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fruitcoops · 3 years

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I'm not the anon that asked about Remus and subspace/aftercare but I'd love to see more of it if/whenever you would like/have time💜 The way you write these things is so respectful, loving, and comforting and I love it so much!

Thank you so much, anon! I hope everyone who requested this enjoys it <3 Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for implied smut (not super explicit), nudity, aftercare, subdrop/ subspace, restraint, tears (the good kind)

“Easy,” Sirius murmured into the sweaty skin of Remus’ neck, holding him close as he splayed his hand over Remus’ belly. The muscles jumped under his palm and a shudder ran through him as he scrambled for a clumsy hold on Sirius’ arm and shoulders. “Re, easy.”

A hoarse whine slipped out beside his heaving breaths and he let out a low moan when Sirius adjusted his grip to keep him upright. “More,” Remus begged, grinding his hips back even as he shook through the aftershocks. “More, more, more—“

“You’re done,” Sirius interrupted gently, pressing a kiss to the junction of his neck and shoulder.

Remus shook his head frantically. “No, no, I can do it, I gotta, no, please.”

“You’re done.” Sirius leaned back to take more of his weight despite the fact that he was practically holding Remus already. He slid the arm locked across Remus’ chest up to brush the damp hair from his eyes and guided his head to lay back against Sirius’ shoulder. “Deep breaths for me, just like that. In and out.”

“I can’t,” Remus panted, swallowing hard as he gripped Sirius’ thighs weakly. “Baby, please, just—just let me—one more time, just one more.”

“Remus.”

“I’m sorry.” A tear squeezed from the corner of his eye, following the path of many from the throes of pleasure that had left him gasping in the way Sirius loved. “Fuck, it’s always so much. ‘m tired, and ‘m horny.”

Sirius kissed his cheek and ran slow fingers through his curls until Remus went boneless into his chest with a punched-out sound; he closed his eyes and snuggled into Sirius, rubbing his cheek along his collarbone. “There you go,” he praised quietly. Slipping into subspace wasn’t super common for either of them, but when it did happen, Sirius was only too happy to help him through it.

If his memory served, Remus’ adrenaline would finally be draining and the steady slide into the land of the living was beginning. His own drop was a little different, but he recognized the signs well enough. “Love you,” Remus managed, watching him with hooded, adoring eyes. “Love you. Y’know I love you, yeah?”

“I do,” he assured him, laying back to pull Remus onto his chest—they were entangled almost instantly as Remus mouthed aimlessly along his chest and shoulders. Teeth sank into the ridge of his collarbone. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, snuggling closer. His hair was a mess from both their hands and his lips were swollen red, sure to be chapped when the shine faded. Sirius felt guilty for half a second before remembering that Remus was the one who bit his own lips when he got close. And, fuck, had he been close.

“How are you feeling?” He inspected the light scratch marks on his forearms as Remus’ heartbeat went from rabbit-quick to just-worked-out. Maybe we should have chosen a different position for the end, he thought, then shook his head. Marks on his forearms would be less likely to get chirped than ones on his back.

“Alright.”

“How can I help you?”

Remus made a face, but didn’t open his eyes. His thigh was slick and tacky where it rested on Sirius’ hip. “Warm. Uncomfy. Don’t wanna go.”

That was the hardest part of aftercare, in Sirius’ opinion. Remus’ accent was pretty mild most of the time, but it came out full force after something intense and the small fragments of words rarely connected with Sirius’ limited English as his own brain came back online. Still, it was the least he could do after Remus worked him through five straight minutes of rambling French each time he dropped.

“Water,” Remus sighed, toying at the sheets with a trembling hand. “Sticky.”

“I’ll get a washcloth when you’re ready.”

“Take m’ with you.”

Sirius laughed softly and kissed his forehead, pushing the heel of his hand along Remus’ spine to work out any knots or stiffness. His knees ached, and he wasn’t even sure if he could carry his own weight before a few moments of rest. “I can’t carry you yet, mon coeur.”

“Sexy nickname. Sexy times.” Remus hitched his leg up over Sirius’ hip with great effort. “More?”

“Not right now, sweetheart.” A dopey smile spread over his face and Sirius felt a well of affection bloom in his chest. Remus hummed, running his thumbs over the middle of Sirius’ ribs. “Good job. Are you coming down a little more?”

“Mhmm.”

“I’m going to keep holding you, then get a washcloth, then some water, okay? But I’m not going anywhere right now.”

“Sticky.”

“I know. We’ll fix that in a minute or so. Was that good?”

Remus squirmed around until his front was pressed against Sirius side, sharing their radiating warmth. “Real good.”

He traced the outline of his mouth with the pad of his thumb and smiled when Remus nipped at it. “Your lips look sore.”

“Hmmm.”

“Next time, we should remember to use a gag if I’m not keeping an eye on you.”

Remus looked up at him eagerly, his gaze clearing of some of its fogginess. “Yeah, yeah, for sure.”

“How’s the rest of you?” Sirius watched him carefully as he straightened all his limbs with a heavy sigh, making faces here and there. “Nothing too bad?”

“Knees hurt, but I like it. Fingers are a little sore.” Mischief flickered over his face. “Ass hurts.”

“Color me shocked,” Sirius deadpanned, drawing a snort from him. “It wasn’t too much?”

Remus shook his head and stretched; his back arched, then popped, and he flopped back down with a contented noise. “Nope.”

“You look better now.”

He raised an eyebrow and rolled to face Sirius, bringing him closer with a hand on his cheek. “I needed that.”

Sirius nuzzled their noses together. “Any time, mon loup.”

They had moved well past adrenaline, latent arousal, and dizziness, and he was willing to bet Remus would be okay in bed alone for longer than a minute or two soon. The stress of a week of back-to-back interviews from people questioning every aspect of Remus’ life as the new rookie had just built and built and built until he had snapped over dinner, his rare temper flaring up before he looked Sirius dead in the eyes and all but demanded to be fucked until he couldn’t think about anything else.

“Way-it,” Remus said into the skin of his shoulder. Sirius hummed in question and felt a hand pull at his waist. “Weight, please.”

Sirius gathered him close and maneuvered until he could press down on Remus without making him feel trapped—my own personal weighted blanket, Remus teased. “Better?”

He felt the steady rise and fall under him and the buzz of a happy sound in his neck. Remus always got cuddly once he was done with the desperation and the confusion; that was the part that stuck around longest, and if Sirius was being honest, his favorite part of the whole process. For someone who was usually so ambiguous about physical contact, he could be wonderfully tactile.

There was a fine art to making sure the transition was as smooth as it could be—it was a team effort, despite the fact that Remus was fairly out of it for the first half. Sirius rubbed his back to get his attention and rested their foreheads together. “I’m going to get a washcloth and water, d’accord?”

Remus held him tighter.

“Re.” He trailed his finger along the slope of his nose, then tilted his chin up. “I need you to trust me. I’ll be right back for snuggles, but you’re sticky and we’re both dehydrated.”

Rebellion and familiar stubbornness sparked up. “No.”

“Three minutes. You can time me.” God, I hope that’s enough time.

“Stay with me.”

“You were just telling me you were uncomfortable and sticky.”

“Take me with you.”

“My legs are tired.” He combed both hands through Remus’ hair and watched his eyes, still a little red from tears and exertion, flutter slightly closed from the feeling. “Three minutes, and then I promise I’ll be right here. Do you trust me?”

Slowly, Remus nodded, and his hold released.

“Thank you.” Pull it together, Sirius reminded himself as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, using the edge as a crutch for a brief moment. His muscles begged to be left alone on the bed with Remus, but they both needed to get cleaned up before sleeping and Sirius really had to pee. Who knew holding a 180-pound hockey player in place as he shook and writhed would take so much effort?

Sirius. Sirius knew. And it had absolutely been worth it.

He rinsed his face in the sink and ran the damp washcloth over his arms—the scratches didn’t sting, but they were fading to a nice pinkish crosshatch with small lilac bruises where Remus’ fingertips dug in as he finally came, clinging to the forearm that held his back to Sirius’ chest. Without Sirius’ other arm applying pressure to his hips while his hand moved tight over his shaft, Remus would probably have slid right down onto the duvet in a puddle of endorphins.

“Stay awake,” Sirius reminded him as he entered their bedroom once again and settled into his old spot to lean Remus against his ribs so he could drink.

“I’m—” He cleared his throat and took a sip. Remus wasn’t much of a howler or moaner, not like Sirius, but his babbling and breathless sobs of overwhelming pleasure had certainly done a number on his throat. “I’m awake.”

“You sound stronger and look more like you.” Sirius stabilized his chin between his thumb and pointer, carefully wiping Remus’ face clean with the small towel; some of the frazzled edges smoothed out, and soon he just looked tired. Settled. Sated.

Those were all good things in Sirius’ book as he washed away some of the mess along Remus’ thighs once the tear tracks were gone. They would need to shower later, but he didn’t think either of them could stand long enough at the moment, and a bath would quickly turn into a nap. “You’re so good to me,” Remus whispered.

“Because I love you and you deserve good things.” He set his supplies aside and relaxed into the pillows, pulling Remus down with him. “Are you okay with not seeing my face at the end?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to change up sometimes.” His thumb moved in curling patterns over the light, mouth-shaped bruises littering Sirius’ skin. “You’ll tell me if I go too far, right?”

Sirius smiled and turned so they were face-to-face. “That’s my line.”

“You’re always bruised.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I really like it.”

“Kinky motherfucker,” Remus teased, poking his sternum. Sirius didn’t protest, just admired the grounded look on his face and the happy post-orgasm glow that rose high on his cheeks. “You’re staring again.”

“I stare at you all the time. You’re too pretty not to be looked at.”

Remus smiled, slinging a leg over Sirius’ hip and drawing him closer with an arm around his ribs; callused fingers tapped in random rhythms between his shoulder blades, and Sirius let the tension flow from his whole body. This is what people mean when they say ‘warm and fuzzy’, he thought sleepily, sinking into a gentle kiss from plush lips. The drop could be difficult to navigate sometimes, but it was always, always worth it to melt together at the end.

#fanfic #my fic #remus lupin #sirius black #coops #smut #aftercare #sweater weather #lumosinlove

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blue-pastel-cat · 3 years

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Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie)

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home by yamajiroo

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit by bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by inkburn

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8. Blossom of Grace by birdpriestess

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

#xiaobedo #tetsu likes to ramble #genshin impact

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franeridart · 3 years

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Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the “reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it’s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha

#fran answers #oh two of these are Long #.....#long post #in case the readmore doesn't work for whatever reason

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heximagines · 3 years

Text

Jealousy pt. 3 | Bo x GN! Reader x Vincent

Here it is! Part 3! Now to just decide who reader ends up with. Hmmm...

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

Over the few days that followed your date with Bo, the twin had become increasingly touchy with you. It was becoming a common occurrence for him to press kisses to the top of your head when you walked past, rest his hand on your lower back, or pull you against his side on the couch. Gladly you leaned into every little touch, never noticing the pointed looks Bo would shoot Vincent whenever he was around. However you did notice that you were seeing Vincent less and less. You thought it was because he was busy at first but it had been a while since anyone came into town now.

Bo was at the station today and Vincent was still nowhere to be seen, leaving you alone in the house. You’d watched a movie, cleaned the kitchen, and patched some holes in the old walls but the day always crawled along when you were alone. When noon rolled around you decided to pay Vincent a visit. You fixed him something easy for him to eat for lunch before wrapping up the plate. You chose to take the main road through town on your way to the museum as opposed to going through the tunnels. You loved to stroll through town and admire the brothers’ work, especially when the sun was high in the sky making everything look vibrant and cheery. For just a moment you could pretend that you were a normal person living in a normal town. When you arrived on the steps of the museum you took one more look around before slipping inside. From where you stood you could hear Vincent’s music float up from between the floorboards, gentle and airy. Your lips curled up in a small smile and you took your time to weave through the exhibits, stopping to look at some of your favorite pieces and new ones. You guessed Vincent had been busy, while you didn’t notice any new figures there were more paintings and bits of furniture that hadn’t been there the last time. You paused at a portrait you thought was particularly beautiful. It featured a woman veiled in white, not quite like a bride but angelic. You tilted your head and your fingers itched to reach out and touch it but you held back. Finally you were jarred from your thoughts at the sound of footsteps coming up the hidden stairway in the next room. You turned your head to the door and waited for Vincent to appear. When he did he had another canvas cradled gently in his large hands. He started when he noticed you and fumbled with the piece but quickly regained his composure. “Sorry, Vin. Didn’t mean to scare you.” You gave him a shy smile and held up the plate. “I brought you lunch.”

Vincent had set down his newest creation and the two of you were now sitting on a Victorian style fainting couch he had recently fabricated, your knee just barely brushing his. The newest painting he brought up was very similar to the one you’d been admiring earlier and you motioned towards them. “They’re beautiful Vincent. You’re so talented.” You turned to smile at him, but Vincent wasn’t looking at you. His eye was trained firmly on the plate he was holding in his lap. You turned your whole body towards him and placed a hand on Vincent’s knee, making him jerk away. You yanked your hand back before looking up at him, confused. Sure Vincent was skittish at the best of times but he’d been acting so strange lately. He signed a quick, ‘Sorry, I need to get back to work’ before getting up to retreat back down there he’d come from. You frowned and looked at the painting he’d left abandoned where it sat. Something about it felt a bit familiar but you couldn’t quite place it.

That night when you sat at the dinner table across from Bo Vincent was still nowhere to be seen. You sat with your chin in your palm, pushing the food around your plate too lost in thought to eat. Bo’s hand slid across the table and he coaxed your’s from your chin into his own. “Somethin’ bothering ya sugar?” You gave him a half hearted smile and shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think Vincent has been acting weird?” Bo scoffed a bit. “He’s probably just busy. He’ll come around.” Your lips twisted into a frown. “No, I don’t think that’s it... Today I went to bring him lunch and-” “Why?” He cut in, making you pause. “Huh?” Bo set his fork down and now he was frowning too. “Why did ya go and bring him lunch?” Your brows draw together and you shake your head. “I-I don’t know. I just hadn’t seen him in a while. I thought it’d be nice.” Suddenly you were nervous. All the sweetness Bo had shown you was absent now as he pushed away from the table and stood. His chair toppled to the ground as he grabbed his plate and tossed it into the sink, food still on it. “Vincent doesn’t need you to be nice to him. He’s fine.” Slowly you stood and moved across the room to place your hands on Bo’s shoulders, rubbing soothingly. You could see how they relaxed at your touch but the underlying tenseness was still there. “Bo...” He took a deep breath and his fingers, which were gripping the edge of the sink, flexed. You gently pushed on his shoulder, making him turn towards you. “What’s going on in your head?” You combed your hands though Bo’s hair before wrapping your arms around his neck. Instinctively his own hands came to your waist, holding you tightly. “Don’t worry about it okay? And don’t worry none about Vincent. He’s just...” He bobbed his head, trying to find what he wanted to say. “Throwing a damn tantrum.” Your eyebrows shot up. Vincent was never one for outbursts, not even when visitors entered town. He was always calm, calculated. Though you supposed if he were to throw a tantrum as Bo put it this would be the way he’d go about it. “Now why would he be doing that?” He snorted and shook his head. “Because he’s not gettin’ what he wants.” You really hated it when Bo was cryptic, and it happened much more frequently than you’d expect with someone so brash. Finally he kissed your forehead and pulled away. “Just don’t worry okay? He’ll get over it. He’s just gotta.” With that Bo playfully smacked your ass. “How about you go on and relax. I got the dishes.” You weren’t ready to let this go quite yet, but you knew better than to push Bo on a subject he didn’t wanna speak about. So you relented. Besides, you weren’t eager to fish his uneaten food out of the sink anyway.

That night as you laid in bed your thoughts lingered on Vincent. The way he’d jumped away from your touch, like your fingertips scalded him, it made your chest clench uncomfortably. You knew Bo wan’t going to tell you what was up. So you’d just have to find out yourself. Quiet as a mouse you tiptoed out of your room, eyeing Bo’s closed door just across the hall. From outside you could just barely hear his gentle snores, signaling that he was in a deep sleep. You slipped down the stairs and made a beeline for the hidden staircase that would bring you down into the tunnels. When you arrived at the door of Vincent’s workshop you lingered outside, listening to the calming melody of Vivaldi maybe? You weren’t as familiar with classical artists as Vincent. You weren’t sure what you were going to say but you’d already made up your mind. Finally, you knocked softly, so softly you thought he didn’t hear you. You almost turned around and went right back to bed when the door opened an inch. You gave Vincent a shy smile and he opened the door wider. He eyed your face before signing, ‘Y/n, what’s wrong?’ You chuckled and rubbed your cheek. “That obvious huh?” Vincent tilted his head at you before opening the door wider and ushering you into his workspace. Inside it was broiling hot and the molten wax cast an orange glow over everything. Vincent pulled up a comfortable looking chair for you, patting it. You sat down and watched as Vincent moved to lean against his worktable, keeping a physical distance from you. Anxiously you twiddled your thumbs. “Vincent I’ve been noticing that you’re acting... Well you’re just not around. And I’m just a little worried.” You looked up to watch Vincent. His shoulders hunched over and he seemed to want to look anywhere but at you. Now that you were thinking about it Vincent never avoided your gaze. If he wasn’t staring right back into your eyes while you spoke he was always sitting right in your line of sight, like he wanted you to see him. Now he looked like he wished he could disappear completely. “A-And Bo said that I should just, leave you alone and not bother you. And I don’t want to. Bother you that is. So I’m sorry if I am. I’m just... Worried... Like I said.” You wanted to kick yourself. You really should have figured out what you wanted to say and now you were just rambling on like a moron. Finally Vincent uncrossed hsi arms and lifted his hands. ‘What else did Bo say?’ You bit your lip, Vincent new his brother too well. “He, uh, he thinks you’re just... Upset. And he wouldn’t tell me why.” You phrased it as delicately as possible. Vincent nodded at that seeming to understand something that you just weren’t quite getting at yet. Slowly he came to kneel in frint of you and you smiled just a little. ‘I’m not upset with you. You know that right?’ You only gave a small shrug in response. Vincent exhaled through his nose before standing and crossing the room. He came to stop at his drawing desk, gathering up a sketchbook he flipped though the pages thoughtfully before closing it. He seemed to think for a moment before sighing again. Slowly he walked back over to you. He seemed to be dreading what was going to happen and he looked at you like he was trying to memorize every little detail. As if you were going to disappear. Vincent pulled up his own chair and sat down across from you this time. His fingers flexed around the notebook, similar to how Bo’s flexed when he was anxious. Finally he held the book out to you. You took it from him with care and waited until he nodded before you flipped it open to the first page. Your own image stared back up at you and for a moment you were awestruck. The attention to detail was amazing. As you slowly turned through the pages you could feel Vincent tensing. Until finally you found a familiar sketch. It was one of the new paintings. But now you can see the details underneath the veil he layered over them. It was your own face. Finally you closed the book and met Vincent’s eye. Everything clicked together in your head now and your heart ached for Vincent. “You made me look so... Beautiful.” ‘It’s not hard,’ his hands gestured. You smiled softly before leaning in to hug Vincent tightly. He hesitated for only a moment before pulling you in, practically crushing you in his embrace. You knew Vincent didn’t just fear rejection, he expected it. And Even though he hid it under ego and bravado Bo was exactly the same. You knew you needed to work something out soon but for now you just smoothed your hand over Vincent’s back and let him hold you until he was ready to let go.

#vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #slasher imagines #slasher x reader

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Text

Skin

Harry wanted to be able to show Ginny, through his eyes, how beautiful she is, and how all this insecurity with her body after giving birth to James is not necessary.

Since he cannot do this, he tries in other ways.

this fic is part of The Harry and Ginuary Extravanganza :) I'm sorry for any mistake

* all of this was written while I was listening to Mac Miller album The Divine Feminine, if anyone wants to get in the mood :)

read bellow the cut or in AO3 :)

Harry had been away from home for almost a month, which seemed more like a painful and torturous eternity than anything else. He missed Ginny and little James, it was much worse than the whole situation that he, Ron, and Theo got into, camping close to a pack of werewolves, and chasing a killer who seemed almost as good at hiding which even made them doubt their abilities as Aurors.

Harry was tired, with some bruises, hungry, missing his son who had not even turned a year yet and probably had grown a lot, and his wife. Harry wanted more than ever to hug Ginny and feel her against him.

He also really wanted to take a decent shower and lie on a bed that wasn’t a camp mattress, because Harry was no longer so young to be able to sleep in a bed like that.

It was worth it, he told himself when he could finally apparate to his home, in peace that he could be with his family again, Robards is looking to retire, he will end up choosing me . Harry didn't quite believe it, but Ginny repeated it a lot every time he complained about the boss; 'One day you will be the boss and you will not need to work like that.'

It was what he expected.

Since he had been a father, Harry was always trying to escape these suicide missions, but he was not always able, and he just hoped that when he was promoted, he would be able to spend more time at home. He never wanted so much to work with the Auror bureaucracy and leave the field.

He still enjoyed the excitement, the chase, the adrenaline, but he was no longer willing to risk his life so much.

In addition to Ginny, there was now someone else who encouraged him, even more, to return home alive.

When Harry opened the door, the smell of home entered his nostrils, a smell he never really stopped to notice, but after a month away, he managed to recognize it.

The hallway light on the second floor was on, probably for James to wake up. Harry took off his boots, cloak, and most of his clothes, and walked around the house, smiling for the first time in a month, seeing James's toys on the living room floor, and some scattered around the dining room, and a divine smell from the room that looked like a turkey, came from the kitchen. Hoping that Ginny was already asleep, as well as James since it was past one in the morning, Harry stopped for a snack.

He didn't even bother to heat the food, eating as if he hadn't seen food for more than days, devouring the deliciously seasoned turkey leg, and alternating with the remaining farofa and baked potatoes. It was a little rude and disgusting, he knew, but Harry felt his stomach echo with hunger, forcing him to forget the etiquette.

After less than ten minutes, he was fed, tiptoeing up to the second floor, James's bedroom door was open, as usual, and Harry couldn't help wanting to see his son and entered the room, taking be careful not to wake him up, seeing him resting deeply in bed, wearing adorable dinosaur pajamas, which put him on completely and prevented him from being cold at night. He looked bigger, Harry noticed, and with more hair, he wanted to hold his son in his arms, hug him but was content to just kiss his slightly sweaty forehead. Harry checked that the window was locked, closed the curtains tightly, covered his son, and left the room.

A part of him was satisfied, James was safe, well, and tomorrow would probably jump on Harry as soon as he realized his father was back. James always went to their bed in the morning, just asked to sleep with them and slept for a few more hours, but whenever Harry spent a few days outside, the next morning when the little one realized that his father was back, it was as if sleep disappeared.

After a month away from James' warm hugs during the mornings when they slept together, Harry was not complaining.

But he was not yet complete, not when he had not yet seen Ginny.

She was probably asleep, he thought, it was late and the days must have been tiring now that she was back to training, and without him at home to help with James, things should have been going smoothly. But the light in their room was on, which Harry found strange.

Still trying not to make any noise, because maybe she just fell asleep without even realizing it, Harry approached, opening the door a little more and sticking his head into their room, looking around.

Harry had already seen Ginny in many ways, they had a son together, however, he was not prepared for that.

She was standing in front of her dressing table, evaluating herself in front of the mirror on the wall, taking small turns to try to see her back, and then turning and facing the mirror. Ginny did not seem to feel the cold that Harry was feeling, since she wore one of the smallest lingerie he had ever seen, still seeming to assess whether the piece was beautiful or not.

The light blue lace made her look even more beautiful, contrasting with the freckles that spread over her skin and the light tan she was getting now that she was back in training. The bra barely hid her nipples, temptingly drawing her breasts, and not having the same common cut as the others she wore, and instead, this one had a few more buttons and went down to the beginning of her ribs, already in translucent fabric. The lace itself was only on the straps and the front of the breasts, descending in a V to the middle of the other fabric, something that made it look even more beautiful.

Ginny kept her hands in front of her belly, the same way she did a month ago when they were going to have sex, or she ended up undressing next to him, and automatically hid her belly. Harry would always comment that she didn't need to hide from him, but Ginny insisted that she still didn't feel safe with her body.

‘Pregnancy changed me,’ She always said. 'You don't know what it's like to see your body change dramatically in a matter of months... Now I have stretch marks where I never thought I would.'

Harry thought it was silly, Ginny was beautiful anyway, and he was still a fool in love, with or without stretch marks.

The panties also had that translucent fabric with a light blue background, it was one of those that had a high waistband and that he knew Ginny preferred to wear recently, but this one he could still see her belly, and the lace only appeared again from the front, covering only what was necessary, while at the back, it was just a small piece of the other fabric, not making much of a point of hiding anything from it, which made Harry salivate.

His imagination would never live up to the perfection that she was, how beautiful her ass made him a little too obsessed, or how her breasts had also changed after pregnancy, and all of James's breastfeeding.

'Hmmm… maybe?' He heard her murmur to the reflection, again turning around in a way that she could still look at her back, running her hands behind her thighs as if she wanted to lift her ass a little further. What Harry thought was unnecessary.

'I thought it was more than perfect.' He finally manifested himself, leaning on the doorframe and feeling his erection grow and cause that pressure against his pants.

Ginny jumped up and pulled her robe in front of her, startled and looking at him with wide eyes, pink cheeks and looking like she had managed to hold back the scream in time. ‘Harry!’

'Yea, it's me.’ He smiled.

'Harry .' Ginny finally seemed to realize it was him there, after a month, and dropped the robe back, running towards him and throwing herself at him in much the same way as the sunny days of 1996, but this time, he picked her up and kissed her with much more hunger and passion than he did at the age of 16, carefully closing the door behind them and taking her to bed, numb with longing and lust.

It was so good to kiss her again, to get lost in the warmth and softness of her lips, her small, slightly callused hands touching him as if to make sure it was him there, going from hair to shoulders, to cheeks, chest. It was as if she also checked that he was okay, whole, without any damage.

'I missed you so much,' he murmured between her kiss, falling on the bed with Ginny on top of him, his hands roaming everywhere he reached, feeling entirely at peace.

'I thought it would take you longer.' She cried, holding his face in her hands and parting their lips so they could look at each other. The brown eyes that Harry thought about daily were staring at him as if they hadn't seen him in years, shining on the sides as if Ginny tried to hold on to her emotions, struggling to hold herself in front of him.

Harry recognized the effort, but he didn't think it was necessary. It was just the two of them there, Ginny didn't have to hide.

He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the one tear that ran. 'I was so scared,' she whispered, like a secret she had been keeping for days.

'Me too,' Harry admitted, failing to divert his attention from her caramel eyes. 'I just wanted to go back to home and be with you.'

'James missed you, he wasn't so happy and today was the first day he agreed to sleep in his bed.' Ginny smiled and lifted her shoulders, her cheeks turning slightly pink. 'Maybe he knew that Daddy would be back.'

'I'm glad he predicted that I would come back,' Harry let his eyes roam over her body, and now more closely he was able to see how the bra fabric barely made an effort to cover her skin. It was too much of a temptation to bear, and Harry barely contained himself before touching them, feeling heaviness in his hands and the heat radiating through the lace, making his stomach drop and his mouth water. Harry had missed it so much.

'You liked it? I went out with the girls after a workout, and Genevieve made me buy it, but I still don't know if it looked good.' Ginny said, her voice a little shaky as if she were that 11-year-old girl who couldn't look at him without blushing, which made him look up from those breasts he was in love with, and look at her. Ginny was really blushing, the red that covered her cheeks was also running down her neck and bust. ‘The bra doesn’t have much support and I don’t know if it looked so beautiful, I mean, it’s a beautiful piece, but I don’t think it looked beautiful on me .’

'Ginny,' Harry interrupted, holding her chin, forcing her to look at him, the other hand coming down her side and holding her in place, already sensing that she was trying to extricate herself from him. ‘You look hot,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling like a teenager, about to come in my pants.’

She laughed, that laugh he loved to hear. 'I would be really upset if even after all this time it was still happening.'

'I have learned to hold on,' He smiled, still caressing her cheek, smiling lovingly at Ginny. 'You and beautiful. In all moments.'

'Even when I was all sweaty, giving birth to James?' Ginny asked, laughing sheepishly as she laced her fingers through his, her auburn hair falling like lava on either side of her face.

'Of course.' Harry didn't take his eyes off hers, wanting her to understand that he was being more than real there. He wanted her to be seen through his eyes, and then she would understand how beautiful she is. 'I think I came to love you even more, if that is possible, that day.'

'Awn Harry, don't be so dramatic, you spend only a month away and when you come back you are declaring yourself as a passionate poet.' She laughed, but he did not fail to notice how Ginny's cheeks got even more flushed and she turned her attention to the wall behind the headboard, as if she tried not to let him realize that it affected her.

'I really missed you, that's why.' Harry shrugged, caressing her cheek and bringing her amber eyes back down to his, laying her head against his hand. 'I hate to be away from you for a long time... my romantic mind comes up and I have a lot of time to think about how to declare myself to you.'

'I hate it too when you stay away,' Ginny smiled, allowing him to see her without all those walls she put up for protection.

'Did something happen while I was gone?' He stared at her, noticing how her shoulders tensed and then relaxed when Ginny sighed and lay on his chest, hugging him as she could, as she usually liked to do during the cold nights.

'Nothing too urgent...'

'Ginny…' Harry whispered, running his hands down her back, feeling the skin prickle.

'Rita made a very pertinent comment about me.' Harry felt her tense under his arms again, and kept silent waiting for Ginny to continue talking. Somehow they got a picture of me training only in a crop top, and apparently I should wear t-shirts like the other girls... something to do with my belly and stretch marks.. ' She sighed.

Harry wanted to go to the Prophet and shout some truths that had been stuck for years, in Rita's face. But he just preferred to tighten his grip around Ginny, and kiss the top of her head.

'You look beautiful in any outfit.' He said, trying to be as clear as possible. 'Rita and everyone else are just assholes who are too self-centered to look at their navel for a minute... You are the hottest woman, Ginny, and I don't say that just because we are married.'

'My body has changed a lot in the last year.' She lifted her face, resting her chin on his chest and looking at him, her brown eyes flashed. 'I don't think I'll ever have that body again and-'

'-And you are still beautiful.' The two faced each other. 'You gave birth to a child, Gin, this is incredible. Your body being able to do that is incredible. I will never get tired of saying that. ’Harry smiled. 'I wanted you to see yourself through my eyes, and see how beautiful you are, even with all those things that you insist on saying are defects and that you hate them.'

'Don't make me cry,' She sat on his lap again, fanning her eyes and looking up at the ceiling, her cheeks flushed and a lovely smile on her face, Harry couldn't help but laugh too, feeling incredibly lighter than hours ago, as if now all that tension had been reduced to dust and there was only peace left in his chest.

'About this lingerie... do you have any plans, or are you just experimenting...?' He went back to browsing Ginny's sculptural body, almost drooling over how her breasts looked in that piece, and the transparency of her panties, which ended up exactly where it started getting more interesting. Harry groaned when she moved and stood on top of his cock, closing his eyes with the sensation of the gods it caused.

'I would surprise you when you came back, I thought it would take another week, then I would buy some candles, and cut my hair... But you ruined my plans.' Ginny smiled, biting her bottom lip as if she knew it was driving him crazy. ‘I believe you want to take a shower?’

'I might want some company,' Harry said, holding Ginny firmly in his lap, getting up from the bed and listening to her scream in fright as he walked to the bathroom in their suite, no longer feeling the fatigue from before. 'You know how needy I am after returning from missions.’

'It's a valid request.' Ginny hugged his neck, hands clinging to his hair, as if he were the life jacket that prevented her from sinking. He felt that way about her too. 'I missed having someone in the bath with me… Someone who doesn't want to mess up the bathroom with water and foam.' Harry laughed, placing her sitting on the white marble countertop, watching her body shiver as she made contact with the cold stone, waving with the wand for the hot water to start filling the bathtub.

'I might want to make a bit of a mess,' he said, approaching and feeling her warm breath against his face, before Harry narrowed the distance and kissed her, hungry but still keeping control, leaving his hands on her thighs, keeping them far enough away for him to stay in the middle.

'I like this mess,' Ginny whispered, her eyes closed and her forehead against his, breathing hard, the sound of water being the only one to fill the room. 'I am happy that you came back. I missed you a lot.’

Harry nodded, closing his eyes to make sure it wasn't just a dream, opening them again then just to see Ginny there. 'I felt it too. I am miserable without you.’

[...]

Harry woke up much later with small hands pulling the blanket off them, and the unfortunate murmurs of a child who tried his best to climb up on the bed. He sighed, feeling happy to get back to that routine, but he didn't move, wanting James to find out for himself that Harry had come back. It was a good time.

One more sigh from a boy who seemed very irritated by his young age, and then he finally succeeded, almost removing all the cover from Ginny, crawling up a little sleepily, still holding that light yellow cloth he always carried, and scratching his eyes.

The sun hadn't even risen, leaving the room in that gloom of the few hours before finally dawn, but Harry could see when James opened his brown eyes and threw himself on top of him.

‘Daddy!’ James shouted, hugging his father as he managed, cold hands making the man shiver.

'Hi my love,' Harry murmured, happy, tired, and a little too sentimental, feeling his eyes prickle. 'Speak low, it is still very early and mummy is sleeping.' He put James under the covers, stroking his son's slightly sweaty head, kissing the boy's forehead. 'We are going to sleep some more, okay? The sun hasn't even appeared yet.’

'Daddy…' James murmured, and Harry waited to see what meaningless phrase his son would try to murmur now, but the boy just kept his icy hands touching his father's face, as if to make sure he was really there.

He could not wait to be able to do fewer and fewer missions that required him to stay away from home for a long time.

'Sleep honey, daddy is here,' Harry assured him, snuggling the boy into his embrace, feeling finally complete, watching Ginny turn towards them, sleeping soundly, and then James, who was preparing for it, little hands clutched the shirt that Harry was wearing, as if it were his cloth.

Harry felt like the happiest man in the world.

#hinny #harry x ginny #Harry and Ginuary #fluff moment #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #James Sirius Potter

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yolo1650 · 3 years

Text

Animal Crossing One Shot- Ten Star Rating (BobxReader)

Summary: Getting that perfect island turns out to be a lot harder than it looks.

Word Count: 1498

Warnings: No warnings here, it’s basically rated G, just two cute people, being cute together

——————————————————————————

Feeling nothing but a heavy sense of defeat, you closed the doors of the Resident Service building behind you. With the sun still high in the sky, there was still many hours of daylight left, precious hours that could be spend planting, refurnishing, terra-forming.

But all you could feel was the aching in your legs, clearly overworked by all the running around you did this morning. They couldn’t help but buckle beneath you. Giving in, you sat down at the center of the plaza, face in your palms, as you remembered Isabelle's advice.

"Let's get more greenery on this island by planting fruit and saplings. When it comes to tree varieties, we should really branch out!"

Your jaw clenched. While Isabelle's corny joke came from a kind-hearted place, it did nothing to cheer you up from your predicament.

Last time it was too many trees, and too little flowers. Now that I've spent the whole morning planting more flowers, you're telling me there's not enough trees?

At this rate, you many never get your island to a five star rating.

Then, you heard someone yelling, their voice getting louder as they got closer to you.

"Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyy!"

You felt Bob's shadow cast over you, giving you momentary relief from the afternoon sun.

"Hey Bob."

His shadow moved, and with it, his footsteps as its pattering sounds circled around you. Even with your eyes covered, you could still vividly see Bob's wide, carefree smile, and his arms outstretched like an airplane.

"The island looks great today! On my way here I stopped like, five times to smell all of the pretty flowers! Or was it more like three times? I kind of stopped counting after two, pthhpth."

Taking your face out of your hands, you leaned your cheek against one of your palms and did nothing to mask your exhaustion and disappointment.

"Still not good enough to get a good island rating though."

Bob stilled. Taking quick glances between you and the Resident Service building, he began to understand.

"Oh."

After taking a seat next to you, you look over to his uncharacteristically somber face.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Great now you messed up his groove. One of the happiest, most carefree villager is sulking because of you. Maybe it was better if you just got up and left, you should have never left your house in the first place.

But Bob beat you to it. Standing up with what seems to be renewed energy, he ran back to his house. You didn't have to wait long before hearing your name being shouted in the distance, its volume gradually increasing. When Bob came back his typical ear-to-ear smile was as well. He was also holding onto a medium sized canvas. With outstretched arms, he presented it exclaiming,

"Here! I gotta lil' something for ya!"

After getting up and dusting off your pants, you took the unexpected gift from his hands. Your eyebrows were raised high in astonishment. Pleased at your reaction, Bob shyly looked away while rubbing the back of his neck.

"But it's probably nothing compared to what you've done for the island so far."

As you examined the painting you weren't sure how to feel about it at first. Anyone back at your hometown would recognize immediately that this gift was clearly not your style. While you preferred romantic style oil paintings, the piece before you had to be best described as the work of a child. Abstract and sloppy, no distinct line art, and distinct brush strokes. That last part was the most peculiar to you. Did he use cotton balls to paint this?

You took a step back and looked at the piece again as a whole. Once you did, you felt a smile creep up on your face. This painting was clearly made with you in mind, as not only were you the subject, but you were surrounded by all of the things you loved on this island. The foreground was adorned with your favorite flowers, the background was the island's serene coast, and you were wearing your favorite outfit.

The colors were the most impressive, in your opinion. They were so spot on that just looking at it alone made you feel like you were right there, hearing the crashing waves. He even got your eye color at just the right shade, and remembered to add your dimples to your smile.

You found it difficult to contain your excitement.

"Wow! Bob, this is amazing! And you painted it? I didn't know you liked to paint!"

"Hmmm? Oh yeah, I like to do all sorts of drawing." Lost in thought, he started leaning back and forth between the balls of his feet and his heels. "But I especially looooooove finger painting! It's like ya got super powers 'cause everything you touch changes color!"

You chuckled. Paw prints, that explained the strange brush strokes.

"How'd you know my favorite spot on the island was the beach?" You asked.

Bob simply shrugged as he replied, "You're just there so often, I sorta figured it was like, your natural habitat or something, pthhpth."

"What about my clothes?"

He looked away briefly before clearing his throat to answer. "I, uh, always thought you looked the prettiest when you wore those." He couldn't help but blush a little. "Just 'cause you always smiled more when you wore those."

You then felt your own face heat up.

"A-and what about the flowers? How'd you know these were my favorite?"

"Oh, those? You were always buying those from Lief every time he comes over." His eyes glanced up in thought as he continued.

"At first I was thinking what made these flowers so special? You already had so many different flowers in your own garden. So then I bought a pot of my own, and boy do they smell deeelicious! They reminded me so much of you so of course I had to put it here, pthhpth!"

You tried to give a polite smile to match Bob's beaming face. But you weren't too sure how to take that compliment, if it even was one. Was he saying you were like a snack? Does he snack on flowers?

You decided not to dwell on it too much.

Now when you looked back at the painting, it was as if it completely transformed before your eyes during the short length of your conversation with Bob. What was once sloppy, thick brush strokes were now intentional, and authentic. What was once meaningless shapes of abstraction have now turned into a thoughtful presentation of who you were in the mind of Bob.

It was all so touching, you might have started tearing up a little.

You tightly wrapped your arms around Bob.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this right now."

He eagerly hugged you back.

"Like I said, it's nothing." His lips curled into a bashful smile.

Releasing each other from your embrace, you were surprised to see that somber expression return to his face. His brows furrowed in frustration.

"I don't know who's judging these islands, but if I were them, I'd give you a ten star rating just because you worked so hard on it!"

You didn't have the heart to tell him that island ratings only went up to five.

Bob continued on. Pride and determination lighting his eyes as he placed his paws on his hips.

"I might even throw in a prize, like a day off, or a life-time supply of brownies!" A nervous chuckle bubbled out of him as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, actually, that last part might be more of a prize for me than for you."

Now that he mentions it, you really do deserve a day-off, heck, maybe even a week-off. You put so much work into this island, it was only natural that you needed a break to regain your strength. Then, you'll be sure to get that five star rating!

You grabbed Bob's paw and headed towards the direction to your house.

"It's been a while since we hanged out, huh? Well then let's go to my place for lunch," you said.

"Really?!" Now it was Bob's turn to look surprised. Free food always got him excited.

"Yeah!" You smiled. "Think of it as thanks for the painting."

"Sounds great!" Bob had already skipped on ahead of you, his face radiant. "Race ya!"

"Wait, Bob! My legs are still killing me from this morning, can you-"

Too late. With arms outstretched, Bob zig-zagged his way towards your house, already leagues ahead of you. For a guy who was always hungry, he sure did have boundless amounts of energy.

You shook your head to yourself and smiled. Taking one last look at your painting before trudging along, you were already thinking of how to best frame it. You loved how brilliant it looked in the natural light. A nice spot by the window would be perfect.

——————————————————————————

This was requested by @teagibs I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long :’-)

Please bear in mind that I’m still in school, so if anyone else has made a request, or would like to request something, it might be a while. I will also be doing requests in the order they come in.

On another note, this was a lot of fun! Bob is one of my favorites, so I hope I did him justice. I currently have another one shot in the works (not a request), and ya’ll better brace yourself, cause it’s gonna be a dooozy...

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

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jamiemackenziefraser · 3 years

Text

All That Was Fair

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

Summary: Claire and Jamie begin to settle in with each other, and Claire continues to experience human oddities.

Read on AO3

Read chp 19 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

***

If Jamie thought Claire had been touchy before, nothing compared to the amount of contact they had now that they were together. Her hands— or lips— were all over him at the most unexpected moments (and the expected moments as well, to be fair). Not that Jamie was complaining. Though every bit of contact still brought a blush to his cheeks and made his heart race so fast it could have torn out of his chest, he never wanted her to stop.

It had been two days since the fateful trip to Craigh na Dun and the following declarations of love. Two days since she’d decided to stay with him— bloody fool that he was. Two days of bliss with the love of his life.

He’d left her that morning still asleep in their (their!) room. Her limbs had been strewn all over the place, making her look like a starfish sprawled on the bed. After disentangling himself from underneath her wee but aggressive arm, he’d placed a kiss to her temple, smiling with contentment that she was his to wake up to and kiss every morning.

Standing then in front of the stove, flipping his pancakes absently, he thanked God for the blessing of her. He breathed in a long sigh and tried to fully appreciate the perfection of his life.

The quiet was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist, making him jump.

“Did you forget about me?” A silky voice asked, lips brushing the back of his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Claire must have been standing on her tiptoes to reach him.

He placed his own hands over top of hers, hugging her arms, and swayed slightly back and forth to take her with him where she was pressed against his back. Affection welled up inside him, so strong that he was nearly overcome.

“I couldna forget ye, mo chridhe. I only didna want tae wake ye up. Ye looked sae bonny and peaceful.”

“You should have. I don’t like being in the… what is it called again?—”

“Bed,” Jamie answered automatically.

“Bed. I don’t like being in bed without you. Besides, I quite like how you wake me.”

A blush rose in Jamie’s cheeks as he thought about how he’d kissed her awake the past two mornings. He loved seeing her sleepy eyes open and her smile as she met the day with the sight of him. How her lips would grow more eager as she regained consciousness…

“I’m verra sorry for leavin’ ye,” he apologized, turning around in her arms so he could loop his own around her waist, “whatever can I do tae make it up tae ye?”

Claire hummed, looking exaggeratedly thoughtful, and then tapped a finger on her cheek expectantly.

Happy to oblige, Jamie leaned down and placed a kiss at the indicated spot. Claire smiled in response, looking like a cat that got the cream. She then tapped the other cheek, and Jamie was quick to give it the same treatment, this time letting his lips linger for a long moment. Her smile widening, she pointed to her forehead.

“Awfully demanding, are ye no’?” Jamie accused warmly before pressing an obedient kiss there.

Claire just murmured an assent— apparently completely willing to own it— before her wee finger was placed over her lips.

It took Jamie only the length of a heartbeat to cover her mouth with his own, uncaring of trivial things like morning breath or whether or not Claire would be able to taste the residual pancake batter on his lips. If she could, she didn’t mind, because she spent the next minute withdrawing half a centimeter only to kiss him again, her tongue less than timid as she indulged herself. He found it unreasonably enjoyable, and his hand wandered up to cup the back of her head to keep her mouth on his.

Her appreciative murmur vibrated his lips, and that only served to encourage him all the more.

But he was interrupted from his task by Claire drawing back enough to gasp, “do you smell that?”

Tearing his eyes away from her puffy lips, he turned around toward the stove to see that his pancakes— really now more black lumps— had smoke rising from them in active billows.

“Christ!” he swore, at the same time as the smoke detector began to go off.

At the shrill noise, Claire let out a startled cry and smacked her hands over her ears. Jamie didn't have time to reassure her as he lunged toward the burning pancakes and tore them off the heat. He juggled them with one hand and turned on the fan with the other before shutting off the stove. With everything going wrong, of course it was that very moment when the handle of his old pan decided to snap, and the bowl of the pan (smoking pancakes included), started to fall. On instinct, Jamie grabbed for it with his free hand. Pain shot through him on contact, and he hissed as he jerked his hand away, allowing the damn thing to tumble to the ground. He jumped out of the way, smashing into Claire, who still was holding her hands over her ears and looking terrified.

Exclaiming some rather colorful words, Jamie reached out his not burnt hand to steady Claire.

“Sorry, lass. It’s okay, dinna fash,” he said with a raised voice over the obnoxious beeping of the fire alarm directly over their head.

“What’s that sound?” Claire yelled out, looked very distressed with her wide eyes and hunched shoulders.

“It’ll stop in a second,” he shouted.

Sure enough, as the smoking mess on the floor subsided, the smoke detector went quiet. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

Claire, the poor thing, looked nearly ready to cry.

“It was jes’ the smoke alarm, mo nighean donn,” he tried to reassure, “the sound makes sure that I ken there’s a fire so I can put it out.”

“I did not like that,” she said with a shake of her head, shuddering.

“I’m sorry, a leannan, come here.”

Drawing her close, Jamie gave his faerie a cuddle. She melted into him, and the tension flowed from her muscles as soon as he enveloped her. It made Jamie swell with a certain satisfaction to comfort her over something so trivial, as if he were some knight in shining armor who’d rescued the fair maiden from the beastly alarm— only he’d actually been the one to cause it in the first place and he hadn’t done anything but make a mess while trying to solve it.

As if suddenly remembering, or perhaps she could sense the slight sting in his fingers, Claire drew back and exclaimed, “give me your hand!”

Smiling but a bit nervous, Jamie held out his hand for her. He watched with anticipation as the soft golden light emanated from her hands as they formed a cup around his. This time, instead of watching the light, he turned his head up to look at Claire’s face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, lines etched in her face as she focused all her energy. She blinked hard once, shook her head, and went back to staring down at their joined hands. Jamie felt the tingling warmth flow through him, making his hand buzz with energy. The pain began to subside, and the determined expression on her bonny features eased. After half a second more, the light faded from her palms. She didn’t let go, but stroked his now perfect fingers between her hands.

To add the finishing touch, she brought his hand to her lips and began to kiss each finger one by one. Her lips were soft; her kisses more healing than even her energy.

“Ye make a good nurse,” Jamie said in a gravely tone, enraptured by her gentle touches.

“Hmmm?” she murmured, still focused on her task. Finishing with his pinky, she curled his fingers down and pressed one last feather-light kiss to his knuckles.

“Ye’re a fine healer, Sassenach,” Jamie amended. He brought his newly healed finger tips up under her chin and tilted her face up toward him. “And I’m verra grateful ye’re mine.”

He leaned in to give her a proper kiss. She didn’t respond as enthusiastically as usual, but her lips molded to his and in a passive sort of way. He chalked it up to her nerves over the alarm and concern over his injury, but it still disturbed him because she had never responded in this way.

Following his resolution to communicate better, he pulled back and asked while cupping her face with a tender hand, “are ye alright, mo chridhe?”

The smile she mustered seemed forced, which didn’t do much to ease his worries. “I’m fine,” she said, “just felt strange for a second, it’s nothing.”

He kept studying her for another long second, but she remained firm in her statement without adding anything else. With a dip of his shoulders, he decided to let it go.

“I’m sorry about that, my sweet one,” he said with a self-deprecating shake of his head, “I didna mean for all this chaos this morning.”

“It’s not your fault, Jamie,” she countered. The newly growing smile seemed much more genuine again as she added, “I probably shouldn’t have distracted you while you were making…”

“Pancakes,” Jamie filled in.

“Pancakes,” she echoed, looking thoughtful.

She was trying to learn words as much as she could, and Jamie found that he quite liked his role as tutor. At least he quite liked rewarding her for her learning of new vocabulary.

“And the word for the first meal of the day, do ye recall?” he quizzed.

Looking up at him with a triumphant expression, she exclaimed, “breakfast.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed approvingly, “that’s verra good.”

He leaned down and gave her a soft, gentle peck on the lips, and as he drew back, he found she was smiling.

“You’re a very good teacher, you know,” she said, “maybe soon I’ll start teaching you another language and see if you’re as good of a student. Which one would you prefer?”

Jamie laughed, “maybe we take it one step at a time. I can barely keep up wi’ things as it is. Maybe we start wi’ fair folk culture and go on from there.”

“Deal,” she agreed.

“Anyway,” he said, marveling a little at her ability to get him sidetracked, “it seems my breakfast has been ruined. Perhaps ye’ll give me a wee moment tae grab somethin’ else?”

“Hmmm,” Claire looked gravely ponderous as she considered his request, “I suppose I’ll allow it just this once.”

Jamie rolled his eyes with a smile that betrayed how happy moments like these made him. He took a step away from her, already mourning the loss, and headed over to the pantry.

As he stood debating between the merits of cereal or a granola bar (both required no cooking, thank you very much), hands suddenly snaked their way under his shirt. He stiffened in surprise at first, and then relaxed as the hands started to stroke up and down the length of his back.

He shot a glance over his shoulder to see Claire behind him looking innocently up at him. He raised a brow.

“What are ye doin’, lass?” he asked.

She gave a little shrug but did not remove her hands. “Touching you.”

There’s his faerie.

“Is that no’ what got us in trouble in the first place?”

She gave a little hum that said I can’t argue with that, but then countered, “I don’t think I care.”

Forgetting all about breakfast, Jamie whirled around. He grabbed the backs of her legs and hoisted her up into his arms. She let out a squeal but quickly got with the program, wrapping her legs around Jamie’s middle and her arms around his neck.

As he held her tightly against him, their fronts smashed together, he turned his face to catch her mouth and kiss her fervently. Those perfect lips against his seemed almost victorious as she pressed them to his just as passionately. A hum of satisfaction rose from her, making Jamie nearly drop her with how watery it made his legs.

After a long moment of enjoying her mouth against his, he finally drew back.

“I dinna ken how every time I kiss ye it feels like the first time,” he breathed.

“And I don’t understand how the first time I kissed you it felt like the hundredth time,” she agreed.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, smiling so hard his face felt like it would split and tightening his grip on her thighs, “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you, James Fraser,” she replied, her gaze soft with adoration.

Jamie went to put her down then, releasing his grip on her legs and expecting her weight to drop off of him. Only instead of her legs unwrapping from his waist and her hopping down, she clung to him stubbornly.

As he brought his hands far out to the each side to marvel at the barnacle that seemed to be glued to him, Claire tightened her hold.

“A leannan,” he chuckled, “are ye no’ getting down, then?”

“Don’t think so,” she said from where her face was pressed into his neck.

He let out a very Scottish noise from deep in his throat. With one hand, he held her against him just to keep her steady, and with the other, he turned back to the pantry and began rooting through the items.

He withdrew victorious with a granola bar from the package, and he held it up behind him to the wee faerie.

“Care tae help me wi’ this seein’ as I only have one hand at the moment?”

“Of course, darling,” she obliged.

One of her hands reached out to grab it. Still keeping both arms around his neck, she somehow managed to tear open the package (much like a child would— she still hadn’t gotten that human task down) and then handed it back to him.

It was beginning to get real to Jamie just how little personal space he would ever have again.

And he loved it.

“Thank ye, wee one,” he said before taking a bite. Curious fingers began to thread into his hair as he did, making it extremely hard to concentrate on the simple task of breakfast. Fingertips pressed delightfully into the nape of his neck and tangled into the soft curls there.

His throat felt tight as she caressed him, making it hard for him to swallow. It wasn’t his fault that her every brazen touch turned him into a besotted sap…

“Are ye going tae go through my whole mornin’ routine wi’ me?” he asked, shoving the last of the granola bar into his mouth, still rooted in the same spot by the pantry.

Christ, this lass made it impossible for him to eat a meal slowly and in peace. Impatient thing.

The fingers paused their exploration. “Most certainly.”

“Well, we might as well have some fun wi’ it then. I ken ye dinna need it because ye dinna eat, but would ye care tae learn how tae brush yer teeth?”

She drew back so she could look at him with eyes alight with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“Ye’ll see.”

Upstairs in the bathroom, Jamie somehow managed to detach his clingy faerie. She let go reluctantly, dangling her feet down and allowing Jamie to deposit her onto the ground. Once he was free, he stooped down to find a new toothbrush from the cabinet. Finding one from the dentist a few months ago, he let out an aha and held it triumphantly up to Claire.

“And you use that on your teeth?” she asked warily.

“Aye. It’s called a toothbrush. Watch.”

Demonstrating with his own toothbrush, Jamie wet it before applying toothpaste and sticking it in his mouth. In what was likely a comical expression, he bared his teeth and exaggeratedly brushed the bristles over it.

Claire was giving him a look of distaste and near horror that made his wame twitch with hilarity.

He switched his brushing to go further back into his mouth, making her eyes go even wider.

“Are you sure this is nothing like eating?” she asked, apparently still a bit traumatized from the incident with the spaghetti that first night.

“No,” Jamie laughed through the toothpaste in his mouth, “it jes’ cleans yer teeth after ye’ve eaten. Ye dinna actually swallow the toothbrush.”

He rinsed and spit before straightening up to face a still dubious Claire.

“Ready tae try, lass?”

She wrinkled her nose a little but gave a nod.

Jamie prepared her toothbrush for her. As he approached her, she eyed him with a wide eyed look of apprehension mixed with curious excitement. She opened her mouth tentatively like a nervous child at the dentist.

He cupped his free hand around the back of her head, his thumb making soothing circles. Then, slowly, so as not to startle her, he placed the bristles onto her teeth.

It was his expectation that she’d jerk away in disgust the moment it touched her, but she stayed still. He gently moved the bristles back and forth, very lightly over her front teeth, and she blinked rapidly and sucked a sharp breath in through her nose.

“Alright, lass?” he asked with a smile as she froze underneath his hand.

She gave a nod, and he continued, rubbing the toothbrush just over the front of her teeth. He felt it as she relaxed, the buzzing tension easing as she came to the realization that this was, in fact, not torture— nor anything like eating.

She made a “huh” sound from deep in her throat, and Jamie withdrew the toothbrush so she could speak.

“It feels… kind of nice,” she said slowly.

“Aye. I ken ye dinna really need tae clean yer teeth since ye dinna eat to dirty them in the first place, but…” he eyed her with a gleam in his eye and a smirk, “if ye’re gonna be puttin’ that mouth on me all day long, ye might as well taste minty fresh.”

To his great enjoyment, Claire flushed, looking at the same time like she felt embarrassed and also wanted to kiss him some more.

“Here, lass,” he said, “wash yer mouth out.”

He handed her a cup of water, and she mimicked what he had done earlier and rinsed.

Once she was done, she straightened up and looked at him expectantly, as if there was some last step to be completed.

“Now,” Jamie said, the corners of his mouth pulling up, “I’ll find out how ye taste, aye?”

***

#noaprilfools #really it’s just a chapter #I had to check like 3 times that it really was chapter 19 #wow #all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction

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onwesterlywinds · 3 years

Text

PROMPT #6: Avatar

Dedicated to @cogflox for reasons.

Set roughly ten years in the future of Hydaelyn’s present day.

"Hmmm," Edge mused. "A story, huh?"

He had Tomaj on his lap, with Sylvia on Stella's nearby; they all were bundled up in knitted blankets around the hearth while Ashe watched them from the far end of the living room, elbows-deep in scrubbing the week's laundry. Though she longed to join the rest of her family, this task was the last of the chores that needed doing before bed - and it was the least she could do to give Edge some respite, since he had cooked dinner and cleaned up more nights in a row than she could remember.

"What about the story of the skeleton war?" said Tomaj, ever the morbid one.

Edge chuckled but shook his head. "Nah, that's your ma's. I'll leave it for her to tell."

"Not because it scares the living daylights out of you still?" Ashe quipped, to the girls' laughter.

He whirled around toward the corner with the washing bin in mock affront. "Oh, hush, you!" To the kids- "Anyway, how about a story from Doma?"

Tomaj wrinkled his nose. "Not the story about Tamamo Gozen again. We hear it every time."

"But I like that one!" Sylvia whined.

"I know you do, love," said Edge, in his most diplomatic tone. "He's right, though, I do tell it an awful lot. Maybe... the story of the Four Lords? I don't believe I've shared that one in a long time."

Stella stared off in thought, looking for the moment rather like the wide-eyed girl from ten years ago with no reprieve from her Echo; then a warm smile came over her, and the memory faded in Ashe's mind. "Right," she whispered. "I do remember this one."

Ashe stilled her movements against the washboard to tuck back a wisp of her hair with sudsy hands. "Just tell it normally, please - the way Hien does."

As Edge launched into his story, he threw out his arms in elaborate ninjutsu stances from where he sat.

"North. West. South. East. Long ago, the four nations of Othard lived together in harmony. Then everything changed when the mad auspice Koryu attacked!"

Stella bit back a laugh at whatever disapproval was surely brewing on Ashe's face, but it was already much too late: Edge was in full swing and their two youngest were hooked, their eyes wide and their mouths agape.

"Only Tenzen, the greatest samurai of the age, could stop him. But when Othard needed him most... he vanished."

"That's not how the story goes and you know iiit," Ashe sang under her breath.

"Excuse me Grand Steward, Madam Representative, Warden of the Undercity - I don't believe you're the one telling the story." He cleared his throat for dramatic effect and barreled on. "But Doma did not lose hope. Doma believed that somehow, Tenzen would return to save the world."

"How?" Tomaj chimed in. "How could he save the world if he's vanished?"

Ashe glanced up to see Edge gesturing toward their son on his lap, as if to accuse her of having awoken a monster with her own interruptions. She offered him a shrug in response.

"It's because his spirit lived on within a new hero," Edge explained. "And one day, that hero set out to calm the four auspices of each of Othard's four lands..."

To her husband's credit, the rest of the tale proceeded mostly without undue embellishment - excepting the parts about the Firebird Suzaku's love of Tenzen, doubtless in an effort to appease the budding romantic that was Sylvia. Tomaj ceased his pestering and was mostly asleep by the time the story concluded, and Ashe finished the laundry in time for her to lift his droopy body from Edge's knee and carry him to his bed.

"What happened after?!" Sylvia was busy demanding of her father upon her return. "Was the hero okay? Where did Suzaku go?"

"Tell you what," said Edge. He let her hold onto that thought for a moment while he stood and stretched, wincing for only a moment before bending down to give her a kiss directly on the top of her head of purple curls. "Tomorrow, if you still can't think of an ending, we can write a letter to Lord Hien and ask him what he thinks."

Sylvia gasped. "You really mean it?"

"Of course. We can even use your ma's fanciest stationery."

"And my fountain pen," Ashe added. "If you promise to be very careful, and not leave a mess."

"I promise!" she said at once.

"Then that's that. Now go get into bed."

Sylvia sprinted into her room without another word, let alone a goodnight kiss for Ashe, leaving the two of them alone with Stella.

"Still meeting Sihtric?” she asked. “It's half past nine; you're more than welcome to stay here."

She shook her head with a smile. "I owe Sihtric Selsson too many favors to let him think I'm standing him up." Family or no, some things from their time as Heart-Seers had never changed. It warmed Ashe's heart more than she cared to admit. Stella hugged them both at once, gave them each a kiss on the cheek, and hurried out the door with a "Love you, good night."

Edge was smiling at her before the door fully closed, and Ashe wove her way into his arms. "Your story was wonderful, by the way."

"You do have a point, though," he said, drawing her ever closer and swaying with her in time to some rhythm known only to him. "Probably should get used to telling them the real versions of Doman folktales. Before my versions are all they know."

"Before they embarrass you in front of Hien, you mean?"

"Yeah, that."

She giggled and buried her face into his neck, and soon enough they were both laughing too hard for a proper kiss.

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite2021 #Ashelia Riot #Edge Marbrand #Stella

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kiwi-bitchez · 4 years

Text

You Can Bet On It

Summary: Your roommate drags you out to the club where she beets a tall, blonde, handsome brit. You hand back at the bar and happen to meet his roommate.

Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: smutttt, a little rough, spanking and light choking, use of vibrator, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 8k (got a little carried away with this one...)

Oh god, what is that horrible squeaking sound?

You are ripped from your trance to realize that the irritating noise was coming from you. Your bad habit of scratching off beer labels when you are nervous was starting to show, as your nail had worn completely through the thin paper, and had been obnoxiously rubbing into the glass.

You had zoned out, letting your eyes land on the ground and drift out of focus, clearing your head for a moment or five. Bars weren’t your favorite place. Scratch that, this kind of bar wasn’t your favorite place. Watered down liquor, slurred speech, thumping music, and people who were drunk enough not to care that they were practically having sex in public.

One of those people being your roommate Madison. You loved her, but god you couldn’t be more different. She is wild, sparkly, loud, fun. You’re…not. Your squeaking had pulled your focus back up to the dancefloor of the club where she was swaying her body back and forth with some tall blonde stranger.

You had to give it to her, she had a way with men at bars. Barely even setting her stuff down before someone buys her a drink, uses a line, offers to dance. This was Madison’s cup of tea, or tequila rather. She loves getting dressed up and going out to the busiest clubs, finding some handsome stranger to whisk her away for a night.

You didn’t judge her, not at all. You actually found yourself jealous of her, wishing you had that kind of confidence. She had tried to help you on many occasions, being your self-proclaimed wing-woman and trying to help you pick up guys at bars, but you could never quite get the hang of the awkward small talk and rushed physical intimacy.

You did, on occasions like this, let her drag you out with her. It kept her off your back about being “antisocial” and a “hermit,” and you liked keeping an eye out for her, making sure no one was trying to take advantage. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, Madison would snap if anyone tried to pull anything, but a more sober pair of eyes never hurts.

You had managed to grab a seat at the bar, facing outward to observe the bustling crowd. People-watching could sometimes prove to be an interesting way to pass the time, and truthfully you’d rather observe than interact most of the time. A few people had started conversations with you at the bar, and you weren’t a bitch or anything, you just clearly gave off the vibe that you weren’t interested in being bought some fruity cocktail and wooed onto the dancefloor.

Madison had her back pressed against the guy she was dancing with, his hands on her hips. The song was ending, and she made eye contact with you, nodding her head not-so-subtly towards the bathroom, signaling to you that she wanted to talk. Laughing to yourself at how un-smooth, yet totally smooth she managed to be at the same time.

“What’s up girl,” you ask as she pulls you into one of the single stall bathrooms.

“Y/N,” she grabs your shoulders, “he’s BRITISH.”

“Who?” you ask before registering that she was probably talking about that boy she had been grinding on.

“His name is Harrison, and he’s BRITISH, got the accent and everything,” she pressed her back up to the wall, pretending to fan herself off.

“Damn, going international now?” you joke, twiddling with the bottle in your hand.

“So, I need you to check him out, get a vibe, and let me know what you think,” she locks eyes with you, trying to be serious, unable to keep a few giggles from slipping out.

“I saw you two dancing, he’s definitely really good looking,” you tell her. She would always do this, try to make you feel involved, ask your opinion about the guy she was flirting with. She said she always wants your truthful opinion, but she always got the hottest guy at the place no matter where she was, so there wasn’t much for you to tell.

“Ugh, I’m totally gonna fuck him. Should I? I’m going to. I HAVE to. He’s British, and I can’t pass up an opportunity like that,” she was definitely talking to herself at this point.

You turn her towards the mirror, help her fluff her hair, straighten her dress, and give her some words of encouragement.

“You are hot. You are amazing. And you are going to have amazing hot sex with British Harrison,” you chant to her in the mirror, encouraging her to say it back to herself. Not that she needed the encouragement, but these little rituals you had in club bathrooms were always funny and sweet, it was one of the reasons you didn’t mind going out with her. You appreciated that she liked having your opinion, having someone she trusted around.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” you give her butt a tap as she exits the bathroom and shuffles back out onto the dancefloor, finding her man right where she had left him.

Your seat at the bar had been stolen, but you spotted an empty area over by a wall, somewhere you could comfortably stand and wait until Madison left with her suitor. Deciding to order another drink, something a little stronger than the beer you had been nursing, you make your way over to the bar.

Forearms leaning against the hard surface, you poke your head forward trying to get the bartender’s attention. She walks over, but immediately starts chatting up the guy standing next to you. Typical. If she pushed her boobs up a little bit he would probably leave a fat tip, so you couldn’t blame her.

You shift your eyes over to get a look at the guy next to you as he orders his gin and tonic, all you could see were his toned forearms and a glimpse of his profile. Not bad. You understood why the bartender was so eager to ignore you. She eventually stops fake laughing at his order, because what the fuck is funny about a gin and tonic, and looks your way.

“I’ll just have the same,” you say quickly, wanting to get out of there quickly and claim your spot by the wall.

“Are you copying me, love?” the stranger asks, leaning his bodyweight against the bar in the same position as you, “is that your move? Order the same drink to chat me up?”

“What’s your move, love” you quickly quip back, “being a dick to girls at the bar and hoping they’re into that?”

“You just didn’t strike me as a G and T type of girl, that’s all,” he puts his hands up defensively.

“Hmmm I see, be a dick and then tell me what kind of girl I seem like.”

You finally turn to him, allowing yourself to make eye contact. You hoped that he wasn’t taking your banter the wrong way, you weren’t trying to be nasty, you just found yourself in a particular mood.

He opened his mouth to say something back to you, but you cut him off before he could. In the two seconds you had made eye contact, you had realized that the stranger you were having your little back and forth with had an accent. A British accent.

“Are you here with that guy?” you gesture over to Madison on the dancefloor, “tall, blonde, striking blue eyes. English.”

“Harrison? Yeah, he’s my mate. If you’re interested in him you should probably have made your move a while ago, because he seems a bit occupied,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, occupied with my roommate,” you laugh back.

“Ah, I see,” he takes the two drinks from the bartender, handing you yours.

“Is he a good guy?” you ask, not sure why this man would tell you otherwise, “he’s not going to like, tie her up and murder her or anything like that?”

“Harrison? Nah, good guy, decent guy. He might tie her up, but he definitely won’t murder her.”

“Ha ha,” you sarcastically respond, “just looking out for my friend.”

“Why do you ask? You think they’ll go home together?” he asks.

“Oh, most definitely,” you tell him, “she dragged me into the bathroom a minute ago to gush about how she’s about to fuck a British guy.”

“Haz is a bit of a slag, so that won’t be too hard on her part.”

“Yeah, I see they are already well acquainted,” you turn to see Madison’s tongue down his throat. This night may be ending quicker than you had anticipated.

“I’m Tom,” he pulls your attention away from the public displays of affection and back to where he was seated at the bar, an empty seat opening up next to him.

“Y/N,” you stick out the hand that wasn’t holding your drink.

“It’s weird that you shake hands,” he says as he takes your clammy hand into his, his grip tighter than you had expected.

You shrug and take a gulp of your drink, abandoning hope of claiming the spot by the wall and deciding to camp out here with this strange British boy until Madison goes on her merry way.

“So how do you know him,” you nod back to where Harrison and Madison are.

“Oh, Haz is my best mate, we go way, way back,” he leans on his arm again, giving you a good view of his biceps against his black t-shirt, “we live in South London, but we’re here in the States for the summer. Work stuff.”

“Oh, so you two live together?” he nods at your question while sipping his drink, “so we can be sad and lonely at the bar while our hot roommates get it on.”

“Wow, I’ve never been told I’m lousy company before,” his humor met yours, “and I even paid for your drink you copycat.”

“You didn’t,” you give him a stern look but he shrugs back, a mischievous grin creeping across his face.

“Is this your ploy,” you smack the side of his arm, “the two of you find girls at the bar to lure back to your fancy apartment to have a freaky foursome with or something like that?”

“Now who’s being a dick and assuming things,” he says through broken laughs.

“Although,” you draw out your words, “your friend is pretty hot, maybe I’ll just go home with them.”

“Haz most certainly would not be opposed to that,” he jokes back.

You gesture to the bartender to make two more, and to put them on your tab. Tom gives you a look, but you give him one right back.

“Now I don’t owe you anything,” you explain.

“Hey, I’m not like that,” he gets defensive again, “I’m not quite as sleazy as my friend over there.”

“I’m just trying to help you out,” you narrow your eyes, “you’re the one who’s going to have to put up with the two of them all night.” You gesture over towards Madison and Haz.

“Pardon,” he coughs as he downs the rest of his drink, getting ready for the next.

“Oh, you thought they would be going back to our apartment?” you laugh sarcastically, “no, no, absolutely not.”

“Are you being serious? Or are you fucking with me? Cuz I honestly can’t tell.”

“Oh, you’re going to wish I was fucking with you. By the way she’s looking at him, I’m gonna give them, I don’t know, three, four solid rounds,” you try to make an empathetic face but can’t help the grin that creeps onto your face, “and Madison’s a screamer.”

“Too much information, thank you,” Tom covers his ears.

“Hey, I’m just trying to give you a heads up,” you cackle.

“Who’s to say he can’t convince them to go back to yours. I bet it’s closer.”

“She’s good at getting what she wants, and she “doesn’t shit where she eats”,” you make air quotes around the phrase, “in whatever twisted way that means she doesn’t like to bring guys back to our apartment. Weird personal rule, but I don’t question it cuz I always get to sleep peacefully.”

“You wanna bet?” Tom suggests, clearly not having thought this through, “My boy Haz is a smooth talker, and it seems like she really likes him. I say you’re the unfortunate roommate who’s going to have to put up with all that.”

“You’re on,” you set your drink down, extending your hand to him for the second time that night, “what do I get when they go back to your place?”

“If they go back to mine, I’ll cover your tab and leave you alone. And when they go back to yours, you’ll agree to let me take you out sometime,” he shakes your hand with a cocky grin on his face.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a bet, either way you’re buying me a drink.” He was growing on you, the accent, the floppy brown hair, the dimples. You were still wary of meeting strangers at bars, but something about him seemed genuine.

The two of you flipped around in your bar stools and faced the dancefloor. You liked that he never asked you to dance. Most girls would be dying to dance with a guy like Tom, but you liked just sitting at the bar, shooting the shit and sipping your drinks.

“Okay, okay, here they come,” you whisper and jab your elbow into his side.

Madison and Harrison stumble off the dancefloor and make their way to your place at the bar.

“Hey mate,” Harrison slings an arm around Tom’s shoulder.

You tune out their conversation as you notice Madison making a ridiculous face at you, eyes practically bugging out of her head.

“THAT’S his roommate?” she mouths to you, gesturing to Tom. You nod, trying to signal to her to be more subtle.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” she continues to mouth words silently to you.

“What???” you mouth back, trying to not let Tom and Harrison notice this awkward side conversation you were having. Luckily, they were occupied by their own.

“He’s fucking HOT,” She starts to whisper, you scrunch up your face, trying to tell her to stop making a scene about it. She gets the hint, but proceeds to point to you, point to Tom, and then do the finger going in and out of the hole gesture.

You slap her hand down as she starts to laugh, “Jesus Madison, cut it out,” you whisper, “you two are going back to his?” you change the subject.

“Yeah, obviously,” she says a little louder, “sooo, perfect opportunity for you…”

“Chill out, please,” you bring your hand to your temple, knowing she was being anything but subtle and Tom had probably noticed by this point.

“I owe you big time,” Harrison says to Tom as he starts to back away, taking Madison under his arm, “I’m serious bro.”

“Yeah, yeah, be safe you two,” Tom swats the air towards Harrison and turns back towards the bar, burying his head into his hands.

“Ha ha,” you poke his side, “told you that was a bad bet to make.”

“Know any cheap hotels around here?” Tom asks, looking exasperated.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you look at him seriously, “he kicked you out for the whole night?”

“I offered,” Tom sighs, “he would do the same for me.”

“Damn, you’re a good friend. Certainly a better roommate than me,” you turn to him, trying to be sympathetic, “but honestly, you probably didn’t want to be present for any of that anyways.”

Tom gestures towards the bartender with his card, telling her to charge for both your bar tabs.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” you say.

“Hey, a bet is a bet, and now I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

You grab his arm as he starts to get up. Something inside of you told you to help him out, to not let him leave.

“It’s no Four Seasons, but I may know a place where you could kill a few hours,” you tell him, his eyes wide with excitement that you wanted to spend more time with him.

“You sure? It’s really no trouble…”

“Yeah, I’m sure, it’s only a few blocks from here.”

The two of you exit the loud club, only a few minutes behind Harrison and Madison. The stark contrast of the freezing outside air from the sweaty atmosphere of the club hits you. You take a few steps out onto the city sidewalk. Suddenly your feet buckle out underneath you and you are slipping backwards rapidly.

Tom quickly grabs you, one hand catching your shoulders and the other grabbing your hand, helping steady you. You gasp from the fall, but are grateful that you never hit the pavement.

“Hey, watch out for that patch of ice,” he jokes.

“Thank you,” you were a little flustered, both from falling and from being in his arms.

The two of you continue down the street, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You look at him questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

“Just making sure you don’t slip again, love,” he squeezes your hand a little tighter. You roll your eyes at him but don’t let go.

Typically, you would hate the pet names, “love,” “darling.” That stuff usually made your skin crawl. But there was something about his demeanor, maybe it was the accent, that made you not mind it at all. You actually kind of liked it.

“So where are you taking me?” he asks.

“Secret.”

It actually wasn’t anything worth keeping a secret. You worked at a small bar a few blocks away from the club you had been at. It was very different however. It was small, and never crowded other than a few regulars who would take the same booths and order the same drinks every night. It was down a side street, relatively difficult to find, hence the lack of business.

What you weren’t planning on telling Tom was that this was also the building you lived in. Your apartment was a few floors up. You picked up night and weekend shifts at the small bar to help cover rent, plus it wasn’t a bad place to spend your extra time. You never had to work too hard, and you could read or do homework behind the bar when not tending to customers. Plus, you got the pick the music.

You stomped your feet against the doormat, scraping all the collected snow off your shoes. Tom didn’t seem to be bothered that you had brought him to another bar, he seemed happy even. You watched his face intently as his cheeks grew rosy from the warmth of the indoors. You liked how the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Voila,” you gesture to the generally empty room, “the Four Seasons.”

He smiles at you and offers to take your coat. He makes his way over to the bar, choosing one of many empty seats. His eyebrows knit together as you continue walking away from him, hopping behind the bar.

“I’m not sure you’re allowed…” he starts.

“Hey Ernie,” you yell into the back office. Your boss replies with something muffled that Tom can’t quite make out, “no, not working tonight, just here with a friend,” you respond to him.

“Ah, so we’re friends now?” Tom asks as you start to make two drinks.

“Oh sorry,” you respond sarcastically, “I’m just here with the roommate of the guy who’s fucking my roommate, my bad.”

“No, no,” he brings his hands up, “we can be friends.”

He takes a sip of the drink you’ve handed him, asking you what it is.

“Moscow mule, fresh ginger, extra lime.”

“This is great, I’ve never had one of these.”

“What can I say, I’m kind of a pro,” you lean on the bar across from him, folding your arms on the countertop.

He liked your sense of humor, how you always had a comeback or something snarky to say. He also really liked your casual attitude, how you seemed unphased by everything. Little did he know you were constantly screaming inside, completely unsure of everything you said and did. Completely unsure as to how you ended up making a cocktail for one of the most attractive boys you’ve ever met. You tried to keep your cool though, and so far, it had been working.

You faced one another, sipping your drinks. At first an awkward moment of silence settled around you, exposing that the two of you truly had just met and knew virtually nothing about one another. You quickly slipped into easy conversation. You didn’t talk about the typical important things like where you worked, where you go to school, how you ended up in the city. You didn’t ask him why he was in the states, or any details about his personal life.

The stuff you talked about was far more personal than that. You exchanged theories about the ending of Lost, debated what Ben and Jerry’s flavor is best, shared the local vernacular and slang you used. These are the things that are important. You didn’t care what he did for work. But you did care what his favorite sitcom was.

“Does this place serve food at all?” he asked when your conversation had turned to what shape of pasta goes best with what sauces.

“Nah,” you gesture to the bar, “this is everything, no kitchen.”

“Damn, I could go for something to eat. Any good places around here?”

“Unfortunately, no. Everything near us either closed at midnight or will for sure give you food poisoning.”

He ate the lime out of his drink, sucking on the pulp until nothing but the skin was left.

“Really that hungry huh?” you joke, taking his lime wedge and tossing it in the garbage, “cuz I can cut up as many of those as you’d like, maybe even find you some maraschino cherries.”

“Don’t bother, maybe I’ll just drink myself into an oblivion.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” you were going against your better judgment when you said this, but it just slipped out, “I can get you some food, follow me.”

You walked around from behind the bar and instructed him to follow you. You slipped through a back door into a spiraling staircase. The air was cold and musty, and the stairs were slightly rickety under your feet. This was the fastest way to get up to your apartment, and you realized now it was too late to turn back, he had joined you in the stairwell and you started making your way up.

“You were worried about your roommate getting murdered by Haz, but now I’m starting to think I should be the one worried,” his tone was joking, but you wondered if he actually thought you were crazy.

“Very funny,” you dismissed it as a joke, “I live in this building, smarty pants.”

You raced him up a few flights of stairs until you arrived at your floor. You started down the hall, not looking back to see if he was following. Your breath grew a little shaky as you searched for your key, realizing you were letting this stranger, this hot stranger into your apartment.

You were just going to make him some food, you remind yourself. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll let him crash on your couch, who knows. You kept telling yourself you had no reason to be this nervous. He’s just a person.

A person with big brown eyes and strong arms. A person who held your hand and laughed at your jokes. A person who willingly followed you to your apartment door from the sketchy bar you brought him to. Oh god, maybe you did have a reason to be nervous.

“It’s a little messy, hope you don’t mind,” you open the door for him, taking off your shoes at the door.

Your apartment was small, but cozy. You and Madison had been living there for almost two years now, and the apartment was well lived in. Funny pictures donned the walls, fuzzy blankets were strewn around the couches, leftovers filled the fridge.

“What’s on the menu?” he asks, reminding you that he’s here for food.

“Hmmm,” you open the pantry, “we have supplies for stir fry, and… stir fry.”

“I think I’ll have the stir fry,” he laughs, comfortably taking a seat at your small kitchen table.

You quickly started gathering ingredients on the counter, preheating the pan.

“Any preferences?” you yell into the next room.

“I’m not picky,” he responds, “thanks again.”

You start chopping up everything in your fridge and toss it into a pan with some leftover rice. It doesn’t take you long to whip up a decent meal, as stir fry was a recurring meal in your life. You glide into the living room, two bowls in hand. He had found your speaker system and taken it upon himself to put on some music, not that you minded.

“Fuck,” he mumbles after a few mouthfuls, “either I’m starving, or you make a mean fried rice.”

“One of my many specialties,” you were glad that he liked it, glad that he seemed so relaxed despite being in a stranger’s home.

“You’re pretty cool, do you know that?” he took you by surprise

“Umm,” you weren’t sure how to respond to the compliment.

“I just haven’t really met anyone nice since moving here. Haz is really the only other person I know,” he says through bites of food, “and meeting random girls at bars isn’t really a decent way to get to know people, not really know them anyways.”

You were flattered that he was being so honest, but part of you wondered if he was buttering you up to try and get into your pants. You had let him pay for your drinks, taken him to a secondary location, and then cooked him dinner at 2 am, he really would have no reason not to believe you wanted to sleep with him. And you did, oh god did you want to sleep with him, but you were still trying to get a read, was he a flirt like this with everyone? Were you just the girl who happened to be in the right seat at the bar at the right time?

This was why you could never follow through with casual bar hookups. Your mind ran circles around the other person, who they were, where their motivations were coming from. You could never just focus on the fact that you thought he was hot, and you wanted his dick in your mouth.

“Thanks, I guess, you’re kind of cool too,” you avoided eye contact, “but you realize that I am a random girl you met at a bar, right?”

He laughed at your response, finishing his food and taking both of your empty plates into the kitchen. You tried to stop him, but he insisted that you had done the cooking so he would do the dishes, you chose not to argue.

“Yeah but most girls at the bar don’t make me dinner,” he retorts. He had a point, this was kind of an unusual situation you found yourself in. Would this have been easier if you had met him a different way? Rubbed up on him like Madison and Harrison and scurried off to the closest bed? Probably. They were probably already at least two rounds in by now.

“I’ve never taken someone home from the bar before,” oh god, why did you just say that. Why were you being vulnerable and honest, tell him you’re a pro, that you do this all the time.

“Really? I’m surprised,” his tone was nonchalant, so maybe your awkward outburst of truth hadn’t shaken him like you thought it would, “why not?”

“Why not?” you repeat his question to yourself, “I’m just not really good at this kind of stuff, not like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” He turns from the sink to see you leaning against the counter across from him, “You were the one who wined and dined me.”

“I hardly consider stir fry and a vodka mixer to be wining and dining,” you tried to cover up your embarrassment.

“Jeez, then I’d like to experience whatever you consider to be wining and dining, cuz I’m having a great time.”

“What’s your last name?” you ask quickly, suddenly changing the subject

“Holland,” he tells you, “why?”

“I just figured I should know your full name, Tom Holland, if I’m gonna let you sleep in my apartment. You know, in case I have to report you to the police cuz you’ve robbed me or murdered my cat or something.”

“No offense but it doesn’t really look like you have anything worth stealing, and I’m pretty sure you don’t have a cat,” he laughs

“Both true,” you were laughing too. Still in the kitchen, you weren’t sure how to migrate somewhere else.

“You’re sure though? I don’t want to impose. I really can just go find a cheap motel, or go back to my place and crash the orgy that’s probably happening,” he didn’t want to stay if you weren’t comfortable.

“No worries,” you start moving to the living room, “you can make it up to me some other time. I promise you don’t want to be going back to whatever noises are happening in your apartment right now.”

You truly would have been content with him sleeping on the couch, slipping out the next morning, and never speaking again. Well, no. That wasn’t true. You wouldn’t be content, but you’d live with it. You didn’t want to assume anything, didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.

“So,” you start, obviously about to make a fool of yourself, “I can get you some blankets, and you can sleep out here. Or, if you want, we can share my bed. It’s up to you and I won’t be offended either way, I swear.”

Why did you always say things that made you feel so stupid. You winced at your own statement, not wanting to see his reaction. He took a few steps towards you, standing close, but not as close as you would have liked. You continue to look away, waiting for him to say something.

Eyes down on the carpet, you feel his hand grab your chin softly, angling your head up to meet his.

“And when we share your bed,” the breath of his words hitting your face, “are we just going to sleep, or are we...” Although his voice was cool and confident, he was genuinely asking. He had a hard time reading you, and wasn’t sure if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, or if you were just being nice.

“The second one, definitely the second one,” you reply a little too quickly before he pulls your face to his, lips finally meeting.

His face was warm, and he smiled into the kiss, loving the way your round lips felt on his. He let his hands move to the sides of your face, cradling your jaw as his mouth moved against you. You pulled him closer to you by the grip you had on his t-shirt, the white fabric balled up in your nervous grip. You pulled him backwards with you, navigating your way down the hall.

Taking an intermission on the minute walk down to your bedroom, he presses you up against the wall of the hallway, shoulders angled above yours and mouth still hot against you. You reach your hands towards his, wanting to show him that he had control, that you wanted him to take control of you.

Getting your message, he takes your wrists together in one hand and pins them against the wall above you. His hips jut forward into yours as his wet kisses trail from the corner of your mouth down to your neck.

“Fuck, I-” you moan breathily as he sucks a spot below your ear, your hips rolling forward to meet his. All the while his grip remained tight on your wrists, keeping them steadily pinned above your head. You liked the feeling of letting go, having someone else control the situation. You were generally uptight and liked to take control in other aspects of your life, but this is one that you wanted to submit to.

“You what?” he responds with a steady voice, brown eyes burning holes into you. You knew your face was probably flushed red, hair a complete mess, and neck littered with splotches.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper shakily, “Please.”

Letting go of your arms and lifting you up by your thighs in one swift motion, he takes you by surprise as your face falls into his neck.

“This one yours?” he starts walking down to the end of the hall.

“Mhmm,” you mumble as you start to return the favor, licking up and down the base of his neck until you found his sweet spot. Suddenly you were falling back as he playfully tossed you onto your bed, sheets unmade, and blankets bunched up.

You land in a heap, quickly moving to take your shirt off. He moves quicker, practically tackling you down onto the mattress, causing you both to laugh a little.

“Hey,” he protests, “I wanted to do that.” He takes you hands and moves them as he had done before, and lifts your shirt off your body, you arch your back to help.

He slides his arm underneath you, causing your back to stay arched, pressing your chest into his. He slips his tongue back into your mouth, meanwhile he shimmies out of his jeans, letting them fall to the floor with your abandoned shirt.

Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as his other hand snakes its way into your damp underwear. Your hands lurch up into his hair, pulling his face into yours as he starts to draw slow circles up and down your lips.

He finally slips a finger into you, causing a guttural moan to stir deep in your throat. You bite your lip to hold the noises back, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly pumps into you. His face comes back into focus as he steadies your head, running his thumb across your lower lip, tugging it away from your teeth.

Instinctually you wrap your lips around his finger, letting your tongue drag itself across his digit. You open your mouth up from its pucker, letting him alternate his thumb with his index and middle fingers, letting those slip into your warm mouth as well. You match the movements of his hand in your pussy with your mouth, sucking down on his fingers every time he re-entered you.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans, his cock throbbing in his boxer briefs, “I didn’t realize you’d be so dirty.”

You grew a little self-conscious at his comment, opening your mouth so he could remove his fingers.

“It’s so fucking sexy,” he drags the pads of his fingers down your tongue. He moves them down and drags the warm wetness from your saliva down your throat and onto your nipples that were now slipped out of the top of your bra.

You buck your hips into his hand and moan, loving the way he was above you, fucking you with his strong hand, fingers much bigger than your own. You felt his pulsing erection pressing into your lower thigh, and groaned at the thought of him filling you up.

“Tommy,” you didn’t mean to use the nickname, but it slipped out, “condoms are in the shoebox in my bedside drawer, if you want to fuck me.”

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean. Your eyelids fluttered at the sight, grinding your hips up into his to show him how bad you wanted him. His shirt came off and joined the pile of your clothes that was slowly growing larger on your floor. You expected him to be fit based on his arms, but he was stacked, built, unreal.

He clearly liked the attention, a cocky smile creeping across his face as your mouth hung slightly open, eyes dragging across his perfect body. He tugs on the waistband of your pants, that were mostly slipped off at this point, to signal to you to remove them while he rummaged through your bedside drawer.

You maneuver your way into a comfortable position, now completely naked, head resting back on a pillow. He was taking a little longer than you expected, pushing and prodding things around.

“They should be right there, blue box? Probably unopened?” you chuckle trying to make light of the situation. The smile is wiped clean off your face as soon as you heard a faint buzzing, then it stopped, then it started again. Condom in hand, as well as your purple vibrator, he climbs back on the bed up to you.

“You are dirty,” he says, trying not to laugh, “I fucking knew it.”

“Hey, you were not supposed to find that!” You try to snatch it out of his hand but he pulls away too quickly.

“You told me shoebox in the nightstand! What were you expecting me to find? You have like eight of these!”

“I do not own eight! I own five, and they are all different and special in their own ways!” you argue back, both laughing now as he jokingly pressed the vibrating wand into your side.

“You keep all kinds of fun stuff in there, huh?” he was not going to let it go. So what, you kept a few…personal items in a secret box in your nightstand, condoms included. You didn’t think he would look around and take an inventory. Your lack of finesse with strangers in bars was made up for by your wide array of battery-operated boyfriends. It wasn’t your fault that the online shop you ordered from sent free gifts when you spent over $100…like fuzzy handcuffs and cherry flavored lube.

The two of you laughed for a minute, both in nothing but your underwear. You were laughing, but the idea of him fucking you with one of your toys quickly made a crimson blush flush over your face.

“Like I said darling,” he drags the vibrator down your stomach to meet your clothed pussy, “you’re fucking sexy.”

Your hips naturally buck up against his touch, arms snaking their way around his neck to pull his face down to yours. His strong fingers, much thicker than your own, re-entered you as he pressed the vibrator firmly against your clit.

You couldn’t help but moan into his wet mouth as he fucked his fingers into you.

“Please,” you whimper, “fuck, Tom, please fuck me. I need you so bad.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he whispers into your ear, somehow making your pussy wetter than it already is.

He pulls out of you, causing you to groan at the loss of contact. He tosses his boxers off, revealing his rock hard cock that springs up to his lower stomach. You mouth practically started watering at the sight. He pumps his hand a few times and then rolls the condom on.

You manage to move your shaky legs enough to slip your underwear and bra off. You didn’t have the mental capacity to be self conscious about being naked in front of him, because you were far too occupied drooling over his body.

“How do you want me?” you ask innocently, not meaning to moan out the words as you did.

“Flip over,” he gestures for you to get on all fours, and your knees got weak at the thought.

You positioned your ass up in the air, open and ready for him. You let out a sharp breath as he slides the tip of his cock up and down your folds, teasing you before finally pushing inside. He only pushes in part way though, waiting for your reaction.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you try to roll your hips back onto him, but he firmly grips your ass and keeps you in position.

“You need to learn how to be patient, pretty girl,” he slowly pulls your hips back to meet his, agonizingly slow but so fucking good at the same time.

Your eyes began to water because of how good his cock felt pushed all the way into you, you wanted him to move so bad, but he wanted to torture you, make you wait for it.

“Please, will you please fuck me, I need it,” you sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you wanted him.

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Quiet moans left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face.

As his long fingers move your hair behind your ear, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

He took that as a clear green light to yank back on your hair, causing your back to arch more. He keeps fucking you relentlessly, filling the room with sounds of skin slapping against skin. The obscene noises coming from your mouth only encouraged him to fuck you harder, pull your hair harder, grip your hips harder.

With little warning you feel him suddenly slip out of you, and before you could turn around to ask how he wanted you next, you feel his hands grab tightly to the back of your thighs, keeping you propped up exactly as you are. You feel his hot tongue enter your warm pussy from the back, quickly licking wide stripes up your folds.

“Holy shit,” your brain could not process the pleasure you were feeling fast enough.

He starts to feel your thighs shake under his grasp, knowing that you are close. He wanted to make you come, and hard, as a special thank you for inviting him up to your place. And that he did.

He sucked harshly on your clit, hips tilted all the way back for him, giving him perfect access. You couldn't even articulate to him how good he was making you feel. You were moaning so loud you were worried the neighbors could hear, so you take a fistful of sheets and bury your mouth in them, muffling your sounds. You legs began to violently shake as he lapped up your juices, bringing a harsh slap down onto your ass. Your hips fell to the mattress as soon as he let go.

He grabs your waist and helps you flip over so you lay flat on your back. He hovers over you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips. You feel his hard cock pressing into your core, begging for entrance.

“You good?” he asks as your eyes finally focus, your brain coming back down to earth, “do you want to keep going?” he asks genuinely.

“I’m so fucking good,” you bring him down into a more passionate kiss, pressing your hips up into his erection, “I want nothing more than for you to fuck the shit out of me.”

“Thank god, cuz I want to feel that pretty pussy of yours come all over my cock.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, more so as he pushed back into your sopping wet cunt, finding a quick rhythm fucking into you. He presses your thighs back with his large hands, hitting you at the perfect angle. Your mouth gapes open watching his perfect body thrust into you. How the fuck did you get so lucky? Is this a dream? Possibly.

You notice a smirk creep onto his face, he raises his eyebrows and gives you a look.

“You didn’t think I forgot about this, did you?” he grabs the purple vibrator from the side of the bed and flicks the switch on.

You all but explode as he brings it down to your throbbing clit. The addition of the vibrations to his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly sent you into one of the most body-shaking orgasms of all time. If that wasn’t enough, you open your eyes to see his perfect hand wrapping around your throat, applying exactly the right amount of pressure to your neck.

You can’t say anything other than his name over and over as your walls begin to contract around him. You throw your head back as you see stars. He lets his grip on your neck go and leans down to capture you in a kiss, wanting to connect with you as you reached your peak.

Making intense eye contact, you watch as he bites his lip, savoring the feeling of you coming undone around him. You frantically bring your hands to the back of his head, tangling them in his messy hair as you come down from possibly the most intense orgasm of your life.

“Holy fuck baby, feel so good around me, fuck, gonna make me come soon,” he pants between thrusts.

“Mmmm,” you were still fucked-out from your orgasm, “I want it in my mouth.”

His eyes practically fell out of his head at your comment, lips coming down to attack your breasts that had been wildly bouncing each time he pressed into you. In one swift motion he managed to flip you over. You slide down between his legs and start pumping his cock, not wanting to lose momentum.

You wrap your lips around his head, feeling his shaft twitch under your hand. Swirling your tongue around the tip while quickly jerking him off quickly pushes him over the edge, his come filling your mouth along with your saliva.

His hips jerk up as he comes, pushing his length further into your throat, but you don’t mind, in fact you kind of like it. You watch his expression as you swallow his come, making big doe eyes at him. You lick your lips a little and crawl back up to meet his face.

Flopping down next to him, you let your sweaty body fall into rhythm with his deep breaths.

“I-,” he starts, turning to meet your face, “I don’t even know what to say, that was fucking incredible.”

You turn your head away from him, pretending to act shy.

“I fucking mean it, you’re perfect.”

Your cheeks actually turn pink at this. You press your head to his chest, telling him you liked it a lot too. More than liked it.

“I don’t know if this is weird, if I should go…” he starts to move.

“Offer still stands of course,” you grab his hand, wanting to feel his chest against your cheek again, “couch or bed is all yours.”

“Bed please,” he flops back down next to you and lets you tangle up in his arms, “as long as we can do that again in the morning. You have all those fun toys, I need to try them all out on you.”

The two of you quickly fall asleep, naked and basking in your post sex bliss, a huge smile on your face.

The next morning you hear keys jangling in the front door. Opening your groggy eyes, you don’t have time to fully wake up and register what is happening before you hear Madison knocking at your door.

She barges in, wanting to tell you all about her night with Haz.

“Holy FUCK y/n, I-” she starts before seeing the figure next to you in bed.

You frantically grab the sheets to cover yourself up and make a wild gesture to tell her to get out. She silently breaks into a huge grin, waving her arms around and pumping her fists in the air. You keep gesturing for her to get out, but she continues to victory dance on your behalf.

You knew you would never hear the end of this.

#tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #marvel #smut #fanfiction #tom holland #smutty #marvel fanfiction #oof #i need a glass of water

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mommymooze · 3 years

Text

I thought something was cute. A story.

So the post after this was about romantic one liners. They looked cute. How many could I put in a single story. ELEVEN out of 15

Just as you are coming out of your room early on Sunday morning you run into Hilda. She looks bright and radiant of course. “Have I already told you how cute you look?” You smile.

Hilda grins back at you. “You are so adorbs!” she giggles.

You march on down to the dining hall to see what is going on. Claude doesn’t look quite awake as he manages to get one foot in front of the other as he moves towards the smell of delicious breakfast. He has the cutest sleepy grin on his face. “Being half-asleep is a very good look on you. That and your bedhead is always so cute. Mine looks like I’ve been scared half to death with it standing straight up on end.”

You encourage the leader of the Deer by rubbing his shoulders a bit as you push him into the dining hall. Once inside you spot Ferdinand waving at you, he’s saved a seat next to him. He even has your breakfast waiting.

“Good to see you. I picked up your breakfast so we wouldn’t be late for choir practice today.” The redhead smiles and the room seems to light up with the brightest shine.

“Not to sound cheesy, but your smile really lights up the room, Ferdinand!” You grin, looking down at the plate, you laugh. “You remembered my favorite food! How sweet!”

Ferdinand places his hand on his heart, “It would be ignoble of me to not pay attention to the favorites of my friends.” The ray of sunshine himself blesses us with another beaming smile.

You finish breakfast, taking back the dishes and head to the Cathedral. The choir director calls on Ferdinand to perform his solo for this week’s celebration.

He look a little nervous as he finishes and returns to his place beside you. While the director is distracted he asks, “Do you think it sounded okay?”

You beam a smile back at him. “Okay? It was amazing. I could listen to you all day. I love your voice. If you don’t have plans after the war, you should go into the opera or performing some musicals!”

Ferdinand blushes profusely, then the choir director calls attention to the next song to begin. Practice goes on for another half hour. Your breakfast has settled and now you need to get dressed for some training. You get to your room and swap for your workout clothes. Grabbing your bow you head to Bernadetta’s room. Knocking at the door you announce yourself. “Hey Bernie! It’s me! Ready to go?”

A frightened shaky voice answers. “I’m not feeling up to it. Just go without me.”

You frown for a second. “Bernie. Can we talk? May I come in?” You’ve been working with her for a few months, knocking down a few of her barriers. She has come to trust you a little.

“Oh. Okay I guess.” Bernie unlocks the door.

You stand at the door, counting slowly to three. You don’t want to burst in on her, you don’t want to scare her so you give her an extra second to gather her wits. You open the door as little as possible and slide inside, keeping your back to the wall there. “Hi.” You say quietly, smiling softly.

“Oh no! I’ve ruined your day and it’s all terrible. Bernie is so stupid!” She shakes and quivers on her hands and knees ten feet in front of you.

“Bernie, you know I did not say that. I am honest with you and I say what I mean. I only asked to talk. Do I look miserable? Of course not. I haven’t seen you in a few days. I’ve missed you so much and I was hoping to go practice some archery, just you and me. Is that okay?”

“Oh, is that all? I thought I did something wrong.” Bernie at least sits up, getting off of her hands, still on her knees.

You sit cross legged in front of the door so you are eye level with her. “I need to practice, and you have such an eagle eye. I want to learn from you because you are so good. Don’t you deny it either. You get perfect bullseyes so many more times than me and I would really appreciate it if you help me, okay?”

“I think you are pretty good with a bow.” Bernadetta is relaxing a little bit, sitting cross legged too.

“I have really improved since we started working together. You are a good teacher and patient with me. I want to return the favor. I know sometimes you are overly concerned, well, you can always talk to me, I will always be here for you. Okay?”

“S-sure.” Bernadetta agrees.

“Still not in the mood to practice today then?” You ask.

“No. I’ve had too much going on today. I think the rest of today will be an inside day.” Bernie mumbles drawing circles on her knee.

“Want me to stay and talk to you or would you just like to have quiet time? I’ll do whatever you like.” You are honest and want her to choose what she wants.

“I don’t feel like talking right now.” Bernie admits.

You nod. “I will watch at dinner, if there’s a good dessert you like, I will nab one for you. I can’t have my sweet friend and archery instructor feeling sad all day. Okay?”

Bernie’s face brightens a bit. “Deal. Maybe next time we can do some practice.”

You stand and open the door, briefly waving and smiling at your reclusive friend as you head back outside. Bow in hand you head to the Archery practice range. As you walk past the fishing pond you run into Sylvain.

“Hey gorgeous, how is your day going?” Sylvain winks as he approaches.

“It would be better if I had an instructor for some archery today.” You shrug.

“I was going to say something witty about lances, because that’s my specialty, but then I didn’t want you to feel creepy.” He grins and rubs the back of his neck.

“I can’t say you normally make me feel creepy, but that probably would. Hmmm. I cannot find the words to describe how I feel about you. Anyway, if you see anyone wanting to practice bow work, send them my way. And no, I’m not going to find anyone interested in your…” you wind up giggling at him and he just rolls his eyes.

After dinner and taking Bernadetta some cake, you make it to the Archery range. Nobody seems to be around here today. You grab a few quivers, hanging one from your back the other two off your legs. You do a few stretches and string your bow. You are hitting the targets, but nothing is close to the bullseye. You run out to retrieve your arrows to start another round.

Taking your stance, you nock an arrow. You’ve pulled back the string and are taking aim when you hear a noise behind you.

“Don’t let go. Stop a sec.” Claude says as he steps up behind you. He puts one finger at the end of each of your shoulders. “Your stance should be as wide as your shoulders at a minimum.” He checks your grip, your stance, your breathing. He explains a few other adjustments to you then tells you to take 5 shots, and don’t rush.

You shoot the five arrows as requested. Claude steps behind you and you can feel his fingers on each side of your neck. It almost feels like he is trying to lift you up by your head.

“You need to have a really good straight posture. Think of Ferdinand’s posture. His back is always straight. He sits as tall as he can in a chair. Sometimes I can see you are hunched over just a little bit. Back straight! Chin up!”

He comes around to stand in front of you, his finger curls under your chin to move it up just a hair. “Another thing I’ve noticed, you’re not taking enough time to aim. You can’t pull back, say that is it and let go. Give yourself a few seconds to really make sure you have your target identified, your stance perfect, back straight, you’re breathing properly.”

Claude stands behind you as you aim. He corrects things as he sees them. He nudges your feet wider apart. Just before you pull back the bow string he reaches around your neck and tilts your head back to level. You almost jumped out of your skin one time because his voice was right in your ear saying, “Breathe.”

After quite a while of working with Claude you actually feel much improved, almost like you kind of know what you are doing. You gather the arrows and bring them back one final time. You unstring your bow and place it against the wall.

Claude takes your bow hand in his, holding your hand and wrist, talking about proper wrist placement. He takes your other hand, pulling it back pretending to pull the bowstring back to release the arrow. He’s saying something about wrist placement, but his eyes are looking straight into yours. His face is so close you can count the eyelashes around his gorgeous green eyes.

“Claude,” you smile, “I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me…I give you permission to just do it.” Your hands slide down his forearms to his elbows and wind around his waist.

His finger is at your chin again, tilting it up way too high to aim for a target, but at a perfect angle to target with his lips as he kisses you softly. You sigh at the touch as you slowly open your eyes to gaze into his.

“One kiss is never enough.” You whisper as you chase after his lips for more.

All too soon the bells sound at the monastery and it is time to head back to their rooms. Grabbing your bow you turn to Claude.

“Thank you so much for all of the lessons. I feel much improved, amongst other things.” You grin.

“Happy to help.” Claude bows slightly. “Tonight was just perfect.” He says as he gently touches at the small of your back, leading you back towards the dorms.

#fe3h x reader #fe3h #fe16 #feth #fire emblem three houses #claude von reigen #claude von riegan

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aspenflower17 · 3 years

Text

Finding You (Part 18 of ??)

Hey everyone! I 'm probably going to get the rest of this chapter out... Friday? My brain just won’t focus today and I wanted to get something out today :)

If you are new here and want to read from the beginning, here is the link for Part One. I also have links to all the parts on my Masterlist, which is pinned to the top of my page :)

Taggles: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (If you want to be added to the tags list, please just ask to be added below or you can always DM me :) )

Satan/F!Mc

Word Count: 3,172

TW: angst

“I have just done the impossible,” Mc announced, feeling very satisfied.

“Huh?” Satan asked, blinking as he put his book down.

Mc sighed, and flopped on him dramatically, “I just went to petition for our son to stay from the evil overlord, and you couldn’t even greet me for my victorious return?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll never guess what just happened in… Wait… He agreed to it?!”

Mc beamed up at him, holding a paper, “He just asks that you sign this to lay some ground rules down.”

“I knew he’d do something like this,” Satan huffed, folding his arms, “It’s like he doesn’t trust me.”

“Well, not to play devil’s advocate,” Mc laughed a bit at the expression, “But you did fill the house with cats last time you were allowed to have one. I can understand his… reservations on the subject.”

Satan frowned, looking away from her, “So, even you agree with him?”

“Well, obviously not about everything. Otherwise I wouldn’t be trying to make him let us keep Leo. I can sympathize with not wanting your house overrun with animals. Especially when you’ve already got so many trouble makers already in the house… Am I wrong?” she asked at his frown.

Satan sighed, “I guess not.”

“Just think of it this way. If you can prove to Lucifer you can be responsible and take care of Leo, you might be allowed to keep another cat down the road.”

“You need to stop making such good points Mc,” Satan huffed a laugh, his irritation gone.

“Hmmm… I think I need to continue to make great points actually. Okay, while you look over the contract to make sure Lucifer doesn’t have something up his sleeve, I’m going to go tell Leo the good news.”

“He was upstairs last time I checked,” Satan called over his shoulder as Mc went off in search of the cat. She took the stairs two at a time, having gotten used to climbing them since Leo came into their life. Coming to the top, her eyes scanned the area for him, “Leo! Leo, where are you?”

A small meow announced the presence of said cat, coming out of nowhere, as usual. He started twining between Mc’s legs, looking up every once in a while to meow at her. Once she stopped, Mc laughed, picking him up. He adjusted his paws until he was hugging her as usual, purring the whole time, “Oh baby boy, did you miss me? I know I missed you. But, you’ll never guess! Lucifer said you could stay. Daddy’s looking over the rules right now to make sure they’re acceptable, but after that you’ll be able to stay here! No more roaming the streets in search of your next meal, though you’ll be allowed out obviously. You just have to promise you’ll come back,” Mc started scratching between his shoulder blades, eliciting an even louder purr, “Oh, it’s been awhile since I had a cat. I forgot how soothing purring is,” then whispering conspiratorially, “You’ll be so good for Satan. Speaking of which, let's go downstairs and see him.”

Satan was frowning slightly at the document, his reading glasses having materialized out of nowhere. Mc was sure he didn’t actually need them, seeing as how he was a near immortal being, and suspected he only used them as a tool for intense studying, but she was never going to complain. He looked so good with them on. She shifted Leo to one arm, and took out her phone to snap a photo of Satan. She loved that they had a relationship where they could just snap photos of each other without the other thinking it was weird.

Satan looked up at the camera sound, and reached for his polaroid, “Say cheese.”

Mc laughed, posing with Leo. The photo soon emerged, and Satan smiled as he watched the photo start emerging, “Another one for the drawer.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” Mc asked, coming closer to stand next to Satan. Leo wiggled a bit, so she put him in Satan’s lap, where he circled a couple times before curling into a ball.

“It seems… reasonable enough at first glance. I’ll have to go over it in more detail later, but I think you did it.”

Mc grinned and threw her arms over the back of Satan’s chair, giving him a hug from behind, “I’m so glad. Not only does Leo get a home, now you have someone to keep you company while I’m back at home.”

Satan’s hands grabbed her arms, pulling them even tighter to himself, “Do you really have to go?”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she smiled, kissing the top of his head, “I could never stay away from you for too long. Plus, I need to make sure to keep Diavolo happy. Otherwise I won’t be able to return at all.”

“I should petition him to let me go with you.”

“You have a job to do down here, Darling. Plus, I don’t want to see what would happen if you got stuck in rush hour traffic. I think you might be able to come visit me though.”

Satan sighed, kissing Mc’s hand, “Only if Lucifer allowed it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to convince him,” Mc smiled, moving down to kiss Satan’s cheek, his soft hair tickling her nose.

He turned his head, eyes soft, a little smile gracing his lips, “Just don’t stay away for too long.”

“I promise,” Mc smiled, looking straight into the eyes.

Mc awoke a bit abruptly, though it wasn’t unpleasant. That was until a wave of loneliness suddenly crashed down, causing her eyes to open, though they were reluctant. The soft light in the room allowed her eyes to adjust rather quickly, revealing the demon she’d been dreaming about, “Mnh, Satan?” He was standing closer to her than she would’ve expected. She extended her arm, to grab at his hand, “Is that you?”

“It is,” he answered softly, accepting her hand in his. The loneliness instantly disappeared, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Mc relaxed instantly, “Mmmm… No. It was a really nice dream actually.”

“I’m sorry you had to wake up then.”

“Mmmm, is okay. It’s nice to wake up and have you here,” she answered truthfully, sleep turning her filter off.

Satan’s eyes went wide, and his grip on her hand tightened and then went rigid, “Really?”

“Mmmhmm,” she answered, closing her eyes.

“Hey. You probably shouldn’t fall asleep again. It’s getting kind of late and you still need to get back to the castle.”

“I can’t just stay here?” Mc asked, yawning loudly, “I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”

”I’m afraid not. I don’t think Luke or Michael would like that very much.”

“... I guess you’re right,” Mc sighed, forcing herself to sit up. The blanket on her body fell down, and she frowned at it, her sleep addled brain trying to think, “Did I grab a blanket?”

“Oh, that was me. I know my room can get pretty chilly so I wanted to make sure you weren’t too cold.”

Mc blinked at the kindness, her brain clearing, “Oh my… I fell asleep. I’m so sorry! I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I promise it’s not because it was boring or anything. It was really lovely actually. I hope-”

“Hey, hey. Please don’t worry yourself Mc. I feel honored you trust me enough to fall asleep in my presence,” he smiled kindly.

Mc felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked down, “Still. It’s rude to fall asleep when spending time with someone.”

Satan chuckled and squoze her hand, “You can fall asleep around me if you’d like. You really don’t have to worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. If I’d had a problem with it I would have woken you up earlier.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course Mc,” Satan smiled again, and Mc felt her heart jolt a bit, “We should probably get you back to the castle soon.”

“R-Right.”

Mc sat at her desk, writing in the notebook usually reserved for her art ideas. She’d need to get a new one soon, but this would have to do for now. Now that she’d had time to think everything through, she was starting to piece something together. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had the feeling it would lead to what she’d been searching for this whole time.

Let’s see, there’s all these dreams… Though, should they even be called that? Are they prophecies? It’s not deja vu, as the situations don’t feel like they’re repeating. Just a sense of familiarity. I might even be able to write it all off as a dream if it weren’t for the fact that Satan’s room was the same as that other dream I’d had, and I’d never been there before. There’s obviously something going on and I need to figure out what it is. Mc looked down at the sheet in front of her realizing she’d been drawing the whole time she’d been thinking. She was a bit flustered when she saw it was Satan when he’d been holding her hand. She shut her notebook, that strange feeling when Satan had smiled at her earlier flitting around in her chest. She had written off the feeling as residual embarrassment combined with relief that he wasn’t upset. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts, “Mc. Are you in there?”

“Just a moment Diavolo,” Mc called out, putting her notebook under her pillow. She felt the strong need to hide what she was doing, though she couldn’t quite figure out why.

She opened the door to his wide smiling face, “I was wondering if you would like to join me in a game of chess?”

“Oh. Sure, if you want. I’m not very good at it though.”

“That’s alright. After all, how is someone supposed to get better at something if they don’t practice?”

“Very true. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in playing against someone who’s not at your level.”

“Who’s to say I’m above your level?”

“Well, generally when people own a chess set they’re above my level,” Mc smirked.

“Fair enough,” Diavolo laughed, gesturing for Mc to follow him.

“So, what’s on your mind?”

“That, not only are you a gracious winner, but that you’re even more skilled at this game than I first thought. It takes skill to bring your playing down to novice level without making “mistakes”.”

Diavolo chuckled, moving another piece, “I wouldn’t say you’re a novice. You’re doing quite well.”

“I’d have to disagree with you there, but thank you anyway.”

“If I’m as skilled as you say, wouldn’t I be better qualified to assess your skill level than yourself?”

“I suppose,” Mc hummed, wondering what Diavolo was getting at.

“Satan is pretty talented when it comes to chess as well.”

Mc paused in moving her piece, “Is that so?”

“Yes. He’s probably the most tenacious player I’ve ever met. Though he’s never beat me, he’s gotten very close before.”

“Ah.”

“That attitude is what made him who he is. His desire to grow and learn is one of his defining characteristics. Though it’s probably not a fair comparison, he has grown and continues to grow the most out of all his brothers.”

“Why would you say it’s not fair?”

“Because they already had defined personalities when they Fell. Certain characteristics were obviously enhanced or repressed turning from angels to demons, but they’re essentially the same beings.

“Satan is a different story. Though he came from Lucifer and has memories of the Celestial Realm, all he really was in the beginning was wrath, the most literal embodiment of his sin I could imagine. I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve never met another being like him. He is truly unique. I watched all the brothers adjust to their sin, figuring out how they would represent their sin. They’ve all struggled in their own way, but Satan’s struggle is of a different kind. He’s had to learn how to go against everything he was to become something more.

Which brings me back to my point: It’s probably not fair to compare his growth to his brothers, but he continues to grow and learn from his mistakes, while the others seem to have… stagnated a bit.”

Mc nodded as she surveyed the gameboard, though her thoughts were more on their conversation. She had so many questions about Satan, many ones she didn’t feel she could ask him...

“So, anything else on your mind?”

“Only if you’re offering answers.”

Diavolo looked Mc straight in the eyes, “Ask away.”

Mc blinked a couple times, “Umm… Of course I can’t think of anything really pressing now.”

“What’s the first question that comes to mind?”

“Well, I guess since we were talking about it, what was his last period of intense growth?”

Diavolo cocked his head, “Interesting question. Besides right now?... Though it’s not a happy memory, probably the grieving period after she died.”

“Do you mean the girl he wrote the song for? Mammon told me a little bit about it.”

“How much did he tell you?” Diavolo asked slowly, eyes searching hers.

“I would guess the basics? He said he’d loved a human, and after she passed away, he played the song one last time and then said he’d never play it again, but then he did at the dinner party. He also mentioned he hadn’t dated anyone before or since her.”

“I suppose those are the basics,” Diavolo sighed, moving another piece on the board.

“Can… Will… You tell me about her?” Mc asked, the question feeling more important than it had when Mammon had first mentioned it.

“Hmmm… I think my hands might be tied wen it comes to that question,” Mc felt an unexpected wave of disappointment wash through her at his answer, “But, I sense there’s more to that question than what you asked.”

“I… Maybe?” Mc answered, her reaction shocking her. Even so, she couldn’t dispel the feeling.

“What made you ask the question?”

“I… It seems important,” was the only thing Mc could think to answer with.

Interesting. Well, checkmate, and with that, it’s time for me to head to bed. Goodnight Mc.”

“Oh, you’re right. Goodnight,” Mc answered, though her thoughts were far from the game that sat in front of her.”

Mc sighed for what felt like the eightieth time that night. What could Diavolo have meant by all that? He was obviously hunting at something. The problem is, I’m not sure what it is. Though, why do I care about her? It seems more than me just being concerned for Satan’s well being. He’s obviously feeling better about the whole situation with her, seeing as how he played that song.

Mc replayed her memory of him playing the song in question, and found herself questioning that assessment. If he truly was feeling better, wouldn’t the longing in his voice have lessened? He had laid all his feelings bare, and the truth was, he wasn’t over her.

A stab of jealousy attacked her heart, making her blink a couple times. She went back to the memory in question, only to find the whole thing tinged in the sin. She retreated further into her head, far from the feeling. She sat up, grabbing the glass of water from her bedside table, hands shaking. As she tried to put it back down, her fingers loosened too much and she almost ended up spilling the rest of the water. Sighing the eighty-first time that night, she grabbed the book off the table, opening it and trying to drown out her feelings.

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Barbatos asked, stepping forward to refill Luke’s glass with whatever tea he’d decided on serving them.

“Everything tastes great. I’m just not hungry this morning,” Mc smiled weakly, before returning to pushing the food around her plate. Attempting to make the butler feel better, she took a bite of the pride cake he’d prepared. It had actually become a favorite of hers, much to the delight of Diavolo who couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Today however, it reminded her more of glue than anything else.

“Are you feeling alright Mc??” Michael asked, “You’ve seemed… off these past couple days.”

“I just haven’t been able to sleep lately,” Mc answered, “I’ve just hit a snag in my art.”

“Maybe you should take some time off today then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have the day free, and I’ve wanted to talk to you about something,” Michael tried again.

“Actually, I’m just going to head out to clear my head.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Well, I do need to talk to you sometime soon.”

“Sure,” Mc answered, relieved he wasn’t going to push the situation further.

Mc wandered aimlessly, willing the sounds of the Devildom to drown out her thoughts, but she seemed to have opened some sort of floodgate in her thoughts. Angels were known for their extreme restraint when it comes to their own feelings. During the process of becoming an angel, there was a sort of damper that was put on their feelings. Supposedly it could be turned on or off at will like a switch. Many angels went their whole existence without turning the switch off. Mc had seen Simeon when his had been off, usually when he was writing, so she knew it existed. She also had some control over her switch, but she had a feeling hers didn’t work quite as well as other angels. She’d theorized that’s why she could create art as readily as she did, and why it seemed humans related more to her art than her fellow angels. When she was younger, she figured it would develop more once she got older. It hadn’t however. She might have had an easier time covering up how she actually felt, but the control wasn’t there.

Now however, it seemed like she had no control over it, relying on outside influences to help her from feeling like she was losing her mind. Among her newfound jealousy at center stage, she could feel her anger at Michael hiding in the eves of her mind. There was also a confusion that seemed to be seeping into everything else she did and was, lighting the whole scene. She had no idea what had changed, but she wished it would stop. She was getting a headache. No wonder humans sometimes went crazy.

“Mc? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out to her.

“Hey Mammon. What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ got outta RAD for the day. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, I’m… trying to clear my head.”

“So wha’s botherin’ ya?”

“What?”

“You’re havin’ a hard time right? I can see it all written all over your face,” Mammon smiled kindly, “Come get some ice cream with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hehe ^_^

Part Eighteen and a Half

#OBEY ME #obey me satan #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me mammon #obey me fic #obey me f!mc #obey me! swd #obey me swd #finding you #aspenflower17 #obey me long fic

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