbed the handle. As you opened it, your mind caught up with your body and you remembered that you shouldn’t just burst in on a potential invader.

But it was too late.

The person, for it had to be a person, stood in the middle of the room. Its body was so dark that it blended in with the shadows surrounding it. Two bright red eyes shone, illuminating enough that it showed some of the creatures ashen features. It had sharp features that were definitely human. Though as you stared at it, you knew that it was anything but.

It smiled and began turning into small squares, pixelating into the air and disappearing into something behind it.

You flicked on the light as fast as you could but it was gone. Sitting in the middle of the desk, the black cartridge seemed to emit its own darkness.

Dr. Smiley

The building was beyond restoration, crumbling and derelict. You were sure that it hadn’t been occupied for at least a decade. Perhaps even longer.

For months now, you had been going through the motions to have everything approved and organised. You had gotten clearance, hired the workers, discussed things with any neighbours, and even paid extra for the best machinery to get everything done quicker.

And now they were refusing to do anything.

“I’m sorry, and I will compensate for the time wasted, but my men are saying no,” the on-site manager said. “I know you’re not from these parts but we’ve always known there’s something wrong with this building. Rumours and superstitions abound and I wouldn’t blame my men for not wanting to anger a ghost.”

“They’ll be pissing off something far worse than a ‘ghost’ if they continue refusing to even go in there,” you snapped.

He glanced towards his workers and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once he left, you turned your attention to the house. Why anybody would have wanted a house in this location was beyond you but now that you had inherited it, you could see potential.

Although the entire place was probably crawling with all manners of disgusting flora.

Perhaps you could use that to get the health counsel to do the job for you.

They will still talking and you could see the weariness on their faces. Sighing, you stalked your way to the front door and pushed it open with one hand. It creaked with the effort.

You stood with your hands out towards the men. “I’m going to walk this entire house!” you called. “And if your ghost doesn’t accost me while I’m there, then I’m going to be expecting you to all get on with it, alright?”

Nothing immediately jumped at you when you entered. The door struggled to open and it swung shut on its own accord. If that was the haunting that they were talking about…

A roach skittered along the floor in front of you, darting under a derelict sofa stained with an unknown substance. Several of the windows had been broken so it wasn’t surprising to find that graffiti and markers had been used to etch various names into the walls.

You walked through a destroyed kitchen, passed a bedroom with a smashed crib, and even kicked open a door that led to a filthy storage room.

No ghost jumped out at you.

Problems started presenting themselves when you walked down one of the hallways and pushed open a bedroom door. The entire room felt set apart from the rest of the place with almost-new curtains that had been drawn shut. Blankets covered the bed, dirty but still there. You immediately thought somebody may be squatting there but your concerns changed when you noticed the wall.

Black mold. It crawled its way up the side, covering most of what had once been white wallpaper. You brought one hand up to shield your mouth and stepped out, slamming the door closed.

If there was an infestation then you had to get the health department immediately. This was –

Your thoughts were interrupted by something grabbing you. Panic filled your mind as a sharp weapon was pressed against your throat.

“Well now, I just know that you don’t have an appointment,” a voice said close to your ear. “I don’t like trespassers.”

Thinking on instinct, you threw your head backwards as hard as you could. There was a satisfying impact followed by a loud yelp of pain. The weapon around your throat moved away so you kicked the guy in the shin and bolted for it.

The house felt bigger while you were running but nobody came after you. You didn’t hear any footsteps or other sounds of a chase.

Bursting through the front door, you winced at the bright light. The house hadn’t seemed nearly that dark until compared to the outside.

You collided with one of the workers in your rush and nearly knocked everybody to the ground.

“What’s happened?”

“It was that ghost, I’m telling you.”

“We warned her, boss.”

You cleared your throat and straightened up, making eye contact with each man individually. “There is no ghost,” you said. “Only a squatter who I shall deal with using police force if needed. However, I do believe any construction will have to wait because I saw an excessive spread of black mold within the house.”

They all spoke amongst themselves, discussing options. You glanced back to the house and allowed your attention to find its way to the bedroom window. Though fleeting, a masked face peered out at you from within.

Eyeless Jack

In many ways, what happened that night was your boss’ fault.

Having just finished working a double shift that ended at almost 1 in the morning, you were exhausted upon returning home. You walked past the neighbouring apartment with only one thought on your mind – sleep.

It was then that you heard a thump coming from within the house, followed shortly by a muffled scream.

Tired, you had to pause to register what was happening and, by the time your brain caught up, your heart was in full-on panic mode. You slowly reached into your pocket and dialed the emergency number as slowly as you dared, whispering into the phone and being reassured that a police presence would be arriving shortly.

Your neighbour was a young man though, just out of rehab and beginning to make his way through life. The longer you stood and waited for the police, the guiltier you felt.

So you reached into the pot plant and pulled out his spare key. After a short while of building yourself up, you unlocked the door and crept inside.

It was dark with the outside world shrouded via heavy curtains. You could barely make your way through the unfamiliar apartment and you didn’t dare turn on the light. Damn, you were extremely tired.

Part of your brain suggested that you had imagined the whole thing. It was a byproduct of a sleep-addled mind or something. That would be embarrassing to explain to the police and to your neighbour. Would you get charged for breaking and entering or could you blame it on your tiredness?

Your doubts didn’t get much further than that because somebody grabbed you from within the room.

A horrible iron-filled scent attacked your senses as you took in the bedroom. It looked like your neighbour was tied to the bed though he wasn’t moving. Somebody stood behind you, their breathing heavy and their grip strong.

They pushed your wrist closer to your back, preventing you from wriggling free of their grip. A blade, small and yet sharp, pressed against the side of your throat.

“Trying to play the hero, are we?” snarled a voice. “Have you called the cops?”

The blade pressed against your skin and you quickly spat out a yes.

“Probably right before you came in, if not earlier… I’d have enough time to kill you but then you’d be an absolute waste. Nowhere to stash a body around here and they’d comb the entire area if you were missing…”

“I didn’t mean –“

You were shoved forward before you had a chance to react. In the dark, you couldn’t make anything out and you hit the wall unexpectedly. Now, far enough away, you turned and tried to make out the face of your assailant. He melded in with the shadows and you ran your fingers along the wall until you found a light switch.

The lights flickered on and you gasped.

He wore a dark blue mask, a black ooze dripping from the eye sockets and onto his hoodie. There was no reaction to the lights. Not even a blink.

“Don’t you want to beg for your life?” he asked. “The other one pleaded nearly constantly until I shut him up.”

“You killed him…”

“He isn’t dead, just unconscious,” the man scoffed. “I try to avoid killing them, if I’m able to.”

“The police will be here soon,” you warned.

“Oh I know. That’s the only reason that I’m leaving this very minute.” He made his way over to the window, never turning to stop facing you. The bedroom window slipped open without a sound and he began climbing out. “I’d keep my doors locked if I was you. Plenty of unsavory characters live in these parts.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Glitchy Red

Your younger cousin squealed excitedly, holding the game to her chest in joy. “I love it so much!” she said. “I can’t believe I used to think Pokémon was for babies. At first when the music randomly cut out, I did think it was super weird but I’ve gotten used to it now.”

“I don’t think it’s meant to do that,” you chuckled. “But cheap versions, you know?”

It was good to see that your last-minute gift hadn’t gone to waste. You had been worried that the present’s fun would be lost on your video game-hating cousin but she had actually decided to give the game a shot. Now you had somebody in the family to speak to which was extraordinarily exciting.

“What are you meant to say to Red when he asks you whether or not he’s a joke?” she aske unexpectedly. “I know that if you say no, he goes away, and I’ve been too scared to try the other option.”

You frowned. “I don’t actually remember that part of the game.”

“Really? But it happens so often.”

When she realised that you really hadn’t encountered anything like that in the game before, she told you to wait a minute and came back with her game.

“There was one around here,” she said, loading in. “Just give me a second and I’ll find it.”

You stayed much later than you had originally intended to that night. The two of you played through a lot of the game, waiting for the moment when Red would break the fourth wall and demand to know about your opinions on him.

It never came.

The game ran incredibly smoothly. It was quite odd. There weren’t any hiccups along the way nor horror-style glitches. The music didn’t even cut off which was apparently rare accourding to your cousin.

After a while, she sighed and handed it to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why it’s not breaking. I’ll go make us some food.”

You continued playing while she was gone, enjoying the memories that came with the game. It was as fun as you remembered until about five minutes after she left. The music just shut off unexpectedly and, no matter what you did, it refused to come back at all. Any other sound effects worked fine though.

“So you’re just programed to break when only one person’s in the room?” you joked.

Perhaps that was a bad choice.

Unexpectedly, a loud static erupted from the console, so ear-aching that it felt like your ears began to bleed. The game took on a horrible red tint and Red appeared on the screen, a dialogue box appearing beneath his blackened form.

AM I A JOKE TO YOU?

Horrified, you immediately shut down the game and threw the cartridge as far away from you as possible. You raced at full speed into the kitchen, nearly knocking several things over along the way.

“You have got to throw that game,” you wheezed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“There is something really fucked up with that game…” you said. “That thing with Red is absolutely not meant to happen. It felt like he was staring into my soul. You have to throw it out the moment you can. I will buy you another one but do not keep that.”

“Oh, alright,” she said, seemingly confused but nowhere as shaken as you were.

A faint static came from the living room, sending shivers down your spine.

Hobo Heart

Tears flowed down your face despite your best attempts to remain composed. “I’ve known for a while now,” you managed to say.

Your ex-boyfriend seemed shocked, though not entirely upset about your admission. “How long –“

“Since last week,” you said. “Though I’ve heard it’s been going on for considerably longer.”

He shifted his weight and took a deep breath. You recognised this behavior from the past, already hearing the words you knew were coming. The apologies and the false regret, the promises about not doing it again, and then the eventual guilt-tripping. If you heard the latter, you weren’t sure your resolve would hold.

“Goodbye,” you said firmly.

“Wait!”

You ignored the calls, making your way home at a steady place. A few people offered you concerned looks so you rubbed away the tears and took a few deep breaths.

Several months of your life had been completely wasted. You had put so much time and energy into a person who didn’t care one ounce about you.

Just great.

You turned onto your street and made your way to the house across from your own. The woman who lived there was always busy and she only came home to feed her dog before disappearing again. Thankfully, she trusted you to spend time with Bruno.

Bruno came racing over to the gate and jumped up for head scratches. He was a beautiful Afghan Hound with a dark coat and bright eyes.

“At least I know that you’ll always be by my side,” you said, running his fingers through the dog’s fur.

A tear slipped out and you quickly rubbed it away. You dug around in your bag and took out a couple treats, offering him.

A second bark brought your attention to the street.

Standing there, a small white dog with a scruffy coat stared up at you. It looked friendly enough and, after cautiously checking it out, you crouched down and gave it a treat.

“Hello,” you cooed. You gave the pup a few scratches and smiled. “How are you doing, hm? No collar? But you must have an owner because your coat is all groomed and soft. Did you get out or slip your leash?”

You looked around the streets to see if anybody. Nobody jumped out so you gave the dog another treat and brought it into the garden with Bruno to protect it from cars.

The two barked and played with little issue and you messages friends and family about the events of the day.

It was about half an hour later when the air was starting to get chilly. You stood and the small scruffy dog began barking excitedly. Its tail whipped through the air and it jumped up against the fence. A man wearing a white hoodie was standing down the street. You glanced at the dog, scooped it up and made your way to where he was.

“Excuse me,” you said. “I think that I found your dog.”

He turned to look at you and you startled slightly at his rather unusual face paint. A white skull was painted onto his face, similar to something you would see at a college convention.

He glanced down at the happy dog and sighed. “So that’s where he got to.”

“I’m sorry if you were looking for him. I took him off the street to protect him from any cars or anything.”

“It’s fine. He always shows up eventually,” the guy said. “You can just put him down. He’ll follow me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Then he turned and started walking away. You hurriedly put the dog down and it immediately bounded after him, falling into step directly beside him. They disappeared around a corner and you returned to your own house.

The day had gotten much warmer suddenly.

#creepypasta #scenarios #ben drowned x y/n #bloody painter #clockwork #dr smiley #eyeless jack x reader #hobo heart #dark link

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

comfort

Small drabbles of you comforting Toshi, Fatgum, and Gang Orca.

Sorry about the late upload. I wanted to get something out today, so I took a little extra time to finish this. Also, I hope you guys have a Happy New Year! Be safe if you’re doing anything tonight!

Yagi Toshinori

“Can we not watch this right now?”

“Uh, sure. Do you suddenly not enjoy The Evening Hero Gossip?” you asked. Toshi usually caught up on the city’s news and gossip as he wound down from his day. Right now, he was grimacing, subtly rubbing his side under the blanket. The small action caused regret over your taunting tone.

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything, sweetheart,” he falsely assured. His hand moved from his side to your thigh, giving it a loving pat. The weight still haunted his shoulders. It was identical to the weight he carried during his self-blaming, heavyhearted periods. “I’d rather watch a movie or something less bleak with dinner.”

You put the remote down, set aside your stir-fry, and faced him. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Toshi, I can tell something’s wrong. Did something happen today?” You nodded to his covered injury.

The fingers on your thigh clenched. He looked around the room, seemingly to find a way to move on. You cradled his hand and brought it to your lips. The kiss softened his stifling. Another one slumped his shoulders. A silent minute later, he sighed, “They said… One woman made a comment. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, and I know she wouldn’t intentionally insult me, but it was still discouraging.”

“What did she say?”

“They were talking about which Heroes are the most handsome, who’d be the best boyfriend, things like that.” He kneaded his eyes. You kissed his knuckles, knowing where this was heading. “One woman said I wasn’t much anymore since I lost my powers. She said I wasn’t attractive.”

“What?”

“Please, don’t get angry. She didn’t mean it. I’m sure… It was just one of those comets that blurt out before you realize how it could come across.”

“Did she at least apologize on Tv or social media or something?” The answer came as his hand retracting from yours and him sinking into the couch. You gently crawled onto his lap, letting him tuck into your neck. While you spoke, you brushed his hair, “Then it doesn’t matter her intentions. She needs to apologize. And I am angry at her.”

A faint laugh tickled your skin. Arms snaked around you, clasping behind to cling close. “You’re handsome, Toshi. You really are. I’m not just saying that cause we’re dating-” You kissed his forehead. “-Your jawline and eyelashes are worth killing for.”

His head lifted. “I thought you said my eyes were the best.”

“I did. They’re beautiful. But your jawline is just amazing,” you mumbled against the divine bone, sucking and nipping him. “Besides, you’re my boyfriend. That woman doesn’t get to see how sweet you are to me.”

His nose nudged yours. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I just love you. You’re caring and loving and attentive and thoughtful and empathetic-”

Toshi’s lips on yours silenced your complementing, breathing words of love back.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

“Hey!” you greeted Tai’s back.

He didn’t move when he responded with a lame ‘hey.’ No cheer or thrill heightened in his voice. It was incredibly odd, but gravely concerning too. Even after the hardest fights and longest days, he always acknowledged you with a love-filled smile.

You sat your bag on the counter. “Tai, are you okay?”

“I’m great.”

You plopped down beside him, stroking his arm, asking in a mellow tone to avoid being too pushy, “Are you sure?”

A brief film of water coated his eyes. Immediately, he blunk it away and nodded.

“Oh, baby.” Your fingers swept through his hair, running your nails along his scalp. He leaned into it. “Was it just a bad day?”

He nodded again.

You hopped up, offering your hands. “Come on.”

He grabbed them and stood, allowing you to lead him into the bedroom. You unzipped his sweatshirt. It flopped. The crinkly t-shirt was next, but you couldn’t reach high enough. With a small smile, he lifted it the rest of the way, revealing his belly and stretch marks. Hands shielded them as he laid on the bed. It gave you an inkling about his down mood.

You crawled up and smooched his cheek. He tried to return the kiss, but your lips drifted down his chin, landing on his sternum. You moved downward, seized his screening hands, and pleased them on his chest. Dark purple stria lined up his tummy from his pants, curving past his belly button.

“You’re so handsome, Tai.” You slowly kissed them. His stomach sucked in with a sharp inhale. He didn’t say anything while you praised the marks with your mouth. You took your time on each one. Softened, stretched skin lightly fluttered. Breaths gradually evened out, becoming accustomed to you.

In the silent room, you made your way up to his blushing smile, whispering again, “You’re so handsome.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled.

“Hmmm, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, come here.” He bundled you within his arms and blankets, reciprocating the many kisses.

Gang Orca

The apartment door opened to a dark, freezing living room. Not even candles or technology lights blinked. “Hey, Kugo, you home?”

No reply came. Certain he had beaten you home, you called his name a few times. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and walked through the rooms, failing to see him anywhere. You almost gave in and called his phone when a flash of his elbow poked out from the balcony window.

Quietly sliding the door ajar, Kugo came into sight, hunched over on the bench, holding his head in his hands. Piles of soggy paperwork stacked on the table. A bundle of pens acted as a paperweight. Though street lights poorly lit the deck, you could make out shaking shoulders from the billow and wet clothing from the clumping snowflakes.

“Kugo, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

“Did something happen?”

The nod of his head was barely perceptible.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer.

Hiding your sigh, you brushed the snow from him, removed the blanket from your shoulders, and draped it over his. Once he was covered, you softly spoke, “I’ll make you some tea, honey. I’ll be right back.” You kissed the top of his head, whispering before heading back inside, “I love you.”

While the water heated, you prepared two cups: green with milk for you and chamomile with honey for him. Then you bundled up in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and another blanket.

Kugo didn’t react when you returned or when you joined him on the bench. He stiffened at your presence. You didn’t comment, only extended the tea. “Here.”

A trembling hand accepted the steaming mug. A ‘thanks’ mumbled out.

“It’s no problem.”

The urge to scoot closer rose, but you weren’t sure if he’d want that. And he certainly wasn’t in the mood for conversing. A gust blew your blanket around. Both of you shivered. He shifted so your legs were touching. His hand laid out. Very, very slowly, you wrapped your fingers around two of his, tenderly, reassuringly squeezing them.

Once they curled, you snuggled close and said, “I love you, Kugo. I’m here for you.”

Kugo rumbled quietly amidst the wind, “Thank you.”

#all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines

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dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years

Text

Dutiful Sansa Stark

Plus some extra stuff about perceptions and POV traps

Read under the cut-

Tyrion

"No," Sansa said at once. "You . . . you are kind to offer, but . . . there are no devotions, my lord. No priests or songs or candles. Only trees, and silent prayer. You would be bored."

"No doubt you're right." She knows me better than I thought. "Though the sound of rustling leaves might be a pleasant change from some septon droning on about the seven aspects of grace." Tyrion waved her off. "I won't intrude. Dress warmly, my lady, the wind is brisk out there."

He was tempted to ask what she prayed for, but Sansa was so dutiful she might actually tell him, and he didn't think he wanted to know.

xxx

He wondered what Sansa would do if he leaned over and kissed her right now. Flinch away, most likely. Or be brave and suffer through it, as was her duty. She is nothing if not dutiful, this wife of mine. If he told her that he wished to have her maidenhead tonight, she would suffer that dutifully as well, and weep no more than she had to.

Littlefinger

A true daughter would not refuse her sire a kiss, so Alayne went to him and kissed him, a quick dry peck upon the cheek, and just as quickly stepped away.

"How . . . dutiful." Littlefinger smiled with his mouth, but not his eyes.

xxx

She hugged him dutifully and kissed him on the cheek. "I am sorry to intrude, Father. No one told me you had company."

"You are never an intrusion, sweetling. I was just now telling these good knights what a dutiful daughter I had."

"Dutiful and beautiful," said an elegant young knight whose thick blond mane cascaded down well past his shoulders.

That's a lot of dutiful.

On the surface it seems like these two situations- one with Tyrion and one with LF- parallel each other; creepy, older men interested in Sansa think she's too 'dutiful' because she suffers through their attentions. However, when we dig deeper it becomes clear that the two situations actually contrast in subtle ways.

Tyrion

Tyrion calls her dutiful, but what duty is she fulfilling? She actually fails to fulfil her biggest duty to him i.e. having his babies (ew).

Or rather, she refuses to do her duty to him.

"On my honor as a Lannister," the Imp said, "I will not touch you until you want me to."

It took all the courage that was in her to look in those mismatched eyes and say, "And if I never want you to, my lord?"

His mouth jerked as if she had slapped him. "Never?"

Cue me falling ever deeper in love

This is a powerful scene. Tyrion is willing to give her an inch, but she goes and takes a mile. She could have just said "yes, I'll let you know when I want you" and then never let him know, but instead she said that. His plan was to postpone the consummation, but now she’s taken the opportunity to tell him that if she had her way, they would never consummate their marriage. He can still go through with it, but with this one statement (knowingly or unknowingly) she's put the onus of choice on him. He can still touch her, he can still consummate the marriage- but Sansa will never want him to. It’s still her ‘duty’ to suffer through it, but now any future sexual contact between them is undoubtedly in the non-con category.

That doesn't sound like Sansa is just reluctant to do her duty, it sounds like she's rejecting it.

In fact, Sansa is basically never shown to think about her 'duties' as his wife. Eating lunch with him may be her 'duty', but she isn't doing it for that reason. She's doing it because what other choice does she have?

Honestly I'm not sure where he even gets the idea that she's oh-so-dutiful, because as far as I can tell, she's really just doing the bare minimum she can get away with doing as his political-prisoner-child-bride.

Sansa does not, for a single second, give a flying fuck about her duty to Tyrion and I love her for it.

And yet, Tyrion's my-dutiful-wife false belief is what allows her to get away with planning her escape. Tyrion fails to be suspicious of her even when he absolutely should be re: that first quote.

So-

Tyrion likes to think Sansa is dutiful (for some reason).

Sansa is not dutiful.

Sansa doesn't seem to be aware that Tyrion thinks she is, but it works to her advantage nevertheless.

Littlefinger

Now in Littlefinger's case she really is playing the dutiful daughter.

This time, fulfilling her 'duty' as his daughter is in her best interest, because it acts as an excuse to avoid what he really wants from her. It's basically the reverse of the Tyrion Situation.

So-

Littlefinger thinks Sansa is dutiful because she is.

She's acting dutiful on purpose (to diffuse his sexual attraction (ew) towards her).

Clearly, it's working to her advantage.

Now, onto the extra stuff-

We have this-

Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?"

"Joffrey and his mother say I'm stupid."

"Let them. You're safer that way, sweetling.

xxx

"The g-g-godswood, my lord," she said, not daring to lie. "Praying . . . praying for my father, and . . . for the king, praying that he'd not be hurt."

"Think I'm so drunk that I'd believe that?" He let go his grip on her arm, swaying slightly as he stood, stripes of light and darkness falling across his terrible burnt face. "You look almost a woman . . . face, teats, and you're taller too, almost . . . ah, you're still a stupid little bird, aren't you?

xxx

"There's to be so much, my lord. I have a little tummy." She fiddled nervously with her hair and looked down the table to where Joffrey sat with his Tyrell queen.

Does she wish it were her in Margaery's place? Tyrion frowned. Even a child should have better sense.

Sansa goes under the radar so well in KL because people think she's too stupid to do anything. Again, we see Tyrion, an overall smart guy, fail to be suspicious of Sansa's very suspicious behavior nevermind that she IS a child you asshole because he thinks she's stupid.

So-

People think Sansa is stupid

She's not stupid. We also don't see Sansa actively encouraging that perception, which makes sense because-

she doesn't need to. They do that all by themselves and

she's too busy believing she really is stupid, poor kid

3. It works to her advantage anyway.

Which leads me to-

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

xxx

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle.

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf."

xxx

"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."

So-

People thinking Sansa murdered Joffrey with her witchy wolf ways.

She didn't.

???

I am SO looking forward to see where this goes.

More extra stuff-

This entire post grew out of me obsessing over this post.

It got me thinking that out of the six core characters, Sansa is the most observed one. We see her in real time through the chapters of other POV characters the most. I counted. My count can be up or down by about one or two chapters, but I have Sansa pegged at around 15 chapters, followed by Tyrion at 11, then A*ya (around 9), then Jon (around 8), then Bran (4), and then D*ny (0). This is exacerbated by the fact that Sansa has some of the least number of POV chapters of the 'core six'. This means that-

We see Sansa more (or at more than others) from other POVs than her own. In other words, we get to be in Sansa's head less and in other characters' head thinking about her more (unlike most other main characters).

This plays a BIG ROLE in her POV trap, which is pretty much the opposite of D*ny's POV trap in terms of both what it is hiding and how

Perception and reality play a very obvious and direct part in Sansa's story, both her own perceptions and others' perceptions of her.

The Vale arc changes everything though. Now suddenly-

She's surrounded by an entirely new cast of people

She's the only POV character in the location

She has an entirely new identity with none of the same pre-conceived biases attached (though there sure are other pre-conceived biases that go with her identity)

This has happened with other characters as well (Tyrion in ADWD, Arya in every other book), but the impact it has on our perception of her is unique. It's basically reversing everything her POV trap was previously built on.

Now, she is her own worst critic. Now, the thoughts that other POV characters have of her (Tyrion, Cersei) are increasingly muddled. Is she a murderous sorcerer, or a stupid little girl? Was she dutiful, or a scheming traitor? The correct answer is-

she was none of those things. Everyone is just....trapped by their own PoV?

#sansa stark #meta #anti sanrion #anti littlefinger

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infraaa · 3 years

Text

An OC Introduction:

Andrei Rassmussen

Technological Information

Name ~ Andrei Rassmussen

Japanese Signature ~ アンドレイ・ラスムッセン

Chinese Signature ~ 安德烈·拉斯穆森

Russian Signature ~ Андрей Рассмуссен

Other Names ~ Candyman (Locals of Snezhnaya,) Sweet Sir (Locals of Mondstadt,) Andy (Klee) Cutie (Lisa)

~~~~

Biological Information

Sex ~ Male

Pronouns ~ He/Him and They/Them

Orientation ~ Bisexual

Nation ~ Snezhnaya

Affiliation ~ Fatui (Formally)

Constellation ~ Scorpius Antares

Age ~ 25

Birthday ~ 8 November

Star Sign ~ Scorpio

Blood Type ~ B-

Height ~ 6’1” - 185 cm

Weight ~ 191 lbs - 87 kg

Ethnicity ~ Eastern Caucasian (Russian Descent)

Skin Tone ~ Fair

Body Type/Shape ~ Muscular Build, Hourglass Shape

Eye Color ~ Light Blue

Hair Color/Length ~ Black, mid length, straight, sits at his mid back

~~~~

Description

Andrei Rassmussen is a young man from Snezhnaya— a snowy nation of Teyvat. While living there, he worked for the Fatui as a Harbinger. However, after discovering that Signora was part of the Harbingers, he left the Fatui, as well as leaving Snezhnaya afterward. Be now resides in Mondstadt, the city of freedom. Because of his deeds as a Harbinger, he is monitored by Jean and the other Knights of Favonius, even though he generally means no harm. He is characterized as a Ladies Man of sorts, being seen as very attractive in both Snezhnaya and Mondstadt. Liking to playfully flirt with the local women within the city of freedom, he was never really all too serious with his advances. Ladies of Mondstadt urge him to join the Knights. Knowing what it was like back in his own nation with the Fatui and his own experiences against the Knights of Favonius, he refuses out of the fear of being outcasted because he’s foreign to them.

~~~~

Andrei is an Electro user with a Catalyst.

Skills

Name: Thundering Benevolence

Type: Normal Attack

Deals Electro DMG - hits nearby enemies 4 times.

Charged: Consumes a small amount of Stamina after releasing a short burst of energy in all directions.

Plunging: Upon hitting the ground, AoE damage is dealt as electricity flows through the ground, shocking nearby enemies for 3 seconds.

Name: Conduct

Type: Elemental Skill

Deals Electro DMG - All nearby opponents are affected by his elemental skill. Depending on Domino Effect/Conductive Status of stacks applied, great amounts of damage can be dealt.

Press: Lassos in four enemies in his direction, shocking them into a pile within a small AoE. Applies a Conductive Stack to the lassoed portion (4 Stacks Maximum)

Hold: After an extended casting time, he lassoes in eight enemies, dragging others along with that group, paralyzing them with electricity. Clears enemies’ vindictive status and replaces it with a Domino Effect. (32 quick hits per enemy)

Name: The Grace of the Sova

Type: Elemental Burst

Summoning his pet owl, Lednik, he herds the enemies within the radius in one area, continuously letting out shockwaves from the current that he flies in for as long as he’s there. Increases Andrei’s speed and DEF while fighting.

~~~~

Relationships

Tartaglia/Childe

Andrei knew Childe before he moved to Mondstadt. He used to work with him in regards to the Fatui. He usually preferred to work alone, however, when tasked with Childe, he couldn’t help but feel like he would have a good time. Since Childe is a Hydro user, they both get things done quite quickly. He hasn’t seen Childe in some time though. The last time he saw Childe was through an exposition in Liyue Harbor. They’re on good terms and treat each other well.

Signora

Signora is the eighth of the Fatui Harbingers. No one really knows if they have a past with each other, but Childe suspects that they do. People speculate that their families have known each other, and Signora has maybe done something to warrant Andrei’s distaste for her.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche and Andrei don’t click at all. Childe has suggested to him that he give the little harbinger a chance. However, the fact that he’s just too two faced and cunning hits him different. He’s never liked Scaramouche, saying that he “talks too much and doesn’t know when to throw they key away.” Andrei refuses to affiliate with Scaramouche because of his mindset.

Lisa Minci

She was the first person that he met when arriving in Mondstadt. She thought that he was just sweet and everything else, offering him a place at the Library. He would’ve taken it had it been for the Knights and their prying eyes. He likes her attitude on certain situations; where she can be oh so nice, and than oh so scary the next. They work well for each other, being both electro users, they’re able to shake strongholds to the ground. Think, if Lisa was Mommy Mearest from Friday night Funkin, than Andrei is Daddy Dearest. 💜🤍

Klee

A young girl from the Knights, she looks up to Andrei, even though he may not agree with the Knights that much. His hair is soft, and Klee likes that. She also likes the fact that he’s comparable to Kaeya, and she likes him too. He also takes a liking to Klee because of her innocence. She’s just a little girl, what is there not to like? Her chaotic streak is hard to resist too because she just laces it up in vanilla, and it’s just too good to be true in his eyes. He’s taken care of her in many occasions for the knights, and she has always come out fine.

Kaeya Alberich

Andrei is almost certain that Kaeya is hiding his identity. To try and uppercut him, he infiltrated his office and snuck into his desk to see if he could find anything pertaining to him. Aside from detailed profiles and plans for Khaenri’ah, which he took pictures of, he found nothing. He believes that Kaeya is shady because he has “too much to hide for his own good,” and that, “he shouldn’t lie too much.” Kaeya is the man that keeps track of him the most, watching to make sure that he stays passive. They bump shoulders periodically, but they generally don’t mean any harm to each other.

Diluc Ragnvindr

Diluc is even more watchful of Andrei than Kaeya is. He was once part of the Fatui, and knowing the Knight’s history with them, he helps Jean with monitoring his nightly activity around the city of freedom. Little do they interact because Andrei doesn’t really agree with Diluc’s uptight nature, but they can agree on some things, like Kaeya for example. They generally get along, and in rare cases, they can be very compatible if Diluc loosens up for once.

Jean Gunnhildr

A serious worker, she doesn’t fully trust Andrei, but she trusts him enough to ensure herself that he’s not hostile. He loves her. He takes pleasure in teasing her because he loves to see her nervous and crumbling down with her usually shy and touch starved nature. Jean however doesn’t usually take too kind to this, as she doesn’t like the fact that he teases her and blushes like a tsundere over it. She has Kaeya keep the main tabs on him and report to her if he finds anything suspicious that requires her attention. When interacting, aside from the playful flirting, they can indeed get along. Jean has seen that Andrei also has good interactions with Barbara, with their share of their liking for music. This is also enough to ensure that Andrei isn’t that bad of a person, albeit he has his faults at times.

Trivia

His special dish is Crystal Shrimp.

He knows Russian, Chinese, and German.

He favors his right hand in battle, while he writes with his left.

He gets seasick easily, and he prefers to drive cars because of this inference and the belief that he may also believe that he also gets carsick easy.

Whenever he’s in Liyue, he keeps an eye on Hu Tao. He just likes to watch her be her cute self.

He identifies as an INFJ-A with an enneagram of 8w9.

The other harbingers speculate that he got his vision through Signora, speculating that they also had a past similar to that of Kaeya and Diluc. He, nor Signora, have confirmed this.

Some of the ladies around Mondstadt are jealous of Lisa and Jean because of how Andrei treats them.

He doesn’t do well in extreme heat. This is because of the fact that he was born in Snezhnaya and he’s accustomed to cold weather.

He has a pet fox named Lance. He doesn’t know where he came from, but people speculate that he was a gift from an archon. He finds this to be false because he claims he found him on Mount Hulao.

He does very well with children, as seen with Klee, and has even claimed that when he chooses to settle down with someone and has a child, he would very much love to have a daughter.

Extending off of that, that’s why he caters and cares for Klee so much.

His speaking voice is Austin from KrimsonTV.

#genshin impact #genshin oc #genshin impact Andrei #oc #my oc #genshin impact fatui #fatui oc #infra’s cast #infrawrites

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arknights-imagines · 3 years

Note

Hi, Merry Christmas! Could you do the christmas letter and gift for Flamebringer, please. Thank you.

From, Flamebringer

Christmas Letter and Gift event

While the greenhouse probably wasn't the best place to nap on a cold Holiday evening, you still managed to fall completely asleep on one of the benches inside after assisting a certain Sarkaz with the flowers.

You awoke to see that the light flurries of snow that outside had turned into a rather intense blizzard - so much for going back to your room; considering how long the walk back to the base was from the greenhouse, there was no way you’d be able to travel back in weather like that. With a sigh, you sit up; but when you move to stand your attention is attracted to a thin sheet of worn paper folded into a small square that you find sitting on the bench next to you.

It definitely wasn't there before - someone must’ve placed it there while you were sleeping. Eyes shining with curiosity, you take it in your hands, flipping it in between your fingers. As you unfold the paper, the soft scent ash along with, oddly enough - the familiar perfume of flowers glide your way.

Just by the distinctive fragrance that wafts from the letter, you already form a surmise regarding the identity of its sender; and paragraphs hand written in pencil that fill the paper only confirm what you were thinking.

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

Blossom.

Forgive me for not staying with you until you awoke; my attention was needed elsewhere, Besides, the greenhouse is a much calmer place when it’s empty, wouldn't you say? I would hate to rob you of your rest.

All the snowfall outside recently...it reminded me that a traditional Holiday is nearing. Christmas, was it? Rhodes Island has changed for this time of year; the air is lighter, the people smile, the garlands and ornaments almost make one forget that, even in jubilant times like these, tragedy is always with them. I don't care much for puerile celebrations like these. The bliss Christmas may bring you disappears in a blink, and then you’re reminded that the world around you is racing toward a very bloody fate.

Ahh, or I suppose that’s the way I used to think.

This Christmas and all its traditions remind me very strongly of you, blossom. Like a lone flower growing out from under a barren battlefield, you emanate hope and safety, and though I know the feeling of security you fill me with is false, I cherish it. Unlike Christmas or any other Holiday, you are timeless. A flower that does not wither.

Before we crossed paths, I had no interest in relationships. When annihilation nears, when your life is about to be taken, what good will many loved ones do? Maybe for those who wish for a legacy, how many people will remember them after they die matters more than anything else. It was never like that for me. I believed love was something I would never feel. I believed that I would think of no one's face before I died. But now…

When I imagine myself under someone else's blade, ready to let them take my life, you occupy every thought that goes through my mind. Once I’m gone, what would happen to you? Would you grow enraged? Would you be stricken with sorrow? Would you still visit the greenhouse? Would you still wear that tender smile I enjoy waking up to everyday?

I have no intention of running from death. I have waited for my demise for a very long time now, and with every year that passes, my days alive become less and less. Death will find everyone with time - trying to escape it is just a waste of time. And yet...huh. And yet.

Blossom, [name]. Even though I am ready to die, I find my chest filling with pain when it dawns on me that my end will mean I will never be able to stand by your side again.

Don’t misunderstand me - I don’t dream of a domestic life. I don't dream of a life where I celebrate Christmases. I simply dream of a life with you. A life where neither of us ever fade.

Where my life may take me, when it may end - I don't care. But I do care for you, with every inch of my being. I’ve told you that already, right?

My blossom, this warmth and compassion you somehow manage to spark in me belongs only to you - so, do what you must. I will walk with you down any path you choose, may it be one that leads to a field of brilliantly blossoming flowers or a sea of blood. My memory is very good - even after I pass, even if someday you grow to hate me, every moment I spend with you is one I will hold close to my heart.

With all that being said....do you care for the Holidays and their rituals? Blossom, this might disappoint you, but us Sarkaz don't even bother celebrating birthdays, so if you think I’ve ever celebrated Christmas I’m afraid you're sorely mistaken. Even so, if you find joy in partaking in Christmas traditions then I’ll join you in doing so. I have no interest in it, but any opportunity to cherish your smile or your shining eyes is more than worth my time.

Yeah, the jingling melody and the sweet scent the air brings with it - Christmas is lingering still. I’m not sure how long it will stay, but like anything benevolent in life, it’s worth enjoying it while we still can.

That medic, Perfumer - she told me gift giving is a Christmas tradition. I don’t have anything to give you that’s meant for the Holidays, but I do have something for you. I haven’t purchased anything like it before, so whether it’s of good quality or high value, I don't know. When I saw it from the window of the shop, I thought it would suit you nicely. I don't need anything in return, but if you wish to get me something because it’s Christmastime, then go right ahead.

[name], my blossom - I love you. I may lack wealth or materialistic things to shower you with this Christmas, but my heart is yours. No matter what happens, remember that for me, won’t you?

Flame

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

The letter looks so simple, so easy to discard because of the condition it's in; and yet the words that fill it are a complicated web of Flamebringer’s emotions and what you truly mean to him. You bite the inside of your cheek, holding back a smile as a fluttery feeling rushes through your chest. You look back outside; now the blizzard outside truly does frustrate you - with it in the way, you can't go and find him.

Before you can get too upset at the weather, you notice a small white box that had been underneath the letter. Your heart fills with warmth again; that was right, Flamebringer had mentioned he got a gift for you.

You tuck the letter in your pocket, then your fingers carefully open the box. A sparkle fills your eyes at what lays inside; a necklace of silver, bearing a charm of a flower. You stare at it in awe for a few seconds, where did Flamebringer find this? You would have to ask him whenever you finally got to see him.

When you remove the piece of jewellery from its box, you realize - upon closer inspection - that the charm is of a red carnation. All the lessons Flamebringer gave you come rushing back to you, and you remember the meaning of said flower very well; love.

The grin that comes to your face is one of unrestrained exuberance, and the warmth and butterflies that fill your stomach is a stark contrast to the harsh, chilling snow just outside the greenhouse.

A note is the last thing in the little box; as you expected, Flamebringer’s penmanship is on the paper slip. ‘Merry Christmas blossom. The gift, the flower charm - surely I don't need to spell out it’s definition for you.’ As always, he never fails to make you feel like the most special person in all of Terra, even if that's not his intention, ‘When you smile, when you laugh, when we embrace...just for a second, I think about retiring my blades and devoting the rest of my life to you. Right now, I can't make the choice to abandon the battlefield forever, but don't worry yourself.’ And though those words may be a little disheartening especially because it’s the Christmas season, they don't cause you to feel even the slightest bit sad, ‘Even when I am away, trust me when I say there isn't a day I spend without you in my thoughts.’

#i didnt have time to edit this so please excuse any mistakes! 😭🥺#arknights #arknights imagines #arknights flamebringer #arknights x reader #flamebringer arknights #arknights imagine #arknights writing #arknights fanfic #arknights fanfics #christmas event #imagine #imagines #writing

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youreacowgirllikeme · 3 years

Text

Serendipity

note: this story is inspired by how I, when I traveled to DC, picked up the wrong suitcase at the airport. I obviously didn’t meet Jake in the process, but it was still pretty memorable. (actually it was a fckn nightmare, but I can laugh about it now) anyway, here’s some nerdy Jake for you, enjoy :)

pairing: Jake Tapper x female Reader

words: 4.8 k

warnings: swearing, mild smut, questionable star wars references (blame my bf, those are his takes)

serendipity

/ˌsɛr(ə)nˈdɪpɪti/

noun

1. the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way

“Cmon, open, you stupid thing.” You muttered, fumbling with the lock of your suitcase. You were supposed to be at the job interview in only three hours and you needed to get ready and change into professional attire soon. But said outfit was in your suitcase and the lock was obviously jammed.

Against your better judgement, you started rummaging through your small hotel room in search of something to break the lock with. The rational part of your brain knew that this wasn’t necessarily a good idea, but you were desperate. This job was the opportunity of a lifetime and you’d be damned if you turned up there looking anything but your best.

You finally found a small knife hidden in a drawer of the wardrobe. You didn’t even want to think about how it got there, but you couldn’t afford to be picky now. You tried sticking the blade between the two pieces of the lock, when you suddenly realized something. The luggage tag was dark green. This wasn’t your suitcase. Fuck.

You were on your feet in a second, taking your phone and calling the airport hotline. You needed this handled, fast. You described the situation in all its direness to a pretty unimpressed lady from the service hotline. She told you that there hasn’t been any luggage left behind that fit the description, which could only mean that whoever the owner of the suitcase in your hotel room was, they likely made the same mistake and took yours home with them. You mentally slapped yourself for buying that unremarkable black suitcase, thinking that should’ve gone for red or another flashy color instead.

“You still have to come back to the service terminal and hand over the luggage item you falsely took with you, ma’am.” The woman told you, still sounding terribly bored. Her job probably wasn’t the most exciting one.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You quickly hung up, grabbing the suitcase in question as well as your purse before sprinting out of the door. You hailed the first cab you saw in front of your downtown DC hotel.

“To the airport and make it fast please.” You told the driver the second you got into the backseat, dumping the suitcase between your legs.

Lucky for you, traffic was flowing and the trip to the airport didn’t take too long, but you still checked the time every two seconds, your fingers thrumming nervously against the cab window.

Finally at the airport, you threw the money at the cab driver before jumping out of the car and running into the terminal, your eyes scanning the giant hall for the luggage service desk. The second you spotted it; you made your way over. Getting closer, you couldn’t ignore a deep, aggressive voice sounding over the usual buzz of the arrival hall.

“No, ma’am, no you listen to me now. This suitcase is of tremendous importance, the documents in there are incredibly valuable. I want it to be taken care of right now.”

The voice belonged to a man standing in front of the service counter, and judging by the way he was gesticulating, he was pretty angry. But what really drew your attention to the guy was what was next to him. Your suitcase. You ran towards it, dragging its identical twin behind you.

“Sir, excuse me, I think we both have something the other person could be interested in.” you panted, slightly breathless from running.

The man whirled around to face you, and for a moment you were totally struck by how handsome he was. He appeared to be several years older than you, but his grey hair, tall stature and commanding presence made for a really attractive appearance. Also, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you had seen him before, but you couldn’t place him for the life of you. He looked at you for a brief moment before his eyes shot to the piece of luggage next to you.

“Oh, thank god.” He exclaimed, and almost yanked the suitcase out of your hands. "Next time, watch out whose luggage you’re taking.” He snapped. That’s rich, you thought, as if he hadn’t picked up the wrong one as well.

"Hey, no need to be rude.” You muttered, but he didn’t hear you, he was already back to talking the woman behind the service counter,hopefully explaining that everything was solved now and saving you some time. Your own suitcase was still standing next to the stranger, so you decided to just take it.

“You both still need to fill out this form, Ma’am, Sir.” The woman said, and both of you groaned but complied. After hastily scribbling down your details, you bid the lady goodbye and ran back to the cab rank.

The clock was ticking, you still had to get back to the city to make it to your interview in time. A quick look onto your watch confirmed your fears, it already was too late to go back to the hotel, you had to change in a restroom somewhere. You contemplated and decided to take a ride back into the city first and find an opportunity to change there before the commuters would block the freeway.

A cab was pulling up and you already made your way over when suddenly, the man who took your suitcase cut you in line and opened the door of the car. You were not having that, raising your voice to call him out.

“Hey, Mister, that was my cab. You better get in line.”

“I’m in a hurry, I have to be on air in an hour.” He snapped back, but you were unimpressed.

“You could be needed in the damn White House in an hour for all I care, I have a job interview, and this is my cab, so step back.” You were usually a patient person, but this guy has been testing you too much already. He raised his hands in a mock defensive gesture before speaking up again.

“Maybe we could split the cab. Where do you need to go?”

“CNN headquarters.” You replied reluctantly, it wasn’t like where you were headed was any of this mans concern.

“Interesting, that just happens to be my destination as well.” The stranger mused, now grinning at you. “So, how does splitting the cab sound?”

You begrudgingly agreed and sat down next to him in the backseat. As the engine started going, so did the wheels in your head. He had said that he had to be on air, and he needed to get to CNN as well. Oh…

“What did you say your name was again?” you asked, nervousness now fairly evident in your voice.

“It’s Jake. Tapper.” He said, mockingly extending his hand.

Well Shit. That’s why his face has been so oddly familiar.

You quickly introduced yourself as well, awkwardly shaking the offered hand. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with those glasses.” You added meekly, feeling like dying of mortification. As it happened to be, the position you were aiming for was with the politics department of CNN, and while Tapper wasn’t your potential boss, he definitely was a big shot, being the lead Washington Anchor and everything. Great first impression.

“So, you said you have a job interview at CNN?” he asked, a hint of smugness in his voice. He could clearly sense your embarrassment. “Which department?”

You were definitely blushing now. “Politics.”

"Oh, well best of luck then, hopefully we’ll be colleagues soon.” He said, and you couldn’t make out if he was being serious or just messing with you.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, you checked the notes you prepared for the interview one last time and if the man next to you was aware of what you were doing, he didn’t care, eyes glued to the screen of his phone. His presence did nothing to calm your fluttering nerves, your leg was twitching like crazy, and he noticed.

“Settle down.” He said quietly without looking up from his phone. His deep voice had a soothing effect, calming you for a brief moment.

When the cab pulled up in front of the CNN building, Jake got out first and held the door for you. Your nervousness came rushing back with a vengeance as you laid eyes on the big red sign over the entrance.

“When you get in, it’s the first elevator on the right, 5th floor.” Jake said, giving you a sharp nod before disappearing into the crowd filtering in and out of the huge glass doors. He could’ve at least said goodbye, you thought.

You quickly made your way inside, there was only half an hour remaining and you still had to find a spot to change, preferably one with a mirror because you certainly looked wild after all that running around. Luckily, there was a spacious restroom right next to the elevator and after you put on your work attire and a bit of makeup, you felt slightly better equipped for the task ahead of you.

+++

The interview went incredibly well, so well that you did a little happy dance on your way back to the elevator, the relief and hope for getting the job putting a pep in your step.

You rode back down to the lobby, where you decided to treat yourself with a nice caramel Frappuccino from the coffee cart. You were just about to get your purse out to pay when a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“Here, let me get this. And a black coffee please.”

Jake Tapper stepped up beside you and put the required money on the counter. He looked like he had just come off air, there was still a smudge of studio makeup on the collar of his dress shirt, and his hair was meticulously styled.

Again, his presence was slightly unsettling to you, even more so with him being in his anchor attire. Before you could reply anything, he grabbed your cup, which was almost overflowing with whipped cream and syrup, from the barista and handed it to you with a slightly disgusted expression on his face. “I wanted to pay for this atrocity of a beverage to make up for my rude behavior earlier, but now I’m doubtful if I’m really doing you a favor.”

“To be quite honest, I pity you for drinking black coffee while I can enjoy this.” You replied, taking a deep sip of the drink, sighting as its delicious sweetness covered your tongue. “But thank you.” You added. “Everything is forgiven, you were just as stressed out as I was.”

Jake watched you with an unreadable expression for a moment before he opened his mouth again. “Still, my apologies. The documents in the suitcase were of a very delicate nature, a source gave them to me, they could’ve caused quite some trouble in the wrong hands.” He paused for a moment, as if he was thinking of how to continue.

“Anyway, how did the interview go?” he asked, his voice bare of any teasing now.

“It went pretty well, I’d say. They told me I’m going to hear from them in about a week, which is good, that way I’d still have another three weeks to pack up my life in Phoenix and move here should they offer me the position.”

“Phoenix, huh.” Jake remarked, taking a sip from his own coffee. “That’s a long way. What made you decide to apply for a job that would require you to move all across the country?”

“Phoenix is great, but its Phoenix, you know. Things are different down there, slow-paced, you always feel like you’ll never be on the frontline, especially when it comes to covering politics. And DC is where the magic happens, so it was the only logical choice for me.” You replied.

“Well, I can’t argue with that. But make sure you’ll bring a coat with you should you get the job, compared to Phoenix, DC is artic.” Jake noted, the glint of humor making his eyes appear warm and open. He really looked handsome when he smiled, you noticed, there were little wrinkles around his eyes and his teeth were perfectly straight and white.

“I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m sure I’ll find something to keep myself warm once I’m here.” You said, looking directly at him. Somehow, this man brought out your flirtatious side.

He chuckled again, a low and pleasant sound. It sounded downright sexy, and you could feel a small shiver going down your spine. He and reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a pen. He scribbled something onto one of the paper napkins that had come with your coffee order and handed it to you.

“If you get the job, just contact me and I’ll make sure you have every amenity you need to properly settle in.” he said, and by now he was blatantly flirting with you, something you did not mind at all.

“I’ll be sure to stay in touch, Mr. Tapper.” You spoke. “But I have to run now. Thanks for the drink.”

“Goodbye, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m looking forward to giving you the grand tour on your first day here. And it’s Jake, please.”

+++

You got the job. The next weeks were a blur of goodbyes, moving boxes and apartment hunting. You barely had a moment to breathe, and it was only when you packed your final stuff into your black suitcase that you remembered Jake Tapper, and that you were supposed to contact him. You had kept the napkin with his number in your purse, and when you fished it out and dialed, your heart sped up, fluttering like a bird inside your chest.

You hung up before even hearing the first ring. What you were trying to achieve with this call? He had been clearly flirting with you back in DC, and now you were about to start working for the network he basically was the face of. And yes, he was funny and attractive, but getting tangled up with the big star before you even got a foot in the door there didn’t sound like the best idea.

You decided to let it slide. Your career came first now, you had worked too hard to let a fling get in the way of that.

+++

The first day was a crazy whirlwind of impressions and faces, and when you finally settled into your little secluded work booth, you felt a tad overwhelmed by all the input. You were about to set up a little framed picture of your parents, when you felt someone approaching your desk. Before you could turn around, a coffee cup was placed in front of you, filled to the brim with whipped cream and all kinds of toppings and syrup.

“I didn’t remember your exact order, so I just requested the one that looked the most repugnant.” A deep voice said from behind you, and your heart started beating faster. It was Jake Tapper. “You didn’t call.” He stated. “I had to find out through the grapevine that you got the position.”

“Thank you for the coffee, this actually looks perfect. And I’m really sorry for not calling, the last weeks have been crazy, I just forgot.” You lied, trying to look as apologetic as possible.

He leaned onto the edge of your desk, his arm crossed in front of his chest. He looked really good, still in his casual clothes, his hair falling into his face. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and the look he was giving you was so intense that you felt your palms starting to get sweaty. You felt your resolve not to get involved with him crumble more with every minute in his presence.

“No offense taken.” He said, and the timbre of his voice made goosebumps break out on your arms. “Unfortunately, it’s already too late for me to give you the office tour. But let me make it up to you. Drinks, tonight after work?”

You decided to have some of fun with him, he was acting a bit too self-assured for your liking. You stretched your arms out above your head and let out a yawn. “Today was so busy, I just need to go home and get some sleep. But how about you ask me later again that week, maybe I’ll be free then.”

For a brief moment, Jakes eyes were transfixed on your thin blouse stretching over your chest, just like you intended. There was a voice in the back of your head, screaming at you to stop acting stupid and turn the man down. But you ignored it, he was too intriguing, too alluring to just send him away.

Jakes eyes snapped back to your face.

“I’m sure we can find another day. I’ll just visit you again.” He said, giving you another intense look.

“Sounds good for me. I have to finish unpacking everything now, but thanks again for the coffee.” You smiled cheekily, scooping up a dollop of whipped cream with your finger and sticking it into your mouth.

There was just the smallest hitch in Jakes breath, but you noticed. Strike, you thought gleefully. “I’ll see you around then.” He said, his voice slightly stained, before he disappeared in a hurry.

You leaned back into your chair with a smug grin, taking a deep sip of your hot beverage. That went surprisingly well. You pushed the nagging thought that getting into something with him was not a good idea aside. A couple of drinks wouldn’t hurt.

+++

You felt a small sense of triumph when Jake already returned the next day.

“For a man who claimed to be so busy back at the airport, you certainly have a lot of free time to visit me.” You greeted him with a cheeky grin.

“I was on this floor, so I thought I’d stop by to say Hi.” Jake said. He was wearing his glasses today and it was doing crazy things to your body. You weren’t sure if you could reject another invitation, but still decided to play it cool.

“Well, lucky me, I guess. Hi. No coffee today?” you asked, giving him a little fake pout.

“I see, I already spoiled you.” Jake chuckled, but his eyes were affectionate.

“You could make it up to me, though, maybe by buying me a drink tonight after work?” The smile that flashed over Jakes face made you forget any regret you might have felt about giving in so soon. Being the reason he smiled like that felt really good.

“It would be my pleasure. I’ll be on air until five, so I pick you up here at six?”

“So you’re just assuming that I’m going to work overtime?“

“It’s your first week on the job, of course you work overtime.” Jake shot back, grinning.

He was right, of course, you still had to learn your way around the department, so you decided to stay an hour longer each day to get the hang on everything.

“Just be here at six, smart arse.” You joked, and instantly regretted it, afraid you were being overly comfortable with Jake. But he just winked at you and walked away, a slight spring in his step.

+++

Jake was punctual, picking you up from your booth at six sharps. He was acting like a real gentleman, holding the door to the office, the cab and the bar he picked out, a cozy place in downtown DC, away from Capitol Hill and the possibility of running into someone familiar.

The black suit he was wearing and the martini he had ordered gave Jake a very James-Bond-like look that you enjoyed immensely. You made a terrible “shaken, not stirred” joke that, miraculously, still made him laugh. Conversation was surprisingly easy, Jake could contribute something to basically any topic you broached. His vast knowledge of…well, everything was simultaneously sexy and intimidating, something that could be applied to his whole persona.

It wasn’t like he was a completely different person than on his show, his sharp observations and cutting sarcasm were still very much there, making you a bit hesitant to voice all your opinions freely. But there also was a lighter side to him that didn’t appear on television. For example, he was a huge nerd. You just uttered “Star Wars” a single time and spent the next twenty minutes listening to his detailed ranking of the entire movie franchise. At first, you were just feigning interest, but he was so passionate about the topic that you couldn’t help but get interested. When you confessed that you had never seen a Star Wars movie before, Jake wasn’t having it.

“Ok, this can’t stand. Friday, my place, were watching Star Wars. I can’t let you run around that uneducated.” He replied, and your heart took up pace like a racehorse. Going to his place was a huge step after just one date and really knowing each other for only three days. But as much as you wanted to decline, you wanted nothing more than to spend some more time with this man, against all reservations you had.

“I have a master’s degree from Brown, don’t call me uneducated.” you said, reaching out to playfully slap his arm. But he caught your wrist mid-air, making blood rush to your face because of the grip of his fingers against your skin.

“Careful, Y/N.” he murmured. Why was his voice suddenly so deep and sensual? Your eyes met, and for a second, the air was buzzing between the two of you. Then Jake let go of your hand, and the moment was over. But you could still feel a lingering prickle at where his skin had touched yours.

“So, what do you say?” He asked, his voice back to its normal tone. You had to decide quickly, not about watching Star Wars but about what kind of message to send to Jake. Coming over to his place was a risk, were you ready to take it?

He looked at you, waiting for you to say something, and his eyes were so damn hopeful.

“Sure, why not. But there better be snacks.” You replied. Here goes nothing.

+++

It was Friday, and you stood in front of Jake Tappers apartment door, a bottle of wine clutched in your sweaty hand. You weren’t sure what one was supposed to bring for a Star Wars movie night, so you decided on a white wine you liked to buy for yourself.

A moment after you rung the doorbell, Jake was already there, almost as if he had been waiting behind the door. You smiled at him, presenting the bottle.

“I hope you like white wine.” you said. Wow, what a lamer starter, you thought. But Jake graciously took the bottle and stepped aside to let you enter the apartment.

“I love white wine, thank you very much.” He said, sounding genuine.

His flat was nice, clean and surprisingly void of clutter. You had never been to his office but back at the bar he had talked about collecting a lot of historical stuff back, he obviously kept all of that at work. There was a nice, comfortable looking sofa, but it was the table in front of you that made your eyes light up.

“Oh my god, Jake, this is snack heaven! You really outdid yourself.” You exclaimed, beaming at him. There were chips, dips, popcorn, chocolate covered pretzels and even jellybeans.

“You said you wanted snacks.” Jake said, matter-of-factly and you took a moment to really look at him. He was dressed casually today, wearing a grey jumper that looked incredibly soft, and jeans. Overall, he looked fantastic, and you could feel your heart starting to beat faster when you were thinking about sitting close to him on the sofa.

“How about you make yourself comfortable, I’m going to pour us some wine and then we can get started.” Jake said, disappearing into the kitchen. You sat down on the sofa, it was really cozy. You had to keep yourself from snuggling back into the cushions, reminding yourself that you were not at home here and this was still very much Jake Tappers apartment. A moment later, the man himself came back, carrying two glasses of wine that he put down in front of you on a small spot of the table that wasn’t occupied by snacks.

He sat down next to you, keeping a respectful distance.

“So, we are going to start with the fourth movie, which is actually the first movie that was filmed back in 1978, they made three prequels later but nobody that considers themself a true Star Wars fan would introduce someone to the franchise by watching part one.” Jake explained. Seeing him so passionate about this was really endearing, even if you weren’t a hundred percent sure what he was talking about.

“You have my complete and total trust in this matter, I am here to learn.” You joked, and Jakes responding chuckle made warmth bloom in your belly.

The movie was really good, you were intrigued by the characters and the storyline, but what was even better was watching the film with Jake. Some people were annoyed by others talking during a movie, but you enjoyed the occasional fun fact immensely, and Jake was a walking encyclopedia of Star Wars trivia.

“Did you know that the guy who did Darth Vader’s voice and the actor who played him never actually met?”

“During the trash compactor scene, Mark Hamill held his breath for so long that a blood vessel in his face popped, that’s why they only took shots from one side, pay attention to it and you will notice.”

You quietly munched your popcorn while he was talking, watching him with keen interest bothering on fascination. Star Wars fan Jake was glorious in his nerdiness. How was this the same man that was ripping apart politicians every day on television and had snapped at you at the airport?

“I’m sure someone told you this before, but you a such a nerd.” You grinned, playfully throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

“I consider myself the nerd king.” He declared, voice so deadly serious that you couldn’t stop yourself from bursting out laughing. Jake turned around to look at you. Why was his face so mesmerizing? And why was he suddenly sitting so close to you?

“Your laugh is beautiful.” He said quietly. And then he was kissing you. Your brain tried to catch up and make sense of the sudden new development, but Jakes lips were too soft and his hand on your tight to warm and heavy for you to focus on anything else. You responded enthusiastically, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, teasing you until you opened your mouth.

His hands were on your hips now, pulling you closer until you were sitting on his lap. He leaned into the back of the sofa and slid his palms down your sides until they settled on your ass. You started to softly grind your hips into his and your body went into overdrive as you felt the evidence of how much he was enjoying the kiss pressed against your core through your jeans.

“Jake.” You moaned against his mouth. “What about the movie?”

“Fuck the movie.” He whispered, attacking your lips again, his hands squeezing your ass.

Breaking the kiss, you brought some distance between your faces to look at him with mock indignation.

“Don’t let your nerd friends hear that.”

“My nerd friends would tell me to shut up about Star Wars when a woman like you is sitting on my lap.” Jake responded with a smirk, and you couldn’t argue with that.

He kissed you again, and needless to say, you didn’t finish the movie.

Jake took you to his bed instead, slowly undressing you, kissing and touching every inch of your skin he could reach in the process. He slid between your legs, entering you in one fluid motion and your hands stayed tangled in his hair as you moved against each other. His eyes never left yours, and from the way he looked at you, you knew that this was something real. When you hit your peak, your guttural cry of Jakes name was all it took for him to follow you over the edge.

Afterwards, you snuggled up against him and silently thanked the fates that you had picked up that wrong suitcase.

(about 6 months later)

“I can’t believe ours really are the last ones.” You groaned, leaning onto Jake while stifling a yawn. “I just want to go home.”

“You slept the whole flight, Y/N, and I’m sure the luggage will be here any moment. Patience, love.” Jake replied, sounding rather tired himself.

You had just arrived from Barbados, your first holiday together. It had been amazing, nothing but eating, swimming and relaxing for two weeks. But it was the middle of the night now, and you had already been waiting at the baggage claim for thirty minutes.

“Just stay here and let me lean on you and I’ll be fine. You have to watch me anyway, not that some grumpy, hot stranger mistakes my luggage for his and I meet him at the service desk and fall irrevocably in love with him because of that.” You said, letting out a soft chuckle.

Jake just wrapped his arm around you, pulling you tightly against his chest.

“That’s why I got you that nice red suitcase for your birthday, can’t let that happen again.”

#jake tapper #jake tapper imagine #jake tapper fic #jake tapper x reader #fanfiction #cnn anchors #cnn #cnn fic #imagine

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anthrogothic · 3 years

Text

Body/Prision

sooooo here is the third part of the fic. that part was particularly tricky but I think it's because of the bad times I'm living. anyway, I hope you like it. <3 (originally written in brazilian portuguese. sorry for any error).

Pairing: Echo x f!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k :p

Warnings: some cute moments with the guys, mentions of trauma and sadness, things get a little hot maybe? (finally?)

You woke up to your usual loud alarm clock. Your dry mouth, heavy eyes, and messy hair. You sighed as you saw the storm outside again, the churning ocean crashing against the slopes of Tipoca. You missed the sun, the breeze and the feet sunk in the grass. You felt lonely. Your divorced parents, too busy with their new lives, the rest of your family in another System, your clone friends could die in war… it haunted you every day.

You tried to ward off the eminent sadness by deciding to get ready soon.

Your hot coffee in your mouth made you wake up a little more. Silently wondering why you woke up so tired, you barely had time to continue with the doubt.

You spent the night thinking about Echo. Wondering about his life before being picked up by the Separatists, how he feels, how it feels to have mechanical parts, how out of place he must feel, if he sleeps peacefully due to the noticeable dark circles… but mostly on his face delicate, despite the panic, his body defined in the tight black outfit identical to the one you wear, how his body, even dressed, reacted to your touches, his breath hitched whenever you got too close, the way his voice it sounded loudly close to your ear, his form poised and the eyes piercing…

You shake your head sharply as you realize that your saliva has almost run from your lips.

Heavens, what were you doing? Feeling attracted to him, obviously no one would want anything to do with you. Much less him… just because you share some possible insecurities with him? Just because you acted like a conscious being and helped him through a bad time? No. He was a soldier, molded quite differently from you. You who never even had a reciprocated passion, who at best only attracted interests because of the shape of your body. Your weird tastes, your clothes, the tattoos you did trying to be more attractive, the earrings all over your ears, none of it made you feel better or be any less lonely. You were only good in a lab and maybe being empathetic with people. You can't use someone just for want, like they did you.

The day passed slowly, monotonous as usual. And an extra weight, with the fateful waking thoughts. A laugh or two that Omega took from you, was what sustained you until mealtime.

At the same table with your friends, eating that not very tasty food, listening to random conversations and participating in a few of them and eventually wandering your gaze around the environment in search of certain clones.

Until a characteristic voice came up behind you, making your friends look in your direction, their features already not very happy.

- Look who is here!

Yelled Wrecker at his full size, which seemed so much bigger from your sitting position. You greeted him with a sincere smile.

Another came soon after, with a tattooed eye, gray hair, and a toothpick in his mouth. His face was a little more different, thinner and frowning. The slim but well-defined body.

- Oh, is she the one you talked about so much?

The clone stopped in front of you, studying you with a frown.

- Hmm… cute. Tech is the one who will be happy. Finally someone who will listen to your silly scientific facts.

He said, already turning towards the back of the cafeteria. Wrecker looking at you with a relaxed expression.

- Don't care about him. It's just a fucking bad mood.

Wrecker snorted. You couldn't hold back your laugh at the clone's expression.

Wrecker looked up above and you turned to see what caught his attention. His cheeks flushed in a way you didn't even know was possible.

It was Echo. Coming towards you. Glorious and imposing in his armor, the kama following the movement of his hips. The serious expression, the same slightly downcast eyes. He nodded at Wrecker and looked back at you, stopping in front of you, already having a much softer expression on his face.

- Hey, Echo. You look great.

You said, having trouble focusing on his eyes, having the entire length of his body right there in front of you.

- Uh… yes. Thanks to you.

You could have sworn his voice had wavered a little, and the little color of his skin was in his cheeks. You scratched the back of your neck, rather shy at the clone's declaration.

- Ah! You are talking too much! Let's eat!

Wrecker said, lifting you by the arm and then grabbing Echo's arm and dragging the two of you.

- Hey! Do you really go with them?

Shouted one of his friends, annoyed.

- Oh, relax. I'll be back later.

You said with a little disdain.

Arriving at the table where Bad Batch was, you were friendly greeted by Hunter, inviting you to sit next to him, and you, a little embarrassed by his strong gaze on you, eventually relented. Echo sat across from you and Wrecker beside him. Echo always giving you a slight smile whenever your gazes lingered too long on each other. Damn it. He was more adorable than you thought.

Then the gray-haired clone and the one even more different approached. Caramel hair, thin nose, and wide eyes, overshadowed by orange glasses. He was taller than the other, thin, and well defined. They were arguing about something.

- These are Crosshair and Tech, Y/N.

Hunter said, his eyes dismayed and his eyebrow raised at the sight of the fight.

Crosshair stopped by the table, avoiding sitting next to Wrecker, who was already looking at him with malice. The clone sighed and slowly went to sit beside you, visibly uncomfortable.

- Oh, Tech. Have you met their new little friend?

His voice was pure mockery. But his gaze wouldn't stop analyzing you for a second. You reached out to Tech amicably.

- Hi Tech, I'm-

You were immediately interrupted.

- Y/N. Worked in the cloning division and is now Nala Se's right hand. Echo's description of your person even lived up to reality. I'm impressed.

Your eyes were simply wide open and your mouth slightly open. The silence at the table was overwhelming. Echo had commented on you, why?

- Uh… okay… I'm happy.

You barely managed to smile shyly at the clone, who as if nothing had happened, was already focused on his meal calmly. Echo had locked eyes with the food tray at her brother's declaration. Lips pressed together.

Hunter rested a hand on your shoulder, with an amused look as if he said "that's it, get used to it." You caught Echo staring at the Sergeant's hand on your shoulder, only relaxing when Hunter turned his hand back to brace himself on the table. You laughed at Hunter, turning your attention to your meal.

It was amazing to see the team interaction up close. They fought and agreed all the time. Just like a family. You felt comfortable giving in to whatever subject you had to say and noticing how safe and direct Hunter was, the way Wrecker was animated and loved to tease the brothers, the seriousness and good sense of Tech, the acid and provocative way of Crosshair and, finally, Echo's neutrality and calm. Despite not having been on the team for a long time, he had his spotlight. He was sweet, nice and reserved. The boys liked you. And you expect Crosshair too.

You all finished your meals and you walked down the halls together. The typical looks and whispers all over you, as usual. But no one came directly to offend you anymore.

Over time, you did everything together whenever possible. Even practicing some moves with Hunter in the training room, you were always being caught off guard when the clone took off his sweaty shirt and rubbed it against his forehead. The scientific discussions with Tech, which both always ended up in an impasse when arguing about. Wrecker definitely livened up your whole day, lifting you like you're nothing and crushing you against his strong, broad chest. Crosshair was quite an interesting exchange of false insults, always sneaky and slightly provocative when he cornered you just to feel in charge. And Echo, ah, how sweet he was. Something kept pulling you to him. Always so concerned and affectionate with you.

He always walked by your side. The issues between you two only grew. You talked from the bad meal to the battle methods used in training. And eventually, you got a smile out of him. And your heart swelled to the point of tearing your chest. And when the accidental physical touches happened, you two froze and apologized to each other over and over again. He gradually opened up with you more, avoiding talking about the past, but always demonstrating one thing or another. And you were always patient, trying your hardest not to push and give him comfort to feel safe.

Echo was feeling, for the first time since the accident, something close to being accepted, understood or even… passionate, considering that his sleep and attention were easily impaired by your presence or thoughts related to you. But of course he tried to retain that thought in the back of his brain whenever it surfaced. No one noticing, it would be okay.

A few days passed and your new friends were requested for a mission in Kashyyyk. You were swamped with work and had barely managed to do your chores with Echo or even spend time with the boys. When you can, you made sure to do all the physical tests on them. Sometimes getting lost in their strong, attractive forms with only the tight black clothes on their bodies. Getting a few hits or lunges when you couldn't disguise it enough.

Echo was waiting for you in the dorm that night. You still hadn't reconciled your spare time to meet. You would finish the job pretty early, and Echo would be free, so it was the perfect opportunity to finish testing the clone.

That night, Omega was with you. You guys talking and eating before Echo told you he was ready. Until then, he hadn't texted once on his communicator. "It must be because we see each other every day," you thought, dreaming of receiving messages from him all night long.

The communicator rang, in the message, Echo said: "I'm ready to be your guinea pig again, mad scientist. :)"

You laughed, already being teased by Omega.

- People in love laugh like that, you know?

She said, pretentious. Ready to hear your apology. You just wanted to run from the girl's gaze, fearing that her flushed eyes and cheeks would give you away.

- Ah, Omega. It's just Echo letting me know it's ready.

You said, running to get your metallic briefcase.

- Y/N, only a blind person doesn't see the way you look at each other. Even the boys have noticed.

She said naturally, munching on the goodies she stole from the cafeteria.

You looked at her disdainfully, rolling your eyes as if she'd heard the worst lie, but your insides screaming in agreement with the girl.

- So... uh, did you put my uniform here, Omega? I'm not comfortable with just this tight black outfit.

You said, looking at yourself in the reflection of the glass, releasing your long hair.

- Uh, I forgot in the lab when that toxic stuff spilled on you and you almost tore your clothes off.

The girl laughed, almost spitting at you.

- But I think you should go that way. Echo will like it. Better than that gigantic uniform. You look like an Ewok, but not that cute.

She laughed, getting a dirty sock in the middle of her face, which you threw at her.

- Be quiet, Omega. Or I'll throw you out the window.

You headed towards the door, Omega's sweet laugh in the background. You didn't really mind going out without a uniform, as the hallways were empty at night. You intended to stop by the lab to pick up your clothes before going to the dorm.

But you almost ran into Echo, turning down the hall. Startling a little, you looked him in the eye. Echo had a calm expression, already wandering his gaze over your marked body in that outfit, a completely new vision, strange things bubbling up inside him.

- I'm sorry to show up like this. I was going to your room since you didn't answer me.

Echo explained, with an amused expression.

- Oh, forgive me. I was in such a hurry that I didn't even tell you I was leaving.

Hey, you hadn't even taken that long… You couldn't keep your eyes on his for too long. Feeling practically naked in that outfit and feeling his gaze on you.

- Everything is fine. I think I was… anxious.

Echo looked away, scratching the back of his neck. You felt your ears heat and a flutter in your stomach. Was he looking forward to seeing you? Ah… no, it shouldn't be.

- All right dear, I understand it's still a little tense the whole testing thing and-

You were interrupted by Echo's hand on your arm, his gaze now fixed on you.

- I was looking forward to seeing you. I- I mean, you've been so busy lately...

Echo blushed at the unexpected statement, you mostly and you two were silent for a while, looking at each other.

- Ah, I… I wanted to see you too… before the mission. It's going to be hard to get through a few days without you… a-and the others, of course.

You said, completely embarrassed. Trying not to look so fond of him.

- Uh, don't worry, Kashyyyk isn't that dangerous.

Echo smiled slightly, withdrawing his hand.

- I hope so, I want you and the others in one piece.

Echo chuckled softly, the sound resonating in your chest.

- I think it's impossible for me to be less whole.

You punched his chest lightly, your offended expression playfully.

- Let's go then?

You asked and Echo nodded, clearing the way for you to continue your walk. You thought it best to finish these tests soon, so there wouldn't be any delays so Echo could go on a mission. Already embarrassed by your apparent "lack of clothing", checking the list of missing tests, you realized that you would need to look into Echo's cybernetics, which involved, of course, removing the clothing. Maker, can this get any more embarrassing?

You went to the dorm, the walk feeling longer than usual, the tension in the air so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Typing in the password, Echo gave you passage through the open door, entering right after you. You walked in almost having your legs frozen from being in a smaller room alone with Echo. Damn it. Were you really in love like that?

Echo gazed at your form, the light from the hallway reflected off your back, the hair gleaming and… well, your ass, before closing the door and trying to push the thoughts out of his mind (failing, of course). You were actually more attractive than usual.

Going to the bunk, you put your briefcase on the floor and sat on the not-so-comfortable mattress.

- You come?

You asked, a little nervous.

Echo, as if he had come back to consciousness at your words, nodded and walked over, sitting on the mattress beside you. You opened the briefcase and took out the list.

- Echo… I'm going to need to check your… cybernetics.

Your voice barely came out at the end of the sentence. Echo's eyes widened, already crossing his arms in front of his stomach.

- B-but… I thought not-

You interrupted him already fearing that he would think you deceived him in a way.

- Yes, Echo, it's not necessary in the basic test but Kashyyyk is very physical so unfortunately I need to look…

Your chest sank. Were you really going to expose him like that, or did you leave the test aside at the risk of him having problems in the mission? Echo sighed, his face worried, his eyes roaming his legs.

- I… I'm not very nice to look at.

The false humor in his voice. You got closer.

- I know I'll never really understand what you feel. But I understand a little bit about not liking the body you live in.

Your eyes lowered a little, the sad tone in your voice.

- You? Please. You do not have a defect-

Echo gasped, but too late. You looked away, tugging a lock of hair behind your ear.

- Oh please. Do not exaggerate.

You decided to start testing right away, you had no idea how to continue this subject.

Echo was clearly annoyed. You would be the first person close to him to see his body in that state. All the scars and… well… everything else.

You, on the other hand, had some discomfort below your navel. See him naked. This has made you imagine hundreds of things.

Echo slowly turned and peeled off the top of his black outfit. Several times stopping in the middle of the process, as if to gather courage with each movement. You decided not to interfere, respecting his time and space...

Gradually he revealed his defined back, the cervical prosthesis, all along the length of his spine, the chest that expanded with each deep breath he took as he revealed more of his body.

The prosthesis expanded slightly toward the two broad shoulders and met the cybernetics Echo wore around his head. Your scientist side was intrigued and awestruck by the prostheses, but your human side… was admiring the pale, defined silhouette. Skin identical to porcelain, with scars and some bruises from previous missions. The muscular, strong arms gave you goose bumps.

Echo just stood there, eyes closed and his back to you.

- Echo... if you're not okay-

The clone was hugging the shirt he had taken off, covering his chest and part of his belly when he abruptly turned around.

- I am fine!

His voice sounded steady, perhaps, but his movements faltered. He tossed the shirt aside, already feeling completely naked and vulnerable. He took a deep breath and continued, standing up.

You couldn't help but follow the movements of cybernetics and Echo's thumb moving along the waistband of his pants, slowly lowering them, exposing the cybernetics of hips, thighs, and legs as the fabric was discarded. Okay, it was metal, but perfectly molded and fit, mechanically harmonious and sexy. You noticed that in his pelvis, Echo had a kind of smock, as a protection. You reprimanded yourself for thinking that it was for... did he still have-

You shook your head, cursing yourself internally.

Echo held the pants to his chest as he straightened, he didn't meet your eyes, his head was down, embarrassed. The fabric fell down the front of his body, slightly covering his belly and part of his waist.

You got up, slowly, stopping in front of the clone. The heart at a thousand beats per minute. You felt sorry for him. And you felt disgusting about it. He was a soldier, a warrior, a survivor of so many things worth pity? Damn your sentimentality.

You put your hand on his strong, broad shoulder, he reacting slightly to your touch.

- You can trust me. You are not just a product to be tested today.

His heart warmed at your words. Was he more than that to you?

Echo stared steadily at your fingers traveling over his biceps and down, until your hand came back to your side.

- What am I for you?

His little eyes were gleaming slightly and his brows drawn together in question. The question hit you like a well-placed blow to the face. You never stopped to find a definition for him for you. He wasn't just an acquaintance, of that you were sure. But how to say that he makes you shy? That you always want to be beautiful around him? That you bring up subjects constantly for fear of seeming boring to him? That you genuinely care about him and find him beautiful, and now very attractive? Your face boiled over the seconds, looking him in the eye became impossible.

- Uh… y-you are… my friend, aren't you? I mean, you are all-

Your shaky thinking was interrupted by Echo's black pants coming your way. He put it on your left shoulder very slowly. You followed the movement and when you returned to the front, you felt that characteristic twinge in your gut.

- I mean, what do you think when you see this...

The soft voice, almost like a sad whisper. His hand pointed at himself.

The broad, defined chest, the pale nipples, the deep collarbones, the last ribs barely visible around the cybernetics he had on his chest. His belly was defined, his waist slightly slimmer than his hips, the cybernetics and splint low enough for you to follow the V that extended to his pelvis. The bulk of the thighs and the bulging codpiece. A hand on your chin, pushing up, broke your reverie.

- I'm up here, in case you've forgotten.

His voice was amused, the slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth, the higher cheekbones.

- I'm glad you didn't react like the others.

His voice was more serious, his rough thumb caressing your chin.

You swallowed dry. Looking up, pausing for a moment to take a closer look at the cracked, swollen lips parted. You felt him appreciating your lips too, on the contrary, flushed, shiny, silky-looking and outlined as if it had been drawn. Echo frowned, his brows almost drawing together. He didn't know he would be able to feel the slightest attraction to someone again. That he could behold the beauty in someone, that he could get so close to someone physically and… emotionally.

He was naked in front of you and it didn't bother him as much as it did in the beginning. How had he not noticed this before? You're always so jealous of him, and he's always looking for more and more, trying to reciprocate. The sensation burning in his chest, deep inside, beneath the cybernetics.

- You…

You said it almost as a whisper. Lifting your hand to caress his forearm with your fingertips, to the limit between skin and metal.

- Is strong, sweet, determined…

Your fingers moved up past his shoulder, placing your palm on his strong, broad chest. His eyes trailing all the way. Your heart trembled to say how enchanted and in love you were… but you didn't feel safe enough.

- You're beautiful. Human, above all. And yet, the Hero of Anaxes.

Echo had his eyes closed when you faced him again. His eyes narrowed as he tried to absorb your words. Your act sent him back years ago. Still soldier, a normal clone, with his armor and the blue palm that was nailed to his rib plate. A token of honor.

He opened his eyes, tears welling up, blurring his vision.

Your heart ached, making you hug him tightly, propelling him back. Echo responded slowly as he realized what you were doing, pressing you against him, pressing his nose against the base of your neck. The two of you digging your fingertips into each other's backs. His tears warming your shoulder and running down your shoulder blades. You rested your head on his chest, listening and feeling his deep breathing and strong heartbeat. Your slim, tight uniform allowed you to feel every rise and texture of Echo's physique. Your breasts crushed against his chest.

Stars, it felt like heaven. You barely remember when you did this. This man deserved to have all his pains extracted and his dreams perfectly reconstructed.

When both realized, it had been some time, you were stroking the clone's back, and he had dropped his hands to your waist.

He only got up because of the pain in his back from having to bend over to hug you. You looked at him smiling and cradled his face in your hands.

- Better now, darling?

Echo smiled, his little eyes reddened from crying. He nodded, a little embarrassed, feeling like he'd ripped his body open and showing you his insides explicitly. Echo sighed, allowing himself to enjoy your touch. Giving in to your soft, gentle touch. Which he didn't even remember what it was like anymore.

- Thanks…

You smiled as sweetly and sincerely as you could. You were really happy to be there. But there was work to be done.

- Can we continue, Echo? If not, you won't be able to bring those beautiful Kashyyyk flowers I asked for.

You said sweetly, giggling, lowering your hand to his shoulder.

Echo smiled, little did you know he would be able to bring you moons and stars. Echo was kind to everyone. Never sparing efforts to help. But with you… he felt he would be able to destroy planets if you asked.

#echo x y/n #arc trooper echo #echo x fem reader #echo x you #star wars x reader #star wars #clone trooper echo #clone wars #clone simp #body/prision #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #tbb x reader #tbb echo #writers on tumblr #female writers

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thecandywrites · 3 years

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Blood For Gold Chapter 13

Wooo! It has been a while dearies. Let's see, my baby sister's husband, so my brother in law got diagnosed with Lupis which at this point is a relief that it's not his cancer coming back so there's that. My parents rushed down to AZ to be with my dying grandparents and are trying to let them pass from the comfort of their home without having to go into a nursing home, hospice called us and said 'you should come down and say goodbye while they still know who you are' so we all rushed down to do just that and I just came back from a week down there doing that which was emotionally draining and devastating. My other sister's dog tore a ligament and needs a 5k surgery to fix it. This particular sister has no kids and her dogs are her kids, which is perfectly reasonable and valid. And my Chron's Disease is flaring and trying to kill me for the...I've lost count of how many times it's tried to kill me for the 25 years I've had it, (I'm 35, just to put that into perspective) and I have an emergency colonoscopy on the 6th that I need to prepare for.

So sorry for the delay on updating this story, I've been meaning to update this for A VERY LONG TIME and mentally I knew exactly how I wanted to write it, I just had no time, energy, drive or opportunity to write UNTIL TODAY. So you are getting this hot off the presses and I want to pick up and GO GO GO before my life completely falls apart.

Again so many thanks to @kriskukko for letting me use her still gorgeous, still amazing, still epic REGENCY ERA ORC ART. Just...still in love with it.

Thanks to @punkhorse96 for all your amazing feedback. Now, we get into THE DANGER ZONE. Much plot, so sex, big TORN. Enjoy. *evilly cackles*

Blood For Gold

Chapter 13

Your family completely monopolated your time the moment they came and wouldn’t let you out of their sight and you couldn’t get a moment’s peace or solace, except when it came time for the masquerade ball at the Midnight Peacock, then everyone seemed to disappear and leave you alone to change and you couldn’t hardly wait for tonight, Axal told you that The Red Velvet Rope was hosting this particular masquerade ball so all of the brothel’s workers would be there along with almost all the other moura individuals in all of London would be there tonight.

It was going to be your first time going and you had brought out your new masquerade dress that you had made in your “widowhood” because while you recovered from your mourkatilli addiction, and healed from the other trauma and abuse, you needed a project to keep you occupied.

It was a special one, it was reversible with a twist. It was really four outfits in one. A skirt with two different layers, and each layer was reversible and a top that was sewn and embroidered in such a way that it was four tops in one, each one to also coincide with one of the layers of the skirt. So if you wore it “normally” and “inside out” and “right side in” on each layer, you would have four unique outfits and you had embroidered all four layers in two of the styles of tops, when not being worn on the outside would roll up and give you something of a push up bra, so that it would appear in such a way that it would look like one scene one way and in the reverse, a completely different one but still in the same shapes in an elevated double embroidered piece. It was some of your best work to date. And you had a fabric mask pinned into each skirt so that the masks you wore changed with it, and you wore your hair in such a way that it could change, from up, to half up and half down to fully down and in a variety of ways and Axal had told you that Ramsey had confided in him that the place had “changing” rooms where you could change your outfit as needed, in case you needed to change yourself throughout the night. So you left the Palace of Windsor in one of your more “flashy” and luxurious facets, complete with a cape that was also reversible with your family.

Once at the place you immediately left your family and “changed” into the most simple and understated of the four, a black embroidered top and simple black skirt with no embroidery, it was simple yet elegant and began looking for Demsey Draft, because you needed to warn him about the other mouras that had come as well break off any connection with him so that you couldn’t be implicated later because the last thing you wanted was for Duke Demsey Voyambi to know that you had ever set foot in a whorehouse. You wanted him to feel and know that if the attraction you had to him was returned by him, that you would be loyal to him and he would have your complete fidelity and you would leave Mr. Demsey Draft where you found him, in your hopefully long forgotton past. A woman was allowed to go a little wild in her mourning right?

Meanwhile Demsey had done the same, only he didn’t have any reversible outfits, instead he went straight to the “coat room” and “rented” a change of clothes, he had to find Audra Draft and break things off with her, and solely pursue Sultana Audravienne.

And like clock work, only moments after going around the place, looking for Mr. Draft, when you found your prize, coming out of the changing room, dressed how you thought he’d be, simple, rather plain but dignified.

“Mr. Demsey Draft?” You asked once you found him.

“Miss Audra Draft,” He smiled in relief that he found her, or rather, that she had found him although why she insisted on calling his last name of Draft, maybe she was trying to give him a pseudonym to protect his real identity as you were thinking the exact same thing, although tonight would be the last time you would ever answer to such a name as your moura marks lit up like fireworks again, practically glowing and pulsing through your clothes and on your skin as Demsey flushed with desire because that was going to be one of the many things he was going to miss about Miss Draft.

“Might we have a word?” You asked, even though your heart was screaming for one last release with him before you cut things off with him completely.

“Yes, by all means.” He agreed as you took his hand and led him away to a private booth in the little restaurant side of the place as most had gathered in the dance hall and were already beginning to dance the night away.

“Before anything else, I must tell you that after tonight I must break all contact with you, you see, I’m going to be pursuing a very wonderful woman, and I can not do so with any prior attachments or engagements, she is the kind of woman who deserves whole hearted and whole souled devotion.” He began as your heart was relieved and happy for him but broke at the news as your moura marks stopped pulsing and flashing, instead, simply faded to a rose gold then stopped which broke Demsey’s heart to see as he recalled how the Sultana's marks flashed rose gold when she was upset or sad. It still must have been a universal moura thing, he supposed.

“Well isn’t that a coincidence, I came to find you to tell you something similar. I also found someone, a wonderful man actually, who I wish to pursue whole heartedly and without reserve.” You replied.

“So...The Red Velvet Rope is no longer…” Demsey began.

“Part of my life? No. Never, you?” You asked.

“Same, I will never set foot into it again.” He professed.

“Probably for the best. So, I know you wish to probably keep certain things private, and I don’t expect you to tell me who it is that has captured your attentions and affections, and whoever she is, I can only hope and pray that she is worthy of them.” You offered, feeling much more than a pang in your heart, much more than you were expecting anyway, the whole day you had prepared yourself for this moment, rehearsing what it was that you wanted to say to him. He was, after all, just a manwhore in a whorehouse, you shouldn’t have any real emotional connection with him and it should be easy to walk away, but now that it was happening, your heart, soul and body screamed for the reverse. It felt like it had been too long since you got to hold him in your arms, kiss his sweet mouth and marvel at the way his body seemed to always meld and mold to yours and bring you the sweetest of releases.

“Thank you, and likewise.” Demsey graciously offered.

“Out of curiosity, you don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to, but the woman you are going to be pursuing, is she an orc like you?” You asked curiously.

“No, she’s actually, um,” Demsey began before he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“She’s moura.” Demsey confessed.

“Oh, well in that case...I know...or rather, I have heard.” You rephrased, not wanting to tell on yourself too much as Demsey smiled sadly at you as you cast your gaze away from him guiltily as you felt tears prick your eyes as a strange panic seemed to grip your chest.

“I have heard that there are many mouras here, and new ones have come into England fairly recently. Please beware, there are some mouras who are not “typical” and perfectly lovely and good people and others who are actually true to the typical type cast. Surely you have heard the saying that “a moura’s beauty is always outmatched by their greed for wealth and power.” There are some who prove that saying false, and some who prove it true. Please beware of the latter and make sure that the woman who has caught your eye is the former, for only ruination follows the latter’s footsteps.” You tried to gently warn him, fearful he had seen Benny and fallen in love with her like any other orc male had.

“I will, and if you will do me the same honor. Would you tell me what kind of man has caught your attentions and affections?” Demsey asked, even though part of him didn’t want to know and part of him was wishing it was a proper moura, so she would be with her own kind who would understand and sympathize with her and treat her the way she deserved, which was an invaluable treasure, whether she was "tainted" or not.

“He’s an orc. Although I do not know if he leans more towards the old orcish ways and culture or if he will hold true to the English ones although I guess there are some things that are similar in both cultures. I am at a loss as to how to pursue him and what will reach him and prove that myself and my own intentions are true, and how to prove to him that I’m one of the atypical moura’s unless he has already judged me to be typical then I am at a loss for I know at least one member of his family already has but I’m hoping he does not share their views. Because first impressions are usually the most firmly set and hardest to prove otherwise, no matter the word or deed.” You confessed and Demsey felt his rage begin to flare, the moura before him was clearly not the power hungry type. Anyone with half a wit could discern that about her, much less see it with their own eyes.

“Is he….is he a commoner or is he gentry?” Demsey asked, feeling actual panic whirling in his chest, he knew his brother had gone to The Red Velvet Rope and if Sierge had found her, he could be charming and could talk his way into any woman’s knickers if he really tried but Sierge would no sooner bed her before he shamed her for doing so. Sierge was his brother but Sierge was also a rake and downright dangerous to any woman’s honor.

“He is in the gentry. That’s why it gives me pause, so far he has been a dream, a perfect gentleman and he comes from a good family and noble business. There is nothing about him that gives me hesitation except that I do not know if he shares the attraction. He may just be very polite and friendly and I’m reading too far into his gestures or he may already share his opposing family’s views of what a moura can typically be. But...he’s worth pursuing if he does share the attraction, I was hoping I would find him tonight and I could feel him out for it, if not, there are others that are pursuing me. And...I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, or if...if I should just forget all of it and be better off alone.” You confessed as your own panic settled in that you would never see the man across from you in this tiny little booth, barely big enough for two, ever again. It was like you were magnetically drawn to him and you were helpless to fight against it in his company.

“But in any case, I will miss you, and I will remember our brief moments together with fondness.” You offered as you fought the tears in your eyes as your gold moura marks faded to a dull brass color, Demsey had never seen anything like it before, it gave him the most worry, since he had almost become accustomed to reading the Sultana’s marks like her facial expressions.

“You are too good.” Was all Demsey could say, his own heart breaking that he was going to lose, forever, the one other woman he felt any real connection to.

“So are you. Whoever she is, if she ever gets to bed you, she’s in for a treat.” You tried to tease with a grin but the bittersweetness in your eyes cut him to the core.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, may life treat you well and may the woman who captured your attention be worthy and return it and show you the same loyalty and respect you will surely show her.” You offered as you did your best to get out of the small booth to get away before you cried your eyes out right there at the table as you damned yourself for being unduly attached to a manwhore in a whorehouse rather than Duke Demsey Voyambi who you were sure was probably a much better man but still, your heart already ached at Demsey Draft’s absence.

He seemed to take your cue and got out of the booth as well as you curtsied in place as he bowed respectfully before you turned on your heel and tried to get away.

But you had barely taken two steps before Demsey quickly took three steps to catch your arm in his hand which caused you to stop and turn and turn right into his other hand that framed your face and brought it to his own as he gave the hottest, most soul scorching kiss of your life and you’d be lying through your teeth if you tried to say that you protested. Your body betrayed you as you kissed him back and glued yourself to him as your marks revived and started to pulse and flash again.

“One last time?” Desmey pleaded when you broke for air.

“One last time.” You readily agreed before you grabbed his hand again, saw along a far wall a room with the words “pairs dressing room” above the doorway and quickly ran with Demsey following you, his hand tightly grasping yours, weaving through the crowd and pushed a five pound note into the abbess’s hand and took the last available “pair’s changing booth” which was really just sex booth with a bench in it as you pushed Demsey to sit down as you readily straddled his lap as he undid his pants as you hiked up your skirts and stripped out of your Dorierran panties and seated yourself onto him and began to ride him in earnest as he partially undressed you, undoing your top and tossing it aside, still marveling at your moura moura marks as they pulsed and glittered even in the low light as your eyes practically glowed gold as well in the lower light of the darkened closet since there was only a lone candle burning in the corner as his hands went under your skirts and grabbed good handfuls of your arse and helped move your pelvis over himself so that your ground down deliciously before reattaching his mouth to yours and kissed you for all he was worth, pouring every ounce of his heart and soul into it before leaving hot, lisentious kisses on your neck and chest, capturing those oh so precious pulse points as you undid his collar so you could feast on his own neck and chest and once it was revealed you bit down his neck as he growled dangerously and hissed in pleasure and moaned when you soothed your mark with your tongue before inflicting a second, a third, and fourth and losing count after that as your mouth then moved to his collar bone and his very sensitive nipples, which he did appreciate your attention to as he did the same to you, because for this brief moment, you were his, for the last time, he was going to leave evidence that you were his, for this all too brief, but glorious moment, that nothing else mattered but your pleasure and once you shuddered and keened as your legs shook from the first orgasm as your moura marks lit up the room and glowed like soft sunshine as the orgasm seemed to flood your senses, he was picking you up and pinning you against the wall and driving up into you almost mercilessly but you loved every bit of it as you clung to him.

“Please Demsey, my dearest, darling Demsey, please, cum in me, fill me.” You pleaded desperately into his ear as you were near tears from how amazing and spectacular this was.

“Not yet.” Demsey cooed in your ear.

“Demsey please.” You begged as you felt another orgasm approaching and he still would not stop and that one nearly made you black out from pure ecstacy as the room lit up even brighter because that orgasm was bigger and more intense than the last and then he set your practically limp body down on the bench and went to his knees and replaced his cock with his mouth onto your already overly sensitive sex and ate you out like it was his first real meal after months of fasting as he settled your legs over his shoulders as the light that continued to pulse and glitter on your moura marks on your thighs and legs and lower belly provided all the light he needed as you laid back onto the bench as your pelvis rested in his hands as he moved you how he wanted you and you were powerless to stop him as a third orgasm bloomed in your body and lit up the room like a fire had started inside it as you did your best to hold onto your very soul so that it would not leave your body completely as you cried out in almost painfully blissful ecstasy as your hands gripped the edge of the bench pitifully, your knuckles going white, not caring in the least who could hear you and that’s when he finally relented and had you sit in his lap on the floor, with your bare chests touching and caressing the other and there was so much love and tenderness in his desperation to fuck you senseless as he held you fast to him and drove up into you and upon the fourth orgasm, the biggest and brightest of them all, did he finally relent and fill you so full it overflowed and you spent the longest moment just clinging to each other, neither of you wanting to let go of the other as you both basked in the ever so intense afterglow as the light from your moura marks slowly faded to nothing as once was desperation, was replaced with tenderness, softness and sweetness was you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the waves and subtle curls in his thick, luscious locks as your fingertips scratched ever so deliciously on his scalp as he scratched your back in turn, savoring every precious second of having you in his arms, trying to commit every detail to memory, not wanting anything to go missing when he would want to recall this later. Whether it would torture him or bring him fondness or joy, only time would tell.

Soon though, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“You two alive in there?” Came the abbess’ call.

“Yes, we’re almost done. Just a moment please.” You answered back as you reached around him and adjusted your mask back into place since it had become slightly askew so that he would not discover your true identity as he seemed to do the same before you reluctantly untangled from each other and helped get each other get redressed and recomposed.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, it was always a pleasure.” You offered as you took his hands and kissed his knuckles tenderly before you left the small room and quickly weaved your way through the crowd to the other end of the Midnight Peacock to get changed into another side of your outfit, this time, one of the lighter, more luxurious ones as you took a vial of perfume that was in your necklace and put some around your neck and chest to cover up any “evidence” of Mr. Draft’s presence on your body even though you had taken a moment to savor the scent of it one last time as Demsey seemed to do the same, changing out of his “rented” second outfit and back into his original one that he came in wearing and didn’t care to notice how the outfit seemed to be given to another orc who had come in, this one, more bluish in color who quickly changed into it to enjoy the party himself once Demsey had traded it in for his old clothes at the counter.

“Is there a bar here?” He asked the person overseeing the single dressing rooms once he came out redressed in his original outfit.

“Yes, it’s right through there, you can’t miss it.” She answered as he followed her direction to find a young lady, dressed is discrete luxury already sitting at the bar, drinking absinthe.

“Sultana Audravienne?” Demsey took a chance and asked which perked you up as you turned to see him.

“Duke Voyambi, I thought you would be dancing.” You offered, even though, your legs were still jelly from Mr. Draft’s endeavors.

“Usually, yes, but um, tonight, I’m not...I’m not really inclined to dance.” Demsey confessed because he was worn out but also he just let the greatest lover of his life so far slip through his fingers and he was in no mood to dance.

“I’ll be honest, neither am I, would you like to join me?” You offered.

“Yes, I’d love to.” He readily agreed.

“Well it seems since we both seemed to guess who the other is, there is little point of these then is there?” You asked as you pointed to the second mask you had pinned into the top you were currently sporting.

“No there isn’t.” Demsey readily agreed as both of you took off the masks and set them neatly on the bar as he got up onto the barstool next to you as you had already taken your hair down, letting your thick braid lay down your back.

“Absinthe?” He guessed, looking at the glass you were drinking from and recognizing the green liquid that filled it.

“Yes,” You readily confirmed.

“May I have one?” He asked the bartender who nodded and poured him a small glass of it, letting it pour over a cube of sugar and offered it up to him.

“Is this your first time drinking it?” You asked him.

“Is that obvious?” He asked as he took a few tentative sips.

“Absithe is the only “dangerous” drink they have here.” You answered.

“What would you prefer to be drinking right now then?” Demsey asked.

“Cyanide.” You answered without hesitation before he practically choked on his drink.

“Cyanide?” He repeated as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Mouras are immune to poison, remember? Cyanide is to me what wine or whiskey is to you.” You explained.

“But absinthe is still just a little poisonous right?” He asked.

“So is tobacco, but yet that doesn’t stop anyone from smoking it.” You shrugged as you looked out over the already cloudy room, filled with smoke from other patrons practically smoking up like chimney’s.

“Touche.” He had to chuckle.

“Do you like tobacco?” He asked.

“No, although hashish is popular back in the stables, if the sultanate states were still open, alcohol is illegal but hashish which is like tobacco but not quite since it comes from a different plant- is perfectly fine. But both can be hard on your lungs and mouras can be very sensitive to both, but here in England, it just depends on what’s fashionable at the time.” You reasoned as Demsey seemed to nod along with that sentiment as he took a longer sip of his drink.

“True.” Demsey agreed.

“So how are you liking it now?” You asked as you nodded to the drink.

“It’s growing on me.” He admitted.

“Yeah it does. Anything sweet usually does.” You grinned before you heard a cheering boom behind which inclined you to turn around to see what was going on to see Ramsey and Axal flamenco dancing with each other, their feet stomping very fast and rhythmically on the wood floors as Axal was wearing his matador masquerade outfit, it’s bright pink color and bejeweled state catching everyone’s eye but not to be outdone by Ramsey’s equally impressive baby blue one as well as Yalin and especially was cheering her son on while your mother and other members of your family were around cheering Axal on as well as you just shook your head, two peacocks flaunting their feathers at each other as Demsey looked on and just shook his head as well, having already exerted his own herculean amount of energy and spent it on Ms. Draft, wherever she would find herself now, although a quick scan of the crowd, he couldn't see anyone that looked even remotely like her. But he was with who he really should be spending his time with and now that he was with her, it was a different kind of comfort and happiness, but it was sadly tainted by guilt and strangely disappointment that didn’t make a bit of sense. Wasn’t this exactly what he was hoping for? To be with Audra, the real, authentic Audra, somewhat privately and all to himself? Then why, when he looked at her, he kept seeing glimpses of Miss Draft and why was he wishing that he was actually sharing this drink with her? What had happened in that room to change his mind? This morning he had been so sure that Sultana Audravienne was the one for him but something in Miss Draft had him hesitating and it didn’t make any sense at all.

But the way you were looking at Axal and Ramsey, caught his attention, you were...disappointed, or disinterested and clearly unimpressed as you just shook your head and turned back around and finished off your absinthe and got a menu as Demsey asked for one as well before you went ahead and shared yours with him.

“So what sounds good?” You asked him as you looked it over, already picking a few things out in your mind.

“Uh the lamb kebabs sound most appetizing.” Demsey answered before you grinned. It was a Medetteranian dish and right up your alley.

“The lamb kebabs it is then, the portions should be good size too, let’s share.” You suggested.

“Absolutely, I’ll defer to you, order whatever sounds best to you.” Demsey offered which got you to beam happily before the bartender came back and got your order as you went ahead and ordered everything that sounded good to share with Demsey and before you knew it you had taken up a good portion of the bar and had begun sharing a surprisingly good and wonderful meal together.

But what surprised you was how Demsey was correctly eating each dish.

“What?” Demsey asked as you paused in eating to watch him eat.

“It’s just, you’re the first Englishman who has known the right way to eat this. Most have no idea you’re supposed to use the bread instead of a knife and fork.” You explained as you copied his movements, using the bread to dip into the different sauces, scoop up the rice and the bits of grilled meats before bringing it to your mouth.

“Uh, well…” Demsey stuttered as he flushed with some embarrassment, because it had been Miss Audra Draft who introduced him to these dishes and had shown him the proper way to eat them. But he couldn’t tell you that, for fear you would think less of him for visiting a whorehouse, because the thought of you thinking less of him was worth than anything else he could imagine at the moment.

“Uh, there’s some orc dishes that are similar in how they’re eaten, it just...seemed natural and the right way to eat it?” He supplied, hoping you couldn’t see right through him.

“Some things just make sense I suppose.” You shrugged, having thought you’d have to explain everything but instead both of you had just dived right in.

“They do.” Demsey nodded as he quickly tried to stuff his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything else.

“So um, you obviously know much more about this cuisine, what can you tell me about it?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Well since you asked…” You grinned happily before you went through it again as Demsey was struck by how similar Miss Draft and you were, so similar in voice and mannerisms and gestures. It was almost like he was sitting next to her again as his heart almost strangely ached for her. But that was not fair to you. You were not her and she was not you. But the dishes themselves must be common knowledge among all mouras, he supposed.

But you couldn’t help but notice that while Demsey was still watching you and listening the best he could, the look in his eye and in his expression, it was like he was missing someone and you began to fear that there was perhaps another in his life, someone he had known before you ever met him. Someone his sisters did not know and maybe before Kate Whitesale. But one who clearly knew the Sultanate Quarter or Hanging Garden Quarter rather, of the stables because that’s where these dishes came from. What if the only reason he liked you, was that you were the legitimate copy of what he really desired? There were so many more mouras here in England than you realized and more than a few were a striking resemblence to you and most of whom, were actually commoners. What if you were the gentrified version of what he really wanted?

That would make sense. What if he came here, looking for her and couldn’t find her and instead settled for your company?

“Are you alright?” You asked.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine, just...I think the smoke is getting to me in this room too.” He tried to excuse, damning himself for not being completely present with you.

“Can I get a bottle of spiced rum please?” You ordered from the barkeep as you started dumping and piling everything on the largest platter as Demsey took your cue and followed your actions until everything was on the large platter before he paid the tab at the bar before he put the lid over the large platter as you grabbed the bottle of rum and followed you through the place where you found a staircase and climbed up it as Demsey followed you before you found what you were looking for, a balcony on the roof of part of the first floor. And on the balcony is where you found Calla and Tzane already sitting at one of the tables and eating something similar.

“Audra!” Calla called you over as you happily went over and pulled out two chairs before Demsey sat the platter down onto the table.

“I thought you two would be dancing.” Tzane noted as he sat next to Calla, the two of them practically sitting thigh to thigh and as close as could be without actually sitting in the other's lap.

“Not in the mood to dance tonight.” You confessed as you sat down as you noticed that Calla and Tzane had also foregone their masks that were on the table as well as you sat yours down as well as Demsey's since his hands had been full carrying the platter.

“But always in the mood to eat.” Demsey grinned happily as he took the lid off the large platter.

“Oooh, that smells really good.” Tzane praised.

“The Hanging Garden Quarter has some of the best food in all of Dorierra,” Calla grinned.

“Well I think this is too much for the two of us, if you want some, have some,” you readily invited as Tzane and Calla didn’t need to be told twice before they got their plates and loaded them up before they dug in themselves before Calla walked Tzane on how to “properly” eat it as the four of you fell into very easy and wonderful conversation before Calla noticed movement in the balcony of the second floor and her eyes went wide as she grabbed Tzane’s hand under the table and squeezed it hard which got him to look over to her before he followed her line of sight to see Ramsey and Axal making out on the edge of the balcony on the second story as he started to choke on his food.

“You ok?” You asked as Tzane punched Demsey in the leg under the table and subtly pointed in the direction he wanted Demsey to look before Demsey gave the direction a curious look just in time to see Ramsey finish kissing Axal before he went down to his knees and undid Axal’s pants and started to suck him off right there on the balcony and choked on his own food as well before you reached over and pat his back.

“You ok there Demsey?” You asked, concern clearly written on your face and in your voice before you head Axal groan a moan which caused you to turn your head just as Axal seemed to notice who was around and moved so that Ramsey was between himself and the balcony that looked down over the first balcony so that Ramsey was hidden from the view from below.

“Hey Axal,” You waived happily, pretending to be oblivious as Demsey, Tzane and Calla looked in horror at each other.

“Hey Audra.” Axal waived.

“Getting your cock sucked by the son of Pharoh?” You asked in Arabic since you knew Axal well enough to know that pleasured look on his face and didn’t want the rest of the table to know that you knew what was really going on.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“Well enjoy the night air, it’s a nice night tonight, keep everyone out of my hair, I’m with who I want to spend the evening with.” You called back in Marinai as Calla tried to recapture her composure.

“Will do!” Axal called back with two thumbs up.

“Uh...what...what did you say to him?” Demsey asked you as he tried to keep composed himself as Tzane was trying to gulp down the rest of the wine he had gotten for himself and Calla, down from the bottle.

“I asked if he was enjoying the night air, and when he said yes, I told him to keep enjoying it since it’s beautiful weather we’re having tonight.” You answered sweetly, continuing to act oblivious.

“Yeah, he’s enjoying it alright.” Tzane coughed into his fist as Demsey glared at his little brother as Calla just flushed as she drank down her glass of wine as well.

“Aren’t we all?” You asked with a scheming grin.

“Well, yeah, maybe not as much as he is though.” Tzane answered as he kept his gaze down at his plate before he tried to fill his mouth with food to keep himself from saying anything else as Demsey glared dangerously at Tzane before Benny and Sierge came out to the balcony as Benny was taking her hair down from its original style as the two still had that giddy, love drunk look with each other as it was clear that a tryst had just transpired between the two.

“Oh hey guys.” Sierge greeted cheerfully, as he came over before you scooted closer to Demsey who also scooted closer to Tzane so that Benny and Sierge would have room at the table.

“Oh good, you guys already ordered food, we worked up quite the appetite on the dancefloor.” Sierge said as he grabbed unused plates from the next table over and gave one to Benny before he helped himself the spread on the table.

“Among other places.” Benny cooed with a playful wink to Sierge who ducked his head and grinned bashfully as you simply smiled knowingly as you gave Benny a meaningful look and she gave a subtle nod that had you nodding along with her.

“Good.” You simply noted as you happily dug into your own food.

It wasn’t until the bluish orc came out, still wearing the rented suit that Demsey had been wearing earlier with Audra’s essences on it- came onto the balcony too with another lady with him before Sierge sniffed the air, turning his head and sniffing the air deeply in his direction.

“What does your bloodhound nose smell now? Does he have better food or what?” Benny teased Sierge.

“Uh, no, uh, I’ll tell you later.” He told her with a meaningful look as she looked intrigued as he sniffed that scent again before he turned back to the table and began sniffing again before his nose seemed to land on you before he quickly turned his head to stare at the platter of food as his eyes went wide for a moment before he seemed to try to be recomposed.

“Yeah, this food smells the best.” He tried to play off casually but he still gave you a weary look as he looked at Demsey who was staring at him in confusion as Sierge pointedly looked at Demsey, then at you then at the bluish orc then back to Demsey pointedly as Demsey just looked at him in complete confusion but sadly, your parents found you and pulled you back inside because they had requested the Hanging Garden Official Dance Anthem and felt you should dance too just as Ocearian found Axal only moments after Axal had cum down Ramsey’s throat and had gotten redressed and adjusted as you let your mother take your hand and lead you away as Calla and Bennie followed as Sierge grabbed Demsey’s arm to keep him from following along too.

“What?” Demsey asked.

“Audra, the Sultana, she has a lover, he’s that blue orc over there.” Sierge accused.

“What?!” Demsey balked.

“My nose doesn’t lie, I can smell her all over him.” Sierge insisted as Demsey looked from his brother to the orc in question.

“Find out for sure.” Demsey said before he left and quickly tried to catch up to you to see you already on the dance floor, surrounded by family as you all danced the danced in synchronized steps.

“Good evening sir, can I talk with you for a moment?” Sierge asked the gentleman.

“Uh, in case you couldn’t tell I’m kind of busy right now?” The guy answered.

“I’ll give you five pounds for five minutes of your time.” Sierge offered.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” The guy immediately told his companion before he got up and followed Sierge a short distance away.

“What?” He demanded.

“First, what’s your name?” Sierge asked.

“Robert Wainsright.” He answered.

“And your orc name?” Sierge prodded.

“What does it matter?” He protested.

“Ok fine, who have you been with tonight?” Sierge asked.

“Her! That’s the only one I’ve been around all night! Why does that matter?” Robert demanded.

“Because the scent on your clothes says otherwise, now tell me again, have you been intimate with anyone tonight?” Sierge demanded.

“What are you the fucking coppers? What business of yours is it who I’ve been with?” Robert protested.

“Because the smell on your clothes implicates you.” Sierge growled dangerously.

“Implicates me in what? A fucking murder?” Robert demanded angrily.

“You know what, fine, if you say you haven’t been with anyone other than the lady at the table, then I have no choice but to take your word for it, who is she by the way?” Sierge asked as he took out his wallet and began going through his bank notes to find the right one.

“She’s one of the workers for The Red Velvet Rope, she works in the kitchens.” Robert answered as he took the bill from Sierge’s hand.

“Thank you, that’s all I needed to know.” Sierge grinned triumphantly before he left and went back inside to see Demsey watching appreciatively as you danced with your family, with a bright happy smile on your face which brought a fond one to his own hands.

“And?” Demsey pressed Sierge.

“The guy’s name was Robert Wainswright and he claims the only one he was with was the lady he was eating with.” Sierge reported.

“Ok, well maybe your nose is wrong for once.” Demsey nodded and went back to watching you dance and enjoying yourself as Sierge fought with himself whether he should tell his brother or not but now was not the time or place and when the dance ended you ended up pulling Demsey to the floor to dance with you as Demsey, despite previously having no stomach for it, was suddenly all too happy to try to dance along to these strange dances with practically hypnotizing music but the best and yet the worst part was, to see your moura marks on your skin flow, pulse and flash like fireworks was both amazing yet, plagued him with guilt that he, once again, was forced to recall Audra Draft’s marks and how they would do the same thing. He needed to get over her. Maybe it would have been better if he had not seen her tonight and not been drawn in by that vixin's siren's call. Because then he would have focused completely on you. You deserved his undivided attention and affection and having you compete with any other would be a crime against the gods.

But he did feel kind of smug that if Ramsey got any closer to you, he had his own ace up his sleeve, to know that Ramsey was actually having intimate relations with your brother no less, you had told Demsey yourself that you were the jealous type and would not share your partner with anyone, much less a family member and when and if you ever found that out, you would immediately rid yourself of Ramsey for good, all he needed to protect himself from now on was his own implications with Miss Draft and he was as good as gold and as long as you never found that out, he was sure to win your affections honestly and wholeheartedly. Miss Draft had just been a bad mistake, made...thrice, but only thrice and no more.

Demsey didn’t care if he looked ridiculous, he was dancing with you, almost holding you on the dance floor and being so close to you, to have you smiling up at him like he was the only man in the world you had eyes for had his heart soaring and his pride beaming and his possessiveness over you almost insatiable. In this moment, yet again, he was overcome by his gut telling him that you, were the only woman in the world for him and that Miss Draft would from now on, only live in his past, never again in his future.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 13 #Wooooo #regency era orc drama #orc romance #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #exo #exophilia #whew #the plot thickens

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inkedtae · 4 years

Text

only you ⇾ kth. [M] | teaser

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ tsundere!taehyung x reader (f.) with a hint of sope (cameos by the members of txt)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ two shot, s2l, soulmate au, slow burn, fluff, angst-ish, lowkey thriller if you squint, tons of smut, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ upon realizing that not all soulmates are born within the same lifetime, artist kim taehyung tethers his soul to his canvas, painting himself into his art to preserve his life until his soulmate finds him. after your grandmother’s passing, you receive a century old painting by a mysteriously disappeared artist. the strangest part, however, is that you swear those tiger-wild eyes are following you.

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ tsundere!taehyung (tae is kinda mean to reader and other people he cares about because he’s awkward and doesn’t know how to express his love), dom!taehyung, slightly possessive!taehyung, mullet/ponytail/longhair!taehyung, artist!taehyung, [redacted]!taehyung, [redacted] enthusiast!taehyung, suspenders!taehyung, glasses!taehyung, sub!reader, lil bratty!rader, publisher!reader, mentions and false accusations of plagiarism ([redacted] gets falsely accused of plagiarism), brief mention of abduction (not explicit), mentions of death (not explicit), mild depictions of greiving (not explict), mentions of alcohol, mentions and mild depiction of a panic attack, [redacted] sex ([redacted] up), [redacted] sex, semi-[redacted] sex, [redacted] kink, lil [redacted] mark kink, [redacted] talk, [redacted], [redacted]ion, [redacted]ion, mutual [redacted]ion, multiple [redacted] (more than one [redacted] scene), [redacted]ism (reader catches taehyung [redacted] off), slight [redacted]ism, [redacted] (m. and f. [redacted]ing), taehyung’s a [redacted] virgin, [redacted] pulling, [redacted]-[redacted]ing, manhandling, [redacted]-eating, [redacted] slapping, [redacted]ing, [redacted]ing, [redacted]ing (with rings), thigh-[redacted]ing, [redacted]ing, groping, swearing, major mutual pining, [redacted] foreplay, lil [redacted] play, lil [redacted] play, [redacted] play? (reader plays [redacted] with Tae under the table), a cute lil [redacted]-making sprinkled in there too

Ღ banner/boarder: @daechwlta

Ღ beta reader: @kitsutaes

ღ le playlist

POSTED: 05 JUNE 2020 | 8:30PM EST

The inked are born with tattoos, carrying initials of their other half while the inkless do not. There isn't a clear pattern, or overstretched explanation for it. Your grandparents were soulmates but your parents aren’t. You once believed that you’d never experience such an encounter with your supposedly pre-destined other half. You never thought too much about the possible interactions you’d have when you meet your soulmate because you wholeheartedly believed you didn’t have one.

But here you are; inked. Never did you expect three little letters to affect your life so much. Upon returning from your grandmother’s funeral with an old painting you’ve never seen before in your life, you noticed the tattoo. You suspect it must have appeared after the funeral, given the fact that you were sure you didn’t find a trace of it before. The next series of events shattered whatever hope you had in trust. It is common practice for inkless people to find each other, many of them being turned off by the three letters. It never comes from a place of resentment, just precaution. No one wants to be in a competition they know they can’t win. An inkless person falling for an inked one must understand that they are fighting a losing battle. There is an innate connection between soulmates that is extremely hard to break.

You once shared these beliefs. However, upon finding the tattoo, your entire understanding of soulmates switched. Chad, your now ex-boyfriend, was all that mattered to you. You didn’t want to tell him, but you knew you had to. The conversation seemed to go well until he outright accused you of hiding the tattoo from him. He couldn’t fathom how something like that can just appear out of nowhere, especially since it’s widely unheard of. You still can’t believe how your boyfriend of three years can reject you all so quickly. Within a week, you were gone, settling in a smaller, dingier apartment than the one you once shared. Between losing your job and your boyfriend, the small apartment’s all you could afford.

Sighing at your reflection, you’re filled with sadness once more. You conclude that his possession of what once was, of the apartment you once shared, is rather a blessing. You can only imagine how insane you’d go if you were forced to stay in the same place you had shared so many memories. A stale bitterness coats your tongue as you shuffle out of your bathroom and back to your room. The cold air hits you hard, but the realization that you can only feel numb to the entire situation hits you harder. You want to cry, want to curse Chad and maybe even the owner of these initials, but you can’t find it in you to summon the emotions necessary.

Flicking on the lights to your room, you push any other thoughts of Chad away. That chapter of your life together is over, which he repeatedly made clear to you until your last day at his apartment. As you enter your room, your attention shifts from Chad to the painting. The canvas rests on the floor, propped up against your dresser. It’s been three months since the funeral and you still haven’t found the time to hang it up. It simply stays in your room, presenting the image of a young man staring back at you.

Sitting on your bed, you gaze at the canvas once again. Droplets fall from the tips of your damp hair and onto your mattress. Only a single towel covers you, wrapped tightly around your body. Slightly shivering from the cold air in your room, you stare back at the man in the painting. Fifty-two times you’ve stopped and stared at the, somehow persevered, canvas and fifty-two times you’ve wondered how the hell the artist managed to perfectly capture not only the essence of the man staring back at you, but the winter life of the little garden he sits in.

In the early birth of dusk, remnants of the setting sun shine behind the frost coated rose hedges of the garden. A few twinkling stars in the darkening night sky hover over the scene, but the man seems to only be enthralled by the presence of the viewer. Leaning on the edge of a broken fountain, he offers a little smirk. A simple pair of trousers are all that clothe him, his chest on full display for you to gawk at. You know he is only a painting, but holy fuck. Though his body isn’t chiseled, washboard abs nowhere in sight, you still find the little baby belly he has to be attractive all the same. Why the artist chose to have the man shirtless in the middle of winter, is beyond you. Either way, he looks so powerful and delicate. His stance tells a story of vigorous dominance while cherry blossom petals, fallen from the trees that frame the canvas, lay at his feet. The soft inclusion of the flowers only soothe his authoritative demeanor, calming and exciting you all at once.

And though the entire image is absolutely astonishing, capturing your attention in seconds, all you can really focus on are his eyes. Those cat-like- no, they’re wilder. Those tiger-wild eyes, a rich brown, hold such intensity. It’s hard for you to even think about turning away, especially when you know you can’t possibly maintain your gaze on them for too long. Sometimes, that look in his eyes is so strong you almost feel as though they follow you around your room.

Whose talent was able to capture such beauty? You can finally understand why your late grandmother held onto this painting now. Every glance uncovers another layer of beauty and wonder. Your yearning for the artist’s identity only strengths as you analyze the painting once more. Sliding off the edge of your bed, you sit on your knees before the canvas. You lean forward and scan the corners for some sort of signature. However, the canvas only holds the painting. What kind of artist doesn’t sign their work? You turn the canvas around, determined to find a name, a year, something worth noting. There, in the top right corner, you spot a scribble of a signature.

Vante, Spring 1920.

The painting is almost a century old. From all the times you’ve gazed at it, you would’ve never guessed it has been painted about a hundred years ago. How did it fall into your grandmother’s hands?

Beneath the signature, lies the following inscription:

inkless before you; only you.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#btswritingcafe #bangtanfairygarden #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #kim taehyung #bts kim taehyung #kim taehyung angst #kim taehyung fluff #kim taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut

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scarabbai · 4 years

Note

How does everyone view Kalim and Jamil’s relationship in the RR AU? Does it initially seem like they’re very close friends and people slowly realize they like each other as time goes on, or is it blatantly obvious from day one? Are there any particularly unique interpretations of their relationship from the other students? Sorry if I’m bombarding you with questions, but your AU has helped me get through a stressful week and I really enjoy it so far!

ANON IM SO GLAD MY AU BRINGS YOU JOY!!!!!!! Role reversed au makes me happy too so I’m super ;u; at the fact that it can bring other people happiness as well ;u;;; ALSO!! Please don’t worry about “bombarding” me with questions!! I LOVE questions!!! They help me think about stuff I haven’t considered yet in the au and tbh yall seriously know how to ask the REAL questions lmao

(Also as of me currently writing this, I don’t even have any other asks here aside from this one!! So if you want to send more...👀👀)

OKAY now for me to actually get to your question!!! I definitely think that upon their arrival at the school, they would have been read more as close friends and their attraction to each other would be less obvious. Not only were they both more guarded and cautious when they first got to the school (Kalim was busy getting a read on their classmates and the general school environment to sus out any potential threats or problems right off the bat while Jamil was SUPER uncomfortable and paranoid over being around so many people he didn’t know) but they also were roommates during their first year. Since it would be weird if Jamil, as a new student, somehow managed to get a large room all to himself, he went for the next best option by having Crowley assign both him and Kalim to a spacious two person dorm room (also a little weird, but a lot less suspicious than the alternative) so they wouldn’t have to deal with anyone they didn’t know. Bc of this, a lot of the stuff they said or did that came off as a little too close for them to just be friends was passed off as them being like that bc they shared a room.

Of course, anyone who paid close enough attention probably realized that Kalim and Jamil are definitely special to each other in a way no one else is. For example, even if Jamil is friends with some people at the school, he doesn’t let anyone touch him and is very big on personal space. Despite this, Kalim is always welcome to be physically affectionate without asking, and Jamil not only is content with Kalim hanging off his arm or draping himself over him but also gets touchy feely with Kalim in return. This kind of attention from Jamil is something no one else gets. On the flipside, Kalim is notably attentive to Jamil’s thoughts, feelings, and needs. Obviously he won’t share a good majority of what he knows, but it’s pretty obvious that Kalim knows practically everything about Jamil. He does a lot of little things to make him smile, and it’s not uncommon to catch Kalim staring at Jamil while he’s reading or studying. Both him and Jamil are in denial over their feelings, so they try to justify things to themselves/reason themselves out of it (Kalim tries to convince himself that he should just be carrying out his duties and nothing more, Jamil reminds himself not to read too deep into the way Kalim acts bc it could be false) but either way the trust between them is so solid it’s almost tangible. Considering these kinds of small moments of closeness would be most likely seen while they’re in the dorm, I feel like of all the people in the school, their fellow Scarabia dorm members would pick up the whole “yeah they definitely like each other but won’t admit it”/“are those two dating?” vibe from them first LMAO

I imagine a lot of their actual classmates, especially during their first year, wouldn’t care to look suuuper deeply into it and therefore may not have noticed. Out of all the students we know of, Azul would be the most likely to suspect that there’s something a bit different about their friendship than is normal, though I think the trail he’d be following would be that of their true identities rather than them liking each other. Considering Lilia is old as hell and has seen just about everything, he’d probably know more or less from day one that they like each other but decides to keep quiet about it so he can watch and see what happens. Also Rook DEFINITELY knows way before everyone else. He can just Sense It.

However, some stuff changes during second year when Jamil becomes dorm leader. By this point, Jamil has become WAY more secure and comfortable with staying at nrc, so his confidence is at an all time high and he isn’t laying low or sticking the shadows at all anymore. This makes him bolder and has him standing in the spotlight a lot more, which also means his interactions with Kalim become much more obvious. The way Jamil immediately appointed Kalim as his vice dorm leader upon getting the position is a bit telling as well. Due to their positions, they’re around each other even more than before, and they can often be seen discussing things or whispering plans to each other. Also, since they’re no longer roommates but still frequently are seen going to each other’s rooms (Kalim to Jamil’s room moreso than Jamil to Kalim’s room), that makes people looking on from the outside go 🤔 since they don’t know about Kalim’s duties and such. The end of ch4 and the rest of winter break is also SUPER awkward bc like. The feelings end up halfway out in the open but don’t get addressed and it’s just SO obvious by that point that it’s kinda ridiculous.

I feel like by the time they ACTUALLY get together after ch4, everyone in the Scarabia dorm, as well as some of Kalim and Jamil’s friends, will go “FINALLY” bc SERIOUSLY they’ve been disasters around each other for far too long 😔

#twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al asim #twst kalim #jamil viper #twst jamil #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #lilia vanrouge #kalim x jamil #twst lilia #rook hunt #twst rook #role reversed au #my stuff #responses

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luvskywalker · 3 years

Text

prideful piloting- ch 3

warnings: gets a little.. risqué, some unwanted advances, language probably

word count: about 1.8k

series masterlist !!

a/n: hi!! sorry it’s been a bit, ive been putting this one off for a while! hope you enjoy, there’s more poe in the next chapter btw :)

you were preparing to leave on your mission extremely early in the morning, it was quite a simple task. you were assigned a trip to coruscant, formerly an imperial hotspot in the first galactic civil war, and now run by the first order. the black squadron was the only group on this mission in order for you all to lay low. the assignment was to gather intel on what the first order was currently scavenging the galaxy for, because it seemed to be of great importance. your target was a general shalzar and your squadron would enter the fancy club he was set to attend in order obtain as much intel as you could. you approached the unmarked ship you were to take to coruscant, inspecting the exterior of the simple silver ship. walking up to the entrance of the ship, your departure was interrupted by damerons droid. the beeping and whirring of bb-8 made you pause your movements and turn around to see what he was fussing about. you were met with not only the droid, but also it’s owner.

“dameron?” you questioned, surprise evident in your speech.

“just wanted to wish you good luck” he grabbed your hand and shook it, adding a small pat as encouragement. he seemed sincere and for once in his life, not outrageously irritating.

“thank you.” you found his touch to be overwhelming, but you didn’t know why. you quickly pulled your hand away from his, and nodded his way hoping he would take the queue and leave. he did.

you then entered the ship, (and tried not to dwell on the strange interaction you just had with dameron) making your way to the cockpit to start on your pre-flight checks.

you turned on your comlink before departing d’qar, checking in on the squadron. you were all to leave at separate times in order to remain inconspicuous.

“this is admiral (l/n), departing now.”

your squadron all responded with acknowledgment, so you continued.

“remember, the mission information and your temporary identification are all on your data pad. i’ll see you all at the rendezvous.”

“glad to have you back admiral.” was the comment that caught your attention.

“glad to be back” you responded with a smile before turning your comm back off.

you took off, abandoning the jungle planet and setting route for coruscant, giddy to be back in an x-wing.

eventually, the full black squadron made their way to the rendezvous point. you were all dressed in the best clothes the resistance budget would allow, an attempt to camouflage in the high profile club. you entered the room, quickly spotting the general you needed information out of. you discreetly pressed the com hidden in your earring.

“i’ve got eyes. if things go bad do not tell them you are resistance. if i get taken just let me go.”

you couldn’t allow anyone else to get captured. if they got you, they’d bring you to kylo ren, and you knew how to deal with him.

you received acknowledgment from the squadron, and you put your personal plan into motion, which was to seduce general shalazar. he wasn’t too slimy looking, quite young and if he weren’t first order you may think him attractive. you watched him discreetly, and knew that all you had to do was make yourself look willing. when he finally met your glance you did your best to capture his his attention. you smiled at him, bit your lip, and twirled your hair, before winking and quickly glancing away. flirty, but not too seductive, something you know a man like him would fall for. you saw the general dismiss the troopers around him before sauntering over to you in your peripheral vision.

“what’s such a lovely lady like you doing all alone in a place like this?” could the man be any more predictable? it was nearly infuriating but you knew you had to play along.

“hoping for someone like you to join her” you gave him your best smile, twirling your hair again.

“good thing i did then, let me buy you a drink.”

“only if you get one too” you faked bashfulness. you had to get some alcohol in him, enough to have him let his guard down even more than he already has.

“a fuzzy tantuan for the beautiful woman, and a glass of darkoma for me please.” the general smiled at you, and you returned it.

“thank you, can i have a name to match such a handsome face?” you needed to be sure it was the general, and you knew knowing his name would make it easier for you to coax information out of him.

“general julius shalazar, and what’s yours gorgeous?” ugh, how charming. suppressing an eye roll, you gave him your false identity.

“vienna pane. i’m honored to be in the presence of such an accomplished man, i hope i can help” you paused your sentence to run your hand down his arm, attempting your seduction now. “alleviate some of the stress of such a high ranking man.”

“i’m sure you can” he took a few sips of his drink before continuing “right now i’m so busy it may have to be within the hour, i depart from coruscant soon, sadly.”

you pouted your lips, before turning up your charms. “only an hour of fun?” you were almost disgusted with yourself, touching the scum in such ways, but you knew it was for the sake of the mission. you rested your hand on his thigh now, and spoke to him again. “i cant imagine anything else being more important than me and you having a good time tonight”

to your dismay, he returned the touch to your own thigh, but then you knew you got him. you pretended to fiddle with your necklace, turning on the recording device.

“try finding a map for luke skywalker.” you did your best to calm yourself. they’re looking for dad. you once again pretended to move the necklace as a nervous act, this time turning the recorder off. you masked your shock in more flirtation, even though you got what you wanted you needed a way to get out of there without giving the womp rat anything. you definitely didn’t want to kiss him, and anything more would be incredibly unwanted.

“you must be so busy” you feigned sympathy and ran the hand that was on his thigh up and down slowly. you laid eyes on pava and gave her a small nod to signal that you got what you needed, and she relayed that to the rest of the black squadron before exiting the club and preparing for her scheduled departure.

“how about a distraction, general” you pat his thigh a little and he agreed with you.

“that would be nice, vienna.” he almost made it too easy.

he led you to the booth he was at before in a more secluded area of the club. you were still able to spot a member of the squadron though, so someone has eyes on your location.

you didn’t want to be with the general, but you’d rather sit with him then take a blaster shot to the head and fail your mission. the general pulled you into his lap, and ran his hands up and down your side. you really wished he wouldn’t touch you, but you did nothing to stop it, knowing that although you didn’t like it you had to let him. you were trying to stall, attempting to play games with him instead and doing your best to avoid the unwanted touches. you were saved when the troopers came back, telling the general he needed to go. he, however, was persistent and insisted on giving you his info, in case he needed a distraction. you took it, continuing with your act, before briskly leaving the club. gross. you shivered, your skin was crawling and your stomach was churning in disgust, but also you felt proud of such a success. you turned on your comm and let the squadron know you got the info and everyone could depart the planet at their scheduled times.

you changed back into more casual wear, and when you departed coruscant you let yourself think of the new information gathered.

“try finding a map to luke skywalker”

your father had departed long ago, leaving you and the rest of his family after ben became kylo ren. he felt it as a failure, and he had told to you that the force showed him he needed to leave- leave you and his family. you were quite young, and you didn’t fully understand why he needed to go, but general organa seemed to and assured you that he was right, he couldn’t be here. you had trusted her, and deep deep down you felt the same feeling your aunt and father had, telling you that you needed to separate from your father. still, it hurt you deeply that your father had left, and now you knew you needed to find the map before the first order. your heart ached at the thought of kylo ren getting a hold of your dad, it was his fault your dad was gone. you exhaled deeply, trying not to get your hopes up as you made the jump to lightspeed, but your eyes welled up at the possibility of seeing your father again. returning to base, you thanked the black squadron for joining you and having your back before heading off to give the general and the rest of the superior officers the mission report. leia directed her gaze to you and spoke.

“admiral, stay after you give the report please.”

did she know already? is that why she sent me on this mission? it wasn’t necessarily a pilots mission, she could’ve had other officers go, but did she send you because she knew what you would find out? you felt a little betrayed; why would she make you retrieve information if she already knew it? you shrugged it off and nodded at her, before playing the recording for the officers in the briefing room. the information caused quite the buzz and you ended up staying extremely late, not only giving the mission report but discussing what this meant as a high ranking resistance officer. when the room finally calmed, general organa dismissed them and turned to you.

“how are you feeling, (y/n)” the care the older woman held in her voice brought you deep comfort, and you spilled your true feelings to her.

“hopeful, yet so afraid. what if they find him before we do, aunt leia? i know there’s still good in ben but i don’t think he can resist snoke.” she silently agreed, and you continued on. “i just miss him, i want my dad back.” your voice cracked in the end, and you felt a lump form in your throat. your aunt grabbed your hand gently before looking you in the eyes.

“we’re going to find him. i know we will. but first, you’re going to need some training.”

#star wars sequel fic #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #jedi reader #jedi #the force awakens #star wars the force awakens #x reader

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 19

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky make the drive back home where he’s introduced to the family as your fake boyfriend. Absolutely everything is going to go great.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Domestic fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

AO3

The trip from New York to Boston was four hours filled with awkward silence. The only sounds to punctuate the tension were those of the drive itself, the hum of the engine, the sound of the windshield wipers, and the hiss of tires on wet pavement.

It was snowing fairly heavily, so when Bucky had offered to drive, you hadn’t given it a second thought. Chances of icy roads were high, and you figured he probably had some fast demon reflexes he could rely on to get you there safely.

Plus, it gave you an excuse to sneak subtle glances while he drove. Bucky was distractedly handsome in profile, and you wondered if he understood just how attractive he was. Even with his demon features hidden, tucked away under a kind of magical illusion you still didn’t understand, there was something about him that was… different. Like he was just a little too perfect to exist in the real world.

Or maybe you had it worse than you thought. You had half-hoped your feelings for him after the heigore attack had been the result of your close brush with death. That you had just been overwhelmed with gratitude and your self-confession had been a mistake. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case, and with each feeding you were only falling deeper in love with Bucky.

This trip, having him spend time with your family, in your childhood home, was only going to make it worse.

Shit.

The click of the turn signal drew you from your thoughts, and you looked out the snow-battered windshield to find the car exiting on the off-ramp. You hadn’t been paying attention but Bucky had known which exit to take without your guidance. An overwhelming mixture of emotions bubbled in your chest. You didn’t know what to do with them.

Ten minutes of navigating the streets of suburban Boston and you reached your destination. Bucky pulled up to the curb, put the car in park, and turned off the ignition. You couldn’t stop staring up at the two-story house, looking quaint and delicate covered in fresh snow. You hadn’t been here since last Christmas, and you didn’t know how to feel about it now. Too many things had happened and you weren’t the same. The last person who had walked into that house was a stranger to you now.

“Ready?”

Maybe he sensed your trepidation because Bucky’s question was soft and patient. You gave him a quick nod, unable to meet his eye. If you did, you’d start blushing all over again, reminded of how insane this plan was. But it was your plan, and if anything you were stubborn enough to see it through.

You got out of the car, immediately shivering and pulling your coat tighter around you as the snowflakes hit your face. You quickly opened the backseat and pulled out the carrier, shielding it with your body so poor Monster wouldn’t get pelted with snow.

You had always taken Monster on you with trips back home, and this would be no exception, even when Bucky had told you ‘the little beast can make it there on his own.’ When you asked what he meant, he’d tried to explain interdimensional travel through ‘wrinkles in physical space’ but your brain had shut off around that point. It had sounded more like a Tony Stark thing than hobgoblin magic, but what the hell did you know about cracks in the foundation of the physical realm?

Hurrying up to the front step, you shivered and scraped your boots on the doormat. You were just about to reach up to the doorbell when a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders.

You looked up at Bucky and he gave you a raised, amused brow. Right. Stage one of your plan and you’d already forgotten. Operation: Pretend to Have a Hot Boyfriend Who is Clearly Way out of Your League.

With an arm still slung around your shoulder Bucky reached up and pressed the doorbell. You clutched the carrier nervously, swallowing as the chimes echoed inside the house, accompanied by the sound of barking.

You’d forgotten Uncle Walter was bringing one of his dogs.

Shit. Shit.

Bucky stiffened beside you and your heart raced in panic. What if the dogs could sense he was a demon? They could tell these things, couldn’t they? Monster seemed to like Bucky, but he wasn’t a typical cat, and you were realizing you might be in over your head way more than you had originally thought—

The door swung open and you were pulled into a pair of warm arms in a tight hug before you could open your mouth to say hi. Bucky managed to retrieve the carrier from your hand as your mother hugged you tightly, squeezing the rest of the air out of your lungs.

“I missed you so much, sweetie! How was the drive? Did you have any trouble getting here? They said it was going to snow at least five inches and I know your car doesn’t handle the snow. You really should buy a new one, I keep telling you to—Oh, hello. You must be Jacob.”

Your mother finally released you, allowing you to breathe and try to sort out her whirlwind of questions, but all you could do was watch with a pounding heart as she turned to face Bucky.

You’d planned out most of the details of your fake relationship on the drive over. How long you’d been dating, where you’d met, etc. etc. It helped that Bucky already had a false identity that any of your family could look up if they wanted to (and they would, knowing how nosey they were), but…

…it didn’t prepare you for the actual encounter. Bucky had assured you he could handle himself, but now you were terrified. Not for your family for having a demon in their midst, but for the poor demon that was about to be exposed to the embarrassment that was your family.

“I am, ma’am,” Bucky said with a smooth, charming smile full of white teeth. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You blinked. The person you were looking at wasn’t Bucky. Or if it was, he was a Bucky you didn’t know. There was a bright, sincere smile on his face, lighting up his blue eyes in ways you didn’t think was possible. He held out his hand to her, the absolute picture of a polite gentleman, and you didn’t recognize the grump, cantankerous demon you’d come to know at all.

Your mom broke into a smile herself, something you’d never seen her do with a stranger before.

“Oh, come here, give me a hug.”

Before you could say anything, she drew Bucky into a tight hug, leaving you stunned and speechless. She had never warmed up to any of the (few) boyfriends you’d brought home, and now she was embracing him like Bucky was…

…part of the family.

Oh, no.

What was possibly worse was the vaguely amused smile Bucky was giving you over her shoulder. You couldn’t blame him; the look on your face was probably quite the sight.

By the time your mother pulled back from the hug, Bucky’s charming poster boy smile was back on his face. Where he’d learned to do that, you had no idea, but your mother seemed immediately enamored.

Greeting Aunt Rena and Uncle Walter next was more intense. Not because of them, they were both sweet and welcoming to Bucky, but because of the dog. They’d left most of their small herd of Chihuahuas at home, thankfully, and Uncle Walter had only brought the one—his oldest. She was an ancient thing, white fur covering her face, but she ran up to Bucky as if she had very important business to attend to.

Bucky froze as if the dog was a Doberman and not a wad of fur that barely weighed five pounds. She sniffed at the toes of his boots, and then his ankles, unable to reach higher, and she stared up at him through big glassy eyes.

When you sure she was about to start growling or barking, warning the humans of the demon amongst them, she jumped up onto her hind legs and scratched at his leg, wagging her tail and drawing her lips back into a doggy grin.

“Honey never likes anyone,” Aunt Rena said with a startled look at your uncle before looking back to Bucky. “You must be a dog-person.”

Bucky had knelt down and cautiously put his right hand forward after pulling off the glove. He kept his demonic arm covered, and would have to do so for the entire trip, but he let the dog sniff his human hand.

When he went to pet her, she jumped up and licked his chin, startling a laugh out of him. Like all the other rare times you’d heard him laugh, it left you warm and flushed and gawking like an idiot.

“Yeah, I used to be,” Bucky answered, still smiling. He had pulled the little Chihuahua into his arms where she squirmed happily, still trying to lick his face. “Haven’t had a dog in a few years.”

There was a hint of wistful sadness there so faint you wondered if anyone else but you noticed. You hoped they didn’t. It was stupid and childish, but you were starting to feel… jealous? Left out? Over the fact everyone adored your fake boyfriend, and he seemed to like them back.

“I’m going to go get the bags,” you said, setting down Monster’s carrier and opening the door. The hobgoblin sauntered his way out of the cage and peered around as if looking over his kingdom.

Honey hunkered down in Bucky’s arms, trembling and whining at the sight of the pseudo-cat. The dogs had always been terrified of Monster, even though he’d largely ignored them, and now you knew why. Apparently they were fine with demons, but hobgoblins went too far.

“I’ll grab them,” Bucky immediately volunteered with an easy smile, setting the Chihuahua gently on the ground. You narrowed your eyes at him, seeing right through his attempts to win over your family, which was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. So why were you suddenly so annoyed about it?

“Be right back.”

Bucky kissed you on the head before retreating out the front door, and just like that, your annoyance was gone and filled instead with mortifying embarrassment when all three adults gave you various expressions of affectionate fondness and teasing.

You didn’t know if anyone had ever died from being kissed on the forehead, but if not, you were going to be the first.

Bucky brought in the bags and your mother directed him up to the guest bedroom. You were trapped downstairs for the next half hour with the obligatory catching up with your family, which was a trial even during the best of times, let alone right now when you were desperate to get away to talk to Bucky. He hadn’t come back downstairs since putting away the bags, and you’d wondered where he’d disappeared to.

Sure, they were your family, but you didn’t want to have to suffer with them alone.

When you were able to finally excuse yourself, pointedly ignoring your mother’s curious look, you went upstairs and found Bucky in the guest bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression blank and far away. The snow in his hair had melted and dried, leaving his long brown strands slightly wavy.

“Bucky?”

He drew in a sharp breath and looked up at you, blinking before rubbing his face.

“Sorry. Was… lost in thought. I didn’t mean to—I can come down if—“

You interrupted him by sitting beside him on the bed, close enough for your arm to brush his, but you didn’t reach out to touch him. You had a suspicion as to what had happened, and your stomach churned uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re a little weird at first, but they mean well. I can tell them to lay off if they’re being too much.”

To your surprise, Bucky merely smiled. It was close-lipped and soft, but somehow still warm. Once you met his eye you couldn’t look away, and a part of you wondered if he realized the hold he had on you. A power that had nothing to do with demon pacts and bonds.

“It’s not that. Your aunt and uncle are wonderful, and your mom is… She reminds me of my own mother.”

It took everything in your power not to reach out and hug him, and you gripped the edge of the better tighter so you wouldn’t.

“What’s wrong, then?”

Bucky chewed his lip and looked away. It wasn’t until his gaze fell on the closet on the opposite side of the room that it finally clicked for you.

“Oh.” The breath rushed out of you as if you’d been gut-punched. “I didn’t… think to warn you.”

Of all the things you could have forgotten, how could you forget to tell him you would be staying in your old room? The room where he’d first come through the portal. Where the pact had first been made. Where you’d first met in an encounter you didn’t remember, the memories taken away by Buck himself?

“This is where your bed used to be,” he said, slightly patting the mattress you were both sitting on. “Only it was sideways against the wall. You had a dresser over there. Some kind of poster on that wall; I think it had dinosaurs on it. And…”

His brows furrowed but a small smile touched his lips. “A large stuffed animal cat in that corner. You really liked cats, didn’t you?”

You hunched your shoulders, but it was too late to stop the warmth on your cheeks. He really remembered all that?

“Yeah. Cats were my thing, I guess.”

Remaining quiet for a moment, you finally had the courage to ask. “Should… should we rent a hotel? I mean, if it’s too… too weird staying here. Because of… you know. The whole portal thing… and… all that.”

“Why would it be weird for me?”

His genuinely confused tone forced you to look him in the face. He really didn’t seem to understand what you were getting at judging by the furrow on his brow.

“It sounded like it had been kind of traumatizing for you, right?” you asked. “I mean, I really don’t mind if you want to go somewhere else—“

He said your name, softly and with so much fondness it made your face burn again.

“I don’t think I’ve made this clear, but… you saved me that day. Did you know that?”

You shook your head, eyes firmly planted on the faded pink carpet under your feet.

“Well, you did,” he continued, his voice a gentle rumble that sent chills up your spine. “I was in a literal Hell before I came through that portal. And I was trapped there for a long, long time. I don’t know how you did it, and frankly, I don’t really care. I’m just grateful it happened, though I wish…”

You chanced a glance up at him when he stopped speaking, forcing yourself to meet his eye no matter how difficult it was. This seemed important to him, so it was important to you, too.

His blue eyes roved over your face slowly, as if memorizing every detail, and it was very difficult to keep still under that piercing stare. It had always had the strange effect of both making you want to hide from it while also making you want to drown in it.

“I wish what had followed hadn’t happened. If I hadn’t accepted that toy from you, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t be trapped, forced to be a… a sex slave.”

“A sex slave?” You scoffed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “Bucky, I’m not a—“

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, desperate and earnest, as if needing you to understand. “That’s exactly what you are. No matter how we dress it up. You bringing me home to your family doesn’t change that. Nothing will.”

You turned away from him, now out of frustration rather than shyness.

“Bucky, we’ve been over this already. However this happened, whatever the situation is, I’m not going to blame you. You’re not a monster, you’re not hurting me, and I refuse to hate you no matter how much you hate yourself.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, and interrupted him to say, “I like you, Bucky. Okay? I like you a lot. So… shut up.”

His brows rose high on his forehead and you flushed but refused to look away, ready to argue with him if he refused to listen.

But all Bucky did was smile the tiniest amount and said, “I haven’t had someone tell me to shut up in a long time. Maybe it was due.”

He was definitely teasing you now, and the tension in your shoulders relaxed. You much preferred teasing over self-loathing.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you say dumb stuff.” You raised your chin, daring him to contradict you. “You’re kind, likeable. Charming. My family is already about to adopt you and they’ve known you for less than a day.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause they don’t know me. If anything, they’re fond of the chipper, bright-eyed idiot I used to be. That’s where I’m pulling that act from. My methods may be a few decades old but parents are parents.”

“You weren’t an idiot,” you said softly, remembering now the pictures you had pulled up when you first researched the demon you’d encountered in your bedroom. He really had been the starry-eyed youth Bucky described, but you remembered very clearly the stark difference between some pictures during the war. The ones where he’d looked like any other young man in his 20s, excited to go off and fight for his country.

And then there had been the ones where he’d still smiled at the camera, but his cheeks had been gaunt, the circles under his eyes dark, and the glaze of his eyes had been haunting.

The after-HYDRA pictures.

Blowing out a breath, trying to expel your sadness physically as well as mentally, you leaned your head against his shoulder. You waited to see if he tensed or moved away, but all you felt was the warm hardness of the plates of his arm underneath his jacket.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky said, voice equally soft. “I could have been the biggest idiot in the world. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was. Steve would agree with me.”

“Steve Rogers?” you asked, perking up. Captain Rogers’ backstory was practically known to everyone on the planet, and you’d waited for Bucky to mention him. You’d never imagined you’d get to know Steve Rogers’ best friend. Or that his best friend had turned into a demon.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said, voice lilted with amusement. You took it as a sign that this was a safe topic, so you pressed on.

“What was he like?”

Bucky snorted again, and you weren’t expecting the arm that wrapped around your shoulders. You prayed he didn’t feel your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Reckless. Too eager to jump into a fight he knew he would lose. Stupid and brave in equal parts. Reminds me of you, actually.”

“Thanks.”

He chuckled at your dry tone. “I mean it, though. About the brave thing. Most people would have turned tail and run at the first sight of me.”

You shrugged under his arm, nestling your cheek against his shoulder.

“I’m not brave. I’m afraid, all the time, of lots of things. But you didn’t scare me.”

He squeezed his arm tighter around you and a pleasant warmth prickled along your skin.

“You probably should have been. Not very smart of you to try and befriend a demon.”

“Hmm. Guess we’re both idiots then, huh.”

“Guess so.”

After a few seconds of silence, you added, “So, we’re definitely friends then, right?”

“Oh, my God,” he groaned.

“You did say I befriended a demon—“

“Woman.”

You snorted out a laugh, and his long-suffering sigh brought out a few more muffled giggles. He was too easy a target, and you were pretty sure he liked the teasing regardless of how much he moaned and groaned about it.

Besides, he hadn’t contradicted you. Knowing that he saw you as at least a friend, if nothing else, made the trip already worthwhile.

You could have remained like that for the rest of the day, leaning against Bucky’s warm side with his heavy arm around your shoulders. Hell, you would have been content with this for the rest of your life.

Did Bucky have any idea how you felt? What would he have thought, if he did? Knowing his levels of self-loathing, he wouldn’t be ready to hear it.

Which was one of the reasons you had invited him on this trip. All the excuses you had given Bucky were true: you had the feeding to think about, and there was the possibility of other demons lurking around.

But the true reason you’d asked him to come was to show him how you felt. That you trusted him, cared for him, and wanted him to be a part of your life, bond or not. There was always the chance it would backfire and that he would push you away again, but you would rather try and fail then never try at all. Imagining leaving Bucky alone during the holidays, holed up in that freezing tower, was unacceptable.

He would just have to suffer with overbearing family, Christmas carols on the TV, and heavily-spiked eggnog with you instead.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Bucky said, gentle puffs of air tickling your hair. “Don’t want them to think I abducted you.”

“Mmm.”

You’d meant to say something more intelligent than that, but you hadn’t realized how tired you were from packing this morning and then the drive. It was getting close to dinnertime, and you could already smell the spices from something being cooked downstairs.

“Come on.”

Bucky easily lifted you to your feet and you protested with a resentful sigh. His returning smile made your stomach do funny flips, but it was nothing compared to the squirming it did when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Bucky for the next few days.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Next Chapter

#bucky barnes #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky barnes x reader #my writing #my fanfiction #branded

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ninaninndraws · 4 years

Text

#ADRICHAT RIGHTS

To be fair, he couldn't have seen this coming.

I mean, yes, he was a superhero and also a famous model, so yes, he was kind of used to people to ship him with other models and Ladybug. But this?

People were shipping him, Adrien Agreste, with him, Chat Noir, and the ship was quite popular!!

[[more]]

At school people stared directly at him before making the worst cat puns ever, to make him blush, the girls wouldn't leave him alone, saying how Chat Noir was so cute and the beautiful couple they would be.

And, yeah, it was kind of Adrien's fault for supporting his hero self in his civilian for and then coming out as gay.

Everyone thought he had a crush on the hero! Even his father!! Even Ladybug and Hawkmoth!!

I mean, the fact that the akumas were lately being attracted to his school and making him his hostage couldn't be casually.

And Ladybug saving him and being a blushed mess like "Hot guys in black leather, am I right?" and he only could nod, bc she was calling HIM cute!!

"Don't worry, Adrien, your back cat will arrive soon, he's always a little late, he's such a dramatic kitten" and with those words Ladybug disappeared through the buildings where she left him to be safe.

Chat Noir arrived to the scene to hear Ladybug being the sassy queen she was yelling at the Akuma.

"What's happening, Hawkie? Jealous that Adrien Agreste likes our Chaton ?? Why that need of hurting him?? Do you want Chat Noir only for you or what?" and God...

The fight had been a good one, Ladybug fixed all the damage, but when the interview time appeared, it wasn't Ladybug, but Chat Noir the one who was being harassed by the reporters.

"Chat Noir! Chat Noir!! How does it feel having a super model AND a magic terrorist head over heels for you??"

"Chat Noir! Here! Can you confirm or deny any rumor of the jealousy of Hawkmoth to the forming model who is in love with you? Why is it? Does he have a reason to be jealous?"

"I-" Chat couldn't even speak nor clarify anything, he only had one last solution, he could make up a false relationship with someone who wouldn't deny it right? someone who he knew wouldn't mess it up... Maybe Marinette? No, she had too many stuff in her plate right now, and she was going to hate him if she really believed that Adrien loved him. He sighted, there goes all the peace he could have had.

He clapped his hands to have all the reporters' attention.

"I am in a relationship with Adrien Agreste, it was supposed to be secret in order to not put him in danger, but looks like my sunshine isn't too good at keeping secrets" he blushed so bad at the nickname, but he couldn't help it! It was embarrassing to talk about himself in third person and with a cheesy nickname!

Ladybug looked at him with pity. Chat's heart skipped a beat, could she know..?

"Well, we will try our hardest to end Hawkmoth once for all so he doesn't hurt your boyfriend" no, of course she was only trying to help him, she was like that, and he couldn't help it but give her a sad smile, if only she knew how difficult it was going to be for him.

"And I will ask personally to a good friend of mine to make sure no one harasses Adrien. She goes to his same school, I'm sure you know her, Marinette Dupain Cheng" he nodded and made up an excuse to leave.

Plagg laughed at him the whole week.

Marinette did what Ladybug told him, she didn't leave his side and brought him breakfast and some coffee, also she had made some "AdriChat Protection Squad" t-shirts that she wore for school and Ladybug also wore to the patrols.

Lila and Chloe didn't even have a chance with Momma Bear Marinette.

They tried to get near him and cling to his arms? Marinette appeared and asked Adrien if he was uncomfortable, which he was, and then practically yeet both of them across the corridor.

With Ladybug claiming that she and Marinette were good friends, all of Lila's lies started falling apart until she was alone.

Nino and Kim joined Marinette in the protection squad. She being the natural leader she was having plans for everything.

Akuma? She would have different plans for Adrien to scape, most of the times he ended up in her room, until Chat Noir apparently decided to hide him in another place.

Actually, since Marinette started with her planning, Chat Noir had appeared so much faster than ever, and without having to worry about if someone discovered his identity, he was so much competent and the fights didn't even last half as it used to.

Adrien was free to be with his friends more often, since media started attacking Gabriel for not letting his son have a life when he tried to knock the ship down.

Maybe Adrichat wasn't a bad idea after all..

Poor Hawkmoth, even he had some stans... Adrien couldn't help but feel pity for him.

#adrichat #ChatMoth #fanfic #mlb fanfic #miraculous adrien #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrien sugar #Gay Adrien #Ladybug #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #hawkmoth #Let's make Adrichat trending again

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johannstutt413 · 4 years

Text

(requested by anonymous)

“Sir SilverAsh?” Siege, hammer slung on her back, approached the CEO before they departed. “I’ve been assigned as your bodyguard for this assignment. Doctor’s orders.”

“Hmm...I didn’t request a Rhodes Island detail.” His eyes narrowed slightly.

She shrugged. “I saw the tasker and volunteered to fill it; why he sent it out is another matter.”

“Understandable.” He gave her elevator eyes, only to realize she’d given him the same. “Sizing up your ward?”

“More or less. I agree it doesn’t make much sense for the Truesilver Slasher to have a guard, but my hammer’s getting restless, so I am as well. Hopefully there’s enough action for all of us.”

SilverAsh smirked. “This is a business contract, so I don’t expect it’s likely to come to blows in that fashion, but I’ve certainly spilled more blood at less promising venues before.”

“Less promising?” Siege crossed her arms. “As in more peaceful?”

“More docile; none of these companies are truly peaceful, as I’m sure you’ve seen here at RI. Business is ruthless, and those at the top are absolute monsters...Hence my swordsmanship.”

She nodded. “Then let’s hope the monsters put up a decent fight.”

“Certainly.” He thought for a moment before extending his hand. “Enciodes SilverAsh, Chief of the Silverashes.”

“Verna, leader of Glasgow.” She shook his hand with near equal grip strength to his, despite the notable size difference. Encio took note of it, but not too seriously. After all, if the Doctor was going to send someone, it had to be someone Encio himself would have more trouble dealing with than it was worth...The fact that she was rather attractive only helped ensure that.

After taking a moment to decide which of them would enter their transport first (Encio, they determined after a bit of posturing), they set off for their destination: a merger negotiation with a small firm out of Victoria. Upon realizing where this meeting was being held, it clicked with Siege why the Doctor wanted to send her with SilverAsh...and also the reasons he should have sent someone, anyone else from Victoria besides Indra in her stead.

Those guarding the entrance to Victoria were particularly interesting in her presence in the three-vehicle procession. “Ey, wuddja lookee ‘ere! Glasgow’s finest, in the flesh! We’ve been waitin’ for you lot to come back-”

“I think you’ll find you’re mistaken,” Encio asserted. “This is Operator Siege of Rhodes Island, not whoever you’re talking about. Are you done making your false accusations and unnecessarily rifling through our papers?”

“...You don’t wonna mess with us, guv’na.”

His sword began to glow. “Likewise, gutter-lover.”

“Well that’s a new ‘un, itn’t it?” The copper drew his baton. “You wonna take a tumble, you bloody-”

“Sir SilverAsh has business in the city. This man could buy your entire precinct tomorrow; do you want to start a fight with your future boss while he isn’t concerned with your future in his company?”

Verna’s interruption gave both parties pause. Eventually, the border cops shrugged. “Eh, itn’t worth it. Let ‘em thru!”

“Thank you, Verna,” Encio said once they were out of earshot. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to deal with authorities as well as management, but it’s always better to avoid needless bloodshed.”

“Of course, Sir SilverAsh.”

He smiled. “Please, Encio’s more than fine.”

“After our business here, certainly, we shall be on first-name terms,” she replied, “but while we’re here, I’ll be playing a role to keep my identity under wraps.”

“As you wish.”

Siege shook her head. “I would recommend not holding future meetings in Londinium, whenever you can avoid it. Its residents, as a whole, leave something to be desired regarding their conduct.”

“Oh, really?” Encio leaned back in his seat. “Criminals?”

“Idealists.”

He blinked. “Idealists? Is there a rebellion fomenting here?”

“There’s a rebellion happening here.” She slipped a lollipop into her mouth. “Gangs rule the streets, whatever the authorities say. Glasgow used to hold territory here, but since we left for Rhodes Island, I doubt the others haven’t filled in the gap we left.”

“I see. Thank you for being candid with me, Ver- Siege.”

She nodded. “However I can be of service, sir.”

“Yes...” He looked out his window, mostly to keep himself from staring at her. “I’ll be taking you up on that, I’m sure.”

“Please do; I don’t make such offers lightly.”

As they arrived at the compound where they were meeting, it became clear they were not the first ones there...and judging by the bodies outside, they weren’t the only ones prepared for violence. Their team - SilverAsh and Siege, as well as Courier, Matterhorn, and a few others from the Silverash private military and the Karlan Trade Company, Ltd. - entered the premises after Siege busted through the thoroughly-locked door; she led the charge, bashing through the sturdiest of competition (specifically barriers to forward motion, like closed doors and inconvenient walls) while the rest cleaned up behind her...Until, that is, they reached the board room, where a single shot to her flank left her in need of medical attention. Those inside realized they’d shot one of their rescuers, however, as their future business partner entered the room.

As his medic stabilized Verna, Encio turned to the board of directors he was scheduled to meet with. “Which one of you shot her?”

“I did,” the company head admitted. “We didn’t realize she was one of yours-”

“Clearly. Your company’s assets will be subsumed within the week; use that time to prepare for interviews with my staffers.”

There was a commotion among the group, with one speaking towards SilverAsh. “Sir, we’ve been heading this company for some time-”

“And you expect some special privilege for that?” His sword was glowing inside its hilt. “You’re lucky you have this chance at all.”

“This is a hostile takeover! We won’t stand for this!”

Encio smiled as he drew his blade. “You won’t be standing at all, then.” One stroke, and the entire board, save one particularly meek individual, found themselves dead.

“...Thank you for sparing me, Sir.” The survivor kicked the corpse of the chairman out of his seat and sat down. “I’ll have an inventory of our assets ready when I have my interview.”

“See to it that it’s a complete one. I’m giving you another chance because you clearly aren’t from the same cloth as the others; prove me right.”

He stood and bowed. “Of course, sir...Is she going to be alright?”

“Morphine, status?” The Perro medic gave him a thumbs-up. “And with that, our transaction is complete. We’ll take you to a safer location, assuming you have digital access to your records?”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”

Encio nodded, his eyes focused on Siege. “Come along, then. Is she stable enough to move?”

“Definitely,” Morphine confirmed. “The bolt itself mostly struck her intestines, so the regen work was fairly straightforward. She’ll want a work day of bedrest to make sure it holds and nothing leaks, but knowing her record, she’ll be right as rain not too long from now.”

“Good...Matterhorn, carry her to the car, please.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Set her next to me once we’re in the car.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not leaving anything to chance...”

The trip back to their caravan was straightforward; however, Encio requested they take a different, more elaborate route out of Victoria in order to avoid further skirmishes. Verna was asleep for the next few hours, SilverAsh holding her so that the occasional roughness of the roads didn’t aggravate her injury. Upon reaching their first stop, she began to stir.

“...Sir Silverash...have we left Victoria?” Her voice was quiet, but not necessarily soft.

“We have, Verna.” He helped her sit up next to him. “You don’t feel like your organs are about to spill out, do you?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Should I?”

“They nearly did. My medic took care of it, but-” Before continuing that sentence, he thought better of it.

“But?” When he replied with silence, Verna sighed. “How did the deal go?”

Encio gestured to the new former CEO. “Our takeover was swift and efficient. He’ll handle their documents, and if he does well enough, we’ll find a place for him in the company.”

“...And what happened to the others?”

“Their chairman shot you, and everyone but him showed no visible reaction.” His face hardened. “That was simply unforgivable.”

She cocked her head. “Not to imply a lapse in judgment, but was that strictly necessary?”

“No, it wasn’t, but I got very little blood on my sword before that point, and their injuring you infuriated me immensely.”

“I see.” Verna mused over this for a moment. “Why?”

He shrugged. “You’re one of my people, and I don’t take that lightly.”

“That didn’t take very long. Any particular reason you decided this so quickly?”

“Well...you might look at it as an investment.” Encio smiled at her. “An investment in the future.”

She nodded. “So you’re thinking of your succession, then?”

“...Not just that-”

“I’m familiar with the concept, Encio.” Verna smiled back at him. “So long as you realize I don’t plan on leaving the battlefield and respect that appropriately, I’d be willing to give you an heir...or several.”

He blinked once, twice, thrice, before replying. “You’ve just made my life so much less complicated.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that. My past comes with some heavy baggage.”

“I’m no stranger to heavy loads, Verna.” He put an arm, and some of his greatcoat, around her shoulders. “And with one of my more pressing concerns dealt with, I’ve got strength to spare.”

She set her head against his side. “You have a very nice coat.”

“If you’d like, I can have one like it made for you.”

“No, that’s fine.” She realized she was purring, but honestly, she’d just secured her own bloodline as well and was basking in the moment, and Encio would be hearing far more than just her purring. “We can share this one.”

#arknights #silverash (arknights)#siege (arknights)#i've claimed siege is noble before #so i wouldn't be surprised if she wanted an heir #i mean even if she's not actually royalty #she might just want a pride of her own #and with silverash's own need for a successor #it kind of works #they're also both powerful warriors #so it makes sense #this is way too many tags #arknights fic

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