#it does not suit me out my glorious name of fire | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brownandblackpearls · 3 years

Text

🦇𝒯he 𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.3

PART 3 SUMMARY:

You’re given a lackluster tour of Dracula’s castle that adds more questions than it answers, yet your quarters are beyond admirable and enough to forget the mysteries for just tonight. His ice is slowly melting, but not enough for you to see anything certain. To help speed things along, you decide to be a friendly guest and cook breakfast for the both of you.

─── Alucard x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.

☾ previous. ☾ next.

┌───────────━┿──┿━──────────┐

└───────────━┿──┿━──────────┘

Your host is as gracious as the circumstances allow, you begin to realize. As immense and as glorious as the few parts of the castle you’ve seen are, your host confides that they were once even grander. He speaks briefly of there being a battle of sorts. He doesn’t say when or why, despite prodding, but it helps to fill in some of the gaps you have.

Spying some of the deeper gouges and gashes in the tough stone, you can’t help but wonder exactly what he was battling.

“You won the battle, then...?” You ask.

“Something like that,” he says simply enough, but it reads rather ominously to your ears.

You pause as you follow him, trying your best not to sound too afraid. You hope no enemies from this past battle still sneak about...

“So it’s just you and I, here…?”

He turns on you slowly, and a familiar dread rises in your gut as you realize you’ve angered him once again. Unfortunately for you, you’re not sure how. His features appear natural and still, but what you are feeling under your skin hints at the truth to his demeanor. You catch a hint of fang as he speaks, and you wonder if it’s intentional.

“Yes. Does that suit your plans?”

You hesitate, unsure.

“I…’plans’? I don’t—“

“—Allow me to assist you. Silver is a trifle. Stakes are laughable. Garlic does nothing, and no holy symbol nor water—no matter what wayward priest you find to bless it—will help your cause. Sunlight is a pleasure to my skin, which heals from fire, knife wounds, and all other maladies in conception, if you even manage to pierce it. If a Belmont had trouble making me bleed, you surely will. The few things that I am susceptible to, are magic, decapitation, and stakes, but then again, who isn’t? I implore you to try though, and wish you luck. Believe me, you will need it.”

Like before, as if you’ve been transported back behind the walls of books, he is upon you, and you cannot help but tremble. The ruby red is back, flickering just behind his sunstorm eyes. You are beside yourself but you do your best to think quickly as to what nonexistent offense he’s percieved.

‘Does he think I mean to kill him? How even could he assume such a thing…? From me, of all people...?’

“I do not wish to make an attempt on your life,” you say slowly, clearly. “My magic is very poor, but not my behavior towards hosts kind enough to allow me in their homes.” You put a heavy emphasis on the ‘host’ portion, hoping to remind him of his promise from before.

“Enlighten me then,” he asks in a tone that seeks anything but enlightenment. “Why do you want to know if we are alone, if not to better plan something that would require isolation?”

You find yourself frowning.

“You…you completely misunderstand me, sir…” you begin, stepping back. “I just…I asked if we were alone because….I…I…”

Something in your face must call out to his reason, because the red drains out from his eyes and he steps away, reeling back. The grieved look returns.

“You’re afraid,” he realizes suddenly, aloud. “You want to ensure nothing else lurks in these walls.”

You nod, happy to be comprehended, for once.

“Yes,” you insist. “The damage from the battle...I see it, and I think that your foes were very strong. I only hope they were all defeated and that it is just you and I here, alone, sir—er, Alucard.”

He nods, looking somewhat embarrassed now.

“It is only us, in these walls.”

You sigh happily, glad to have your fears discarded. The castle was still scary and intimidating of course, as large as it was. It felt as though something had to be tiptoeing somewhere around in the fortress, yet...he would know the place better than you, wouldn’t he...? And if he says its just you two, then hopefully that is so.

“Good,” you sigh.

He makes no move at the sound of his name in your mouth, but he does think on your words before bowing his head ever so lightly.

“I apologize,” he admits. “I keep...jumping to conclusions. I made you fret after giving my word. Forgive me.”

You watch him with pleasant surprise, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

So there were manners somewhere in there.

“You’re forgiven. I’m sure you must have had a rough go of assassins, being who you are and all.”

“I’ve had my share,” he admits, before turning to advance through the corridor. You don’t have time to think about his ‘share’, trying to keep up. You know he can move far faster than he is showing now, and you appreciate the effort he makes to go at a human pace so that you may follow closely behind.

Deep down, you are still worried about what lays in the castle. You do feel safer, knowing something supernatural like him is at your side, and vowed to make sure no harm befalls you.

“Well,” you continue conversationally, trailing after him, “thank you for soothing my concerns. I feel all the safer for it.””

“...Odd,” he comments. “Hm?”

“You, feeling safer alone in Dracula’s castle, with a dhampir.”

You chuckle.

“I suppose it is odd when you put it that way. Just work on that temper of yours, and I’ll really be right as rain!” The jest is funny enough for you, but it doesn’t land so well with your present company.

He scowls, but the real heat is gone. Energized from knowing he is bound by promise and that there are no others here, you feel bold enough to place an assuring hand on his arm.

He feels strong and solid, like stone. He stiffens before pulling away, peering down at you.

You try your best not to look too hurt. You smile assuringly instead.

“Believe me, Alucard. I’m not here to try and do you in. I mean, look at me! You think I’m foolish enough to attempt such a thing on you when I could hardly handle that crowd of ruffians outside?”

You laugh then, slapping a hand on your leg. It is the bare one from the rip in your dress, and the smack is much louder than you anticipate. It’s enough to silence you into meek embarrassment.

Alucard simply watches you before turning around and leading you on.

You follow him silently now, and you quickly find that the tour is rather lacking. He says little about the winding halls you are led through, and you can’t help but wonder the stories of each hallway, of each room. Will you ever learn of them?

The place is monstrous, and so the soles of your feet are a bit sore by the time you reach what Alucard regards as your quarters.

“You will stay here,” he gestures past a large emblemed door into a wide room.

You peer inside, finding a beautifully canopied bed, heavy curtains attached to what you can only assume is a gigantic window. There is a large bookcase, a fireplace, an armchair, a desk, and a small door leading into another room.

“That is your bathing room,” he notes.

When you stare at him curiously, he explains.

“My father possessed immense technological advancements,” he says quickly, as if he’s explained it several times before. Perhaps he has.

‘So his father is Dracula,’ you think. ‘But the stories of Dracula were much more…gruesome and cruel. If this is his son...this man is certainly scary when roused, but…’

His deep voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“The washing room has a basin called a ‘tub’. There is also a bidet with a smaller basin called a toilet. No need for outhouses or bringing up jugs of water here. We have plumbing.”

Now, you’re utterly confused.

Alucard sighs.

“Just…follow me. I’ll show you.”

You do just that and watch, engrossed, as your host thoroughly lays out and points to every faucet, knob, and all of their uses. Before long, you ascend from a common traveling woman to an expert in an alternate world knowledgeable on things such as ‘plumbing’.

You beam at the tub and sink, too giddy with joy to hide it. You bounce a little, your hands drawing to your chest excitedly.

Alucard levels a raised brow at you, pausing.

“...Are you alright?”

You nod happily, twirling in the bathroom to face him.

“This place is incredible! Plumbing! Who would’ve thought? There was almost something like this I saw over the Eastern seas, but the people there called them…acq..acqueducts! They were these large beams that delivered their water…oh, but no matter! My hair! Goodness, it will be leagues easier…”

Alucard glances at your crown of curled, kinky locks before refocusing on you.

“How did you manage, before?”

“Oh, ponds. Streams. Rivers. The seaside. That sort of thing,” you say absently. “The chill of the water did wonders for my mane, but I felt like an icicle the entire time. And you say I can have heated, freshwater through these devices? I can’t lie, I’m ecstatic!”

Alucard nods shortly at that, watching you curiously, but seemingly unable to share your interest in the fixtures. Perhaps you’re more of an interest for him at this point than the plumbing. You eyeball his own healthy mane and assume he’s long been used to such luxuries.

“Oh, but…can I wash my garbs in the tub, too?”

Alucard tilts his head at that before realization sparks in his eyes.

“No. No, you’ll wear something else. That’s fairly ruined.”

You silently leave out the part that it is partially his fault, but he seems to catch on anyway.

“I…” he tries stiffly. “I apologize again. For before.”

“Oh?” You respond innocently. “For what? Scaring me? Yelling at me? Threatening my life? Tripping me?”

He sinks a little lower with each act.

“All of it.”

“Oh! Well, then you’re forgiven. As much as I appreciate the apology, I have a feeling that this ‘tub’ will more than make up for it.”

Alucard seems to relax at that, showing you the cabinets with everything you’ll need.

“I’ll…” he trails off. “I’ll find you some clothing.”

He turns to leave, but you reach out to gently grip the tuft of white blouse peeking out from his sleeve. He turns, watching you sharply.

He does not pull away, though. You call it progress.

“Alucard,” you say. “Thank you for your hospitality. Sincerely.”

He looks to the floor instead of your eyes—as if he’s afraid of what he’ll find there—before gently pulling away and wordlessly leaving the room.

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

You are lucky enough to find interesting soaps and good-smelling candles before working the bath. With some maneuvering and much delight, you are able to conjure bubbles through use of items you’ve scavenged from the cabinets. You find washcloths, sponges, brushes, and an assortment of other things.

You want to wait for your host to return first, but as the minutes continue to pass you realize you need to take advantage of the hot water before it cools.

You shed your clothes, undo your hair, and step into the water-filled basin.

“God…” you whisper, goosebumps rising on your skin.

It feels incredible.

You sink into the water, a smile on your face. You haven’t felt something this good since traveling to hot springs in your more daring adventures. Back then, you had to evade the cultist locals for a hint of heated water. This was so different, as it was your own personal hot spring whenever you desired!

You sink deeper into the water for a bit before beginning to scrub and lather your journey off of you. You decide to empty and fill the tub once more, just because you can, and bathe a little more before feeling pristine to your liking.

Stepping out, you massage in some leftover body oil from your pack. You clean the basin before peeking out into your room.

There is no one present, but a new, soft nightdress lays comfortably on the chair. Your fireplace is even lit.

You smile to yourself as you step out and lift the nightdress, assessing it.

“So his bark is louder than his bite,” you decide aloud.

You change swiftly, and despite being in such an strange situation, once in the massive bed, you find sleep has come right on your heels. Your eyes almost slide shut until you hear a knock at your door.

You open your eyes and slip out of bed. You push open your door—which has a heavy lock, you now realize—to see Alucard, in low lantern light, gazing back at you.

“I trust you found everything,” he says, rather than asks. You hear the question for what it is.

“Yes,” you smile. “Thank you.”

He considers your expression for a long moment before nodding his affirmation.

“Hm. Very well. There is a lock on the door of your room…if that’s any consolation to any fears you may have. Feel free to use it. Good night then,” he says, turning to leave.

“Alucard?” You call.

When he waits for you without turning to face you, you speak.

“Where will you be staying?”

‘If I need you,’ you think.

You soon realize that this may become a situation where Alucard hears something in your speech that is not really there. With a solemn look, and the absence of an anger just as disturbing as its presence, he points to a door just down the hall from you. You would be pleased if not for the expression on his face.

“Just there,” he says.

You realize that due to the two misunderstandings being him assuming you want to kill him, that this is likely what this third time revolves around.

“Alucard,” you try, “I don’t intend to condescend, but you must know, I only ask for my own concern. I’m happier to know that my host is nearby. I meant no ill will by it. I’d be a poor assassin, remember?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, as if he really is just recalling it. “I remember.”

“You’d hear me before I even entered, I bet!”

“I would.”

“So there is nothing to worry about…right…?”

His stiff shoulders finally seem to relax an inch.

“I suppose. In any case…You are not to enter my domain, under any circumstances, outside of imminent danger. It would be…unwise of you.”

You nod, unsure of what exactly he means but positive he that he does mean what he says.

“I will see you in the morning...?”

He pauses at that, looking somewhat bewildered.

“I…yes, you will.”

“Alright!” You nod, pleased. “Good night then.”

Closing the door, you turn to the large, firelit room and beam.

It is a princess’s quarters…no, a queen’s! You will live lavish while you’re here, it seems.

You lay on the soft mattress under the thick covers, knowing pleasure you’ve never felt before until sleep takes you gently into the night.

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

When you wake, it is before the sun has fully broken into the sky. Pretty blues and pinks spill across the sky outside your window, so different from the cold colors of the day before. Rising in your nightgown, you spy a dress on the chair of your room. Alucard must have entered in your sleep. Had you locked the door...? You cannot recall. Under normal circumstances, traveling on the road, you would have never forgotten such a thing as utilizing a lock. For some reason, perhaps last night you felt you didn’t need to.

You absently palm your neck for pinpricks of the vampiric sort, and find nothing.

‘Good enough for me, then.’

The dress lays before you, waiting

It is different, without any tears, and deep in its color. You pause before adorning it, turning this way and that in the looking glass before attempting to do something with your hair.

‘I look rather stunning in this. Why does he have such nice women's clothing lying about, I wonder...?’

Once complete, you decide to do something as equally nice for your host as this dress was for you.

“Breakfast! I’ll make us breakfast. Dhampirs can eat food, right…? Now, if only I could find the kitchen…”

You spy your basket by the door. Another gift from your late-night visitor.

You pick up your newly returned basket from the room’s entrance, flipping over the blanket to spy your stolen vegetables still intact.

You leave your rooms with a smile that slowly falls.

‘He said not to disturb him…perhaps I can find the kitchens myself? They must be on the first level, maybe the underground chambers, if anything. That’s how all castles are. I’d better start now if I hope to finish in time.’

You’re certain you will get lost, but you have a feeling that your host can easily find you again.

You pause, realizing something.

‘I hope I don’t find bottles of blood or something lying around…or something else’

On that sobering thought, you strap your dagger’s hilt tighter to your thigh. Alucard said you were both alone, but it couldn’t hurt to be vigilant.

You venture out and do your best to recreate the inverse of Alucard’s path to the great hall. After several turns and rerouting, you finally begin to recognize the way back to the grand hall. It takes far longer than you anticipated, and your soles begin to complain a little once you find the grand staircase.

With some exploration on the main floor, you finally come across a door leading into what appears to be a small kitchen. The floors are clean as are the pots and pans hanging from their hooks on the walls. You spy plenty of utensils, knives, and what appears to be another basin...plumbing. You will ask Alucard the name later.

You set down the basket, pleased to have reached your goal, and get to work.

“Can’t have just a vegetable scramble. He’s a literal dhampir, and I could use some protein.”

You can't find any aprons about, and so you wrap what looks to be a tablecloth around your pretty dress. No reason to ruin it with the trials of breakfast.

You hunt for eggs, meat, nuts, and anything of the protein type. After some pillaging, you are able to find all three and get to work. The eggs are small, and the meat is fox, rabbit, and fish instead of the typical villager fare of cows and pigs, but you make it work. You wash your hands and begin to carve out fillets, prep vegetables from your basket, and luck upon some spices. You search for oil, but can only find butter, and so you do your best with it.

Soon enough, the kitchen begins to fill with the scents and fumes of a bountiful breakfast. You plate the spiced eggs, the braised meat, the sautéed vegetables, and fill a pitcher with water. You think about finding the secret garden nearby once more to perhaps make juice from berries and fruits, or even preserve. Turning to the wood table, you set everything down before finding your final item.

The loaf of bread is well hidden, but not well enough. It is a little stale, but not enough to discourage. You claim it and cut it before setting it out on the table as well.

Turning to wash your hands one final time, you are unsurprised to find Alucard stalking in the doorway of the kitchen when you turn back around.

“What are you doing...?” he grouses, clearly just having recently awoken.

“Cooking us breakfast,” you sass, “you’re welcome, by the way. Oh, uh...you can eat food, right...?”

Alucard’s sleepy demeanor slowly fades as he nods, his interest growing as the smells of food clearly begin to assault him and cause wonders for his mood.

“Well?” You say, undoing the tablecloth-apron and taking a seat for yourself. “What are you waiting for? Sit with me, let’s eat!”

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ previous. ☾ next.

☾ check my blog for more imagines.

#imagine #castlevania x black!y/n #castlevania black y/n #castlevania x blackreader #castlevania x black y/n #castlevania y/n #castlevania x black!reader #castlevania black reader #castlevania x reader #castlevania imagine #alucard x black y/n #alucard x blackreader #alucard x black!reader #alucard tepes imagine #alucard imagine #adrian tepes imagine #adrian tepes #castlevania

237 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

Idk if your still looking for short requests, but I’ve really been in an Ezra mood lately and am basically dying to read more with him in it. Maybe something where he finds/meets you on a planet he’s on for one of his digs, or you get assigned to go on a dig with him? Maybe some smut because he’s been lonely and he usually works alone but having the reader so close to him frustrates the hell out of him?

(You totally don’t have to write this if you don’t wanna, but thank you for doing these! I love your writing!)

Twelve Hours To Pickup (Ezra x f!Reader)

Summary: You and Ezra have twelve hours before your shuttle picks you up. Twelve hours with nothing to do.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos), dom/sub elements but not really, lots of dirty talk, reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab. oh, also language ig. one or two spanks.

A/N: YEET this is my first ezra fic and it’s horny but here we go. We’ve been on a smut kick lately but I’m here for it! I was actually really anxious to both write and post this but here we are!

Ezra is a man of extreme amounts of willpower. He can do anything he sets his mind to. Hell, he was conscious while a teenage girl literally sawed his fucking infected arm off. When Ezra is determined, he is not to be fucked with.

That being said, being in such close proximity to you is driving him up the fucking wall.

It’s not like you’re even that close to him. You’re both wearing thick spacesuits, complete with filters and helmets to provide oxygen and keep dangerous air particles out. You’re not exactly doing the most romantic activity either: you’re harvesting aurelac. It’s a disgusting process, gooey shit covering your gloved arms. You’re both experienced prospectors, but it makes you gag every time you do it. Of course you had to be assigned to the biggest mouth in the fucking galaxy.

“What seems to be the matter, little bird?” Ezra coos, smirking. “Such an experienced woman should have no such issue with a minor impediment.”

You shoot him a glare. “Can you talk using smaller words? You sound like you ate a dictionary and you’re vomiting back up,” you snap as you wipe the gunk off your arm and start the process of removing the gem.

Ezra smiles this time. “My sincerest apologies, my gem. I simply verbalize in this manner out of habit.”

You roll your eyes and continue. “I’d hate to hear what you sound like in bed,” you shoot back.

He walks closer to you, abandoning the current rock he’s removing, surprisingly nimbly considering he only has one arm. “Is that so, little bird?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Stop calling me that and get back to your fucking work, Ezra. You still have one functioning hand, make the best of it.”

The man pouts at you, placing his hand over his heart. “My dear, you’ve wounded my wretched little heart with such a comment.”

“Could’ve said ouch and moved on. I’m not gonna kiss it better, even if I might like to,” you smirk at him, shooing him away with your hand.

The man’s face bears a salacious smirk. “What was that?” He asks.

“Wow, that was the shortest sentence I’ve ever heard you say.” You spray the gem with the liquid in the bottle. “Go do your part and maybe I’ll consider spending a little time with you later.”

Ezra bites his lower lip and stalks off back to his share.

You’re almost back at the pod. You’ve walked in silence this entire time, not daring to speak and feed the fire that’s burning between the two of you. When the pod is in sight, Ezra’s last reserve breaks, burns the wick and lights the dynamite. “Well, my dove? Has my share of the aurelac satisfied your standards?” He asks, walking next to you again.

You look over at the container. He harvested significantly more than you did, which further proves your knowledge that he’s fantastic at prospecting. It’s no surprise, you suppose, but it is intriguing. Your eyes travel from the case to his dusty brown eyes, staring back at you. You smirk, and tilt your head. “I’m not sure. Get out of that space suit first and we can see.”

He bites his lip to hold back from spouting off more words. It doesn’t work for long. “Oh, does my eloquence excite you, little bird?” He asks, walking side by side with you now.

“Don’t push it,” you laugh and climb into the pod. The two of you pass through the airlock and you finally strip your space suit off, leaving you in the jumpsuit beneath it.

Ezra does the same. One shoulder is knotted off just below where his arm was severed. His jumpsuit clings tight to his chest, which is muscular, from the sweat inside the suit. He examines you just the way you examine him.

The two of you deposit your aurelac in the corner before finding yourselves standing together. You look over at him. “When is our shuttle coming?”

He looks at the digital watch on his wrist, then back at you. “We have at least 12 hours,” he says, head tilted down but those big eyes looking up. At you.

You pretend to look off and consider something else. “We finished the harvest in record time. I wonder how we could pass the remaining hours,” you sigh, though you both know it’s teasing. You know exactly what you want.

“My dove,” Ezra breathes, a warm hand cupping your face. “I want you.”

Somehow, it’s even hotter when he doesn’t use those big words. “I want you too,” you sigh and your lips crash to his desperately. He pushes you against the wall.

It’s hot and sloppy and desperate. The man is a fantastic kisser, his lips moving perfectly in sync to yours. The pod has busted air conditioning, making it as hot as the surrounding planet, but neither of you care. There’s sweat dripping from your face and from is, and there’s a mutual understanding that that doesn’t matter now. You need each other, badly.

His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you open your mouth, allowing him in. He groans at the sensation as you rock your hips into his, desperately grinding. He pulls away for a second, his brows scrunching together in the pleasure. “Little bird,” he exhales. “Do you have the implant?”

You nod. “You?”

“But of course. Where would you prefer to be ravished, my glorious being?” He asks, lips finding the skin of your neck and sucking a mark into the tender spot behind your ear.

You cry out and fall back against the wall. “Wherever. Anywhere. Please, Ezra.”

He smacks your ass, making you yelp out even though it only increases the wetness between your thighs. “Make a decision, my dove.”

You’re panting already, and he hasn’t even done anything. “Right here. Right now. Against the wall.”

He smirks at that, nipping into your skin. “Oh, so ruttish for me,” he groans. “Desperate for me to take you.”

“Yes,” you nod, giving into his domineering attitude. “Please, please,” you cry, and he bites the collar of your jumpsuit and unzips the front, pushing it from your shoulders. Your chest is now only covered by a sports bra. You help him remove it and toss it aside, leaving just your lower half covered.

Ezra groans and feels himself harden even further as he sees your chest. “Oh, those exquisite breasts,” he groans, sinking to his knees. He forces you to bend a little as his lips find your nipple, sucking and tugging on it with his teeth. You cry out at the feeling, hands pressed to the wall, and he chuckles. His hand finds your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He bites at the skin of your breast, leaving a mark.

He goes lower. His tongue traces your stomach, dipping into your navel. He bites at your stomach too. The man likes to bite, that much is clear. He’s been surprisingly quiet since he’s put his mouth on you.

Ezra shoves down the rest of your jumpsuit and your panties, helping you step out of them before he tosses them aside. His hand firmly grips your thigh, and he kisses up the inside of the soft skin. “May I?” He asks, right before he reaches the pinnacle.

“Please,” you breathe, and he tosses one of your legs over his shoulder.

He’s skilled. That much is easily seen- or, felt- when he instantly latches onto your clit, swirling his tongue around it and sucking on it. His hand comes to your entrance, teasing it slowly with the pad of a finger. You cry out at the feeling and he takes it as your invitation to push two thick fingers inside of you.

As you bite your lip, he looks up at you and smirks. His two fingers are inside of you, and he pulls his mouth away. “Little bird, restraint is the furthest from necessary. There’s not a soul to hear those sultry noises you’re making,” he reminds you before going back to lapping at your clit masterfully.

His fingers curl against that perfect spot deep inside of you, making you cry out in ecstasy. “Ezra,” you whimper.

He smirks and hums a happy sound into you, nudging your clit with his nose as he moves his tongue lower to poke at your entrance, along with his two fingers. He’s pushing them harder and harder, and you bury a hand in his hair, the heel of your hand over his blonde patch. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, and he just goes harder.

It’s all too much. You cry out his name and grip his hair as your orgasm washes over you, making your toes curl in the boots that remain on you.

He continues steadily through your orgasm, pulling away and sucking on his own fingers once you’re finished. “The nectar of the gods between your thighs,” he murmurs to you, a content smirk on his face. “Are you going to let me destroy you against this wall, my dear?”

You shudder, nodding. “Need your cock. I bet it’s big, isn’t it?” You ask, smirking down at him and running a hand through his hair, toying with his blonde patch.

He shrugs. “Now isn’t the time to play humble, Ezra,” you laugh, removing your leg from his shoulder and pulling him up to kiss him deeply. It’s hot and sloppy again, but slower. Deeper. You moan into his lips and cup his hardened dick, which tents against his jumpsuit.

“Little bird,” he shudders.

You break away and start to unzip his flight suit. You push it off his shoulder and it hangs at his waist, exposing strong a abdomen littered with scars. “Fuck,” you chuckle happily and kiss him again. You push it the rest of the way, along with his boxers, and it exposes his dick. It is large, you were correct, long and maddeningly thick. “Oh, fuck,” you moan again as he steps out of it.

Ezra grabs your hip and turns you around, pushing you into the wall again. His large hand takes both of your wrists and pins them to the wall. “Is that resplendent pussy prepared for me?” He asks, and you nod. “Say it,” he demands, biting your shoulder.

“Fuck! Yes, yes Ezra,” you nod, spreading your stance to allow him between your legs.

“Don’t move them,” he orders you as he lets go of your hands for a moment. With his hand, he lines himself up, notching the tip with your entrance before grabbing your wrists again. “I crave those maddening noises, little bird. Don’t you dare be quiet while I’m destroying that pretty pussy.”

With that, he pushes in. He’s thick, and the stretch is delicious. “Ezra,” you cry out, loving the way the name sounds when it rolls off your tongue. “Don’t hold back, please.”

“I couldn’t if I dreamed of it, dearest,” he groans as he fully sheathes himself deep within you. “So fuckin’ tight for me,” he shudders.

Your hands struggle against his, but his strength wins. “Don’t even think about it,” he orders, gritting his teeth as he pulls fully out then pushes all the way back in. It’s quick and rough as he gets started and it doesn’t slow down.

“Harder, please,” you urge him, pushing your ass back against him.

He nods. “Anything your heart desires, little bird,” he coos and licks a hot stripe up your neck, ending behind your ear where he nips at your earlobe.

You’re helpless to his ministrations as he pounds into you, and it feels like heaven. He lets go and your hands move in front of your face to support yourself against the wall.

You need it when a second later, his thick fingers are circling your clit. You cry out and he smirks. “Good girl, little birdie. Taking me so nicely.”

The words and the feeling is becoming too much. A hot haze fills your head as you approach your orgasm, accidentally squeezing around him.

He almost cums from the sensation. “Just when I thought that pussy couldn’t get any tighter,” he laughs breathlessly. “Let go, my dear. Squeeze me tight and tell me how good I make you feel.”

You nod frantically and moments later, you finally reach your peak, crying out his name and gushing around his dick. “Fuck, so good, so big,” you whine, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

The way you flutter around him is just too much. “Good girl,” he grunts, thrusting harder and harder and slightly more sporadically. “Gonna cum inside you, my good girl, show this pussy who it belongs to.”

“All yours, Ezra,” you whimper as the feeling fades, and you can tell that he’s close.

You clench hard and he falls apart, shooting his hot seed deep inside you. “Ah, little bird,” he cries out, his legs wobbling and nearly failing to hold him up as it takes him over.

When he’s finished, he groans as he pulls out. His cum drips from you and onto your flight suit, between your legs and on the floor. The sight makes Ezra shudder, and he smacks your ass one more time for good measure. “Good girl,” he mumbles and nips your neck one more time, walking off to the refresher of the pod.

“Just going to leave me here?” You ask, laughing breathlessly, slumped into the wall. Your legs are barely strong enough to walk.

He returns moments later with a damp rag. “Of course not. I must treat you well and praise you, after you took my cock so well.”

His words make you shudder again. He can feel it as he wipes the insides of your thighs. “Little bird, aroused again already? Need me again?”

“Maybe,” you chuckle and bite the inside of your cheek.

He groans and presses a soft kiss to the apex of your inner thigh. “Later. We do have twelve more hours, after all.”

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #ezra prospect headcanons #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #prospect

97 notes · View notes

rwbyvein · 2 years

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 1004: Atlas (suite): Part II / III

The airship pulled into the dock. The rear gangway opened up, and everyone obliged Jaune's desire to get off first. "Thanks guys." Jaune said as she stepped out, enjoying the glorious headroom. His eyes focused on a man in the suit. As he walked down the gangway he realized just how short he was. "Klein?" Jaune asked. Weiss eagerly appeared beside him, Aurora smiling brilliantly behind them.

"Mr. Arc?" Klein asked, and Jaune held up his hand.

"I have more than enough people... and other things... calling me mister." Jaune replied, "Call me Jaune."

Klein's eyes turned red before turning black. Lastly they turned blue. "I'm afraid I cannot call her fiancé by his first name."

"But, I am afraid," Weiss said as she stepped down the gangway, "I am of majority and you are no longer my servant."

"But, miss?" Klein asked.

"I doubt they could afford to pay your salary." Aurora said with a bright smile as she stepped down behind her mistress.

"Lucky for me I had a great deal of leave saved up." Klein stated. "And I intend to spend it making sure you've settled in. If you'll let me."

"I'm afraid not." Weiss said with a brilliant, light blue glow, and even more brilliant smile. She stepped down the gangway. "You will be our guest, and I will hear nothing more of it."

Klein's eyes changed to yellow, and he developed a brilliant smile. "It's good to see that a relationship hasn't dulled you fire, miss."

"Weiss." she simply stated.

His eyes turned to blue. "W... Weiss."

"Your turn." Jaune said to Weiss.

"Klein." she said with glee.

"Um?" Ruby asked.

"Oh!" Weiss exclaimed, "I'm so sorry. This is my... co-wife. Ruby Rose."

"Ms. Rose?" Klein asked.

"Oh, um, your, um, butler-ness?" Ruby asked, and Weiss gave her a judgemental smile. "What?" Ruby asked, "This is my first time meeting a butler?"

"And Aurora?" Penthesilea asked.

"Oh, pssht." Ruby replied as she turned to look at her, "Wait, what?"

"As I said," Aurora added, "a personal assistant to, whom was at the time an heiress, is akin to a butler."

"You're a butler?" Ruby asked. "Wait, you do bake me cookies? And make really good tea. But you're also a banker?"

"She is good a good many things." Penthesilea stated, "Like our dear co-wife." Ruby followed her gaze and saw Weiss.

"Oh?" Ruby asked, "Duh."

"Your smiling gazes feel enthralling." Weiss said with glee. "Like they are burning a hole in me."

"Apropos for a Snow Angel." Ciel neutrally added.

"Ah." Weiss gently exclaimed, "This is Penthesilea Polendina and Ciel Soleil."

"Hello, again." Penthesilea stated.

"Greetings." Ciel neutrally stated.

"And this is..." Weiss continued.

"Jaune Arc." Klein simply stated, and Weiss looked at him with surprise. "You spent enough time speaking of him to make his presence unmistakable." His eyes turned green, "As you might have guessed, I am Klein Sieben, former butler to the Schnee Mansion."

"What are you doing here?" Ruby asked.

"For helping the young lady, Jacques Schnee pushed my contract to the point of breaking, but I will not yield."

"No, I mean here." Ruby said, gesturing to the floor.

"In the miliary docks?" Penthesilea asked.

"We are in a public sector." Ciel simply stated.

"A what?" Ruby asked.

"How does the military get supplies?" Weiss asked her.

"I don't know?" Ruby asked, and Weiss sighed.

"Despite giving the miltiary a priority," Ciel interjected, "there are a large section of the military docks accessible to the general public."

"Hence why we had to go through the checkpoint." Weiss stated.

"I thought that was just because it was super secret?" Ruby asked.

"There are checkpoints." Ciel affirmed.

"We're going to go and..." Ruby voiced, and paused for a moment, "We probably can't tell him, can we?"

"And I am afraid I have promised to stay safely in the military's embrace." Aurora voiced.

"I am not as young as I used to be." Klein replied.

"Posh." Weiss admonished.

"I am on leave." Klein stated, "I could use some rest."

"So?" Ruby asked, "Like a vacation?"

"Oh, yes." Klein stated.

Penthesilea stepped forward, looming over Ruby and Weiss, "Perhaps we should move out of the gangway."

"Some of us actually have things to do." Taj said from behind them. Ruby Petal Burst out of the way, Weiss stepped down the gangway, and Jaune jumped down.

* * *

RW + PC + JI walked down the corridor and up to the checkpoint. "Doctor Polendina is waiting for you in the first research laboratory. Take a left up ahead, and then take the second left. Please - don't - wander - around."

"Of course." Jaune said, and turned to Weiss.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"We need your Weissy-ness." Ruby said to her. Weiss simply looked back at her a moment before nodding.

* * *

Jaune and Ruby nearly walked passed the door as Weiss cleared her throat. They looked back at her before following her gaze to a door labeled '1st Research Laboratory'. Jaune stepped foward and opened the doors. He stood aside to let everyone walk in.

The moment she was in the door, Penthesilea rushed over to embrace her father. The two pulled apart and he looked up at her, "It's good to see you."

"And you, as well, father."

"Are those horses?" Ilia asked, and found Jaune's hand on her shoulder. He leaned down to gently but emphatically whisper into her ear, "Let's give them a moment." Her red false-gloves and stockings turned black, as she nervously looked around. "Easy." he soothingly whispered, and her gloves and stockings adopted her now usual red.

"You've really come out into your own?" Pietro asked her in awe.

"Thank you, father. I have had a startling discovery."

Pietro turned towards the others, "Come in, come in. Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"The offer is acknowledged." Ciel stated, "But our standards for coffee have improved quite a bit recently."

"Weiss spoiled them." Penthesilea said to her father. "She makes exceptionally good coffee."

Weiss was looking around nervously with a light blue flush.

"Aurora makes the tea!" Ruby exclaimed.

Weiss snapped to attention, "She does." she affirmed.

"Well, we can sit down." Pietro said, and pointed at 3 couches. The group walked over, with everyone but Jaune sitting down. Pietro turned to Penthesilea, "So, tell me, what happened?"

Ruby stood up, raising her arms triumphantly, "The Truth!"

"The Relic of Knowledge." Penthesilea stated, and Pietro tried his best to not be shocked by this revelation. "One of the Four Relics, the gifts of the Brothers?"

"One that can only be used 3 times every hundred years." Jaune stated.

"And you used it for?.." Pietro asked, "I mean, Penthesilea is?.." He paused and took a deep breath. "You simply just..."

"Ren wanted to." Jaune dismissively said.

"And that is all it took?" Pietro asked.

"Trust." Ilia voiced. "They trust each other to a ridiculous degree."

"Hmm." Jaune disapprovingly uttered, and Ilia looked at him nervously.

"You excluded yourself." Weiss said to her.

Ilia returned to her natural colouration and breathed in deeply. She recoloured herself and nervously looked down. "We." she voiced.

"Much better." Weiss stated.

"Ren asked what happened to their fallen comrad." Penthesilea stated, and Pietro leaned in, looking at her eagerly, "Pyrrha Nikos. Due to the circumstances involved."

"You probably know what we are talking about." Jaune stated, as the information poured through Pietro's head.

"The Aura... bound together?" Pietro asked, "I always hated the idea of that."

"Because of it..." Penthesilea voiced, "I... we... I was not allowed to... go where the dead normally go. I- was given a choice."

"And you chose?" Pietro asked.

"To be with my friends." Penthesilea stated, "It was the only thing I truly wanted, at least to see them happy."

"And that is why you wanted to leave so quickly?" Pietro asked, "You wanted to be with your friends? Truly heartwarming."

There was a pregnant pause before Weiss spoke up, "Though, that is only the start of the story."

Pietro looked at Penthesilea with bated breath, "We're married!" Penthesilea exclaimed.

"At least as married as the rest of us." Weiss stated.

"Everyone other than Weiss." Ciel stated.

"So, at the wedding?.." Pietro asked.

"I will officially be a bridesmaid." Penthesilea said with glee.

"I'm so happy for you." Pietro stated, nearly overwhelmed by the emotions. He wiped tears from his eyes, and looked up to see tears in hers.

Weiss wrapped her arm around Ruby. Ilia leaned back, feeling warm. Jaune's moist eyes moved over to the mechanical horses behind them.

"Ah, yes?" Pietro asked. He wiped his eyes and struggled to his feet. Penthesilea rushed over to help him to his feet. He looked at her sweetly, "Thank you." He then turned to the mechanical horses. "We were working on making the Knights better on rough terrain. It occured to us that this would be easier to do with four legs. The initial model was more akin to a dog, but then we built the Cheval Knights.

Ruby raised her hand, "Can we see the dog?"

"It is not actually a dog, though we are working on them." Pietro replied.

"Can we see them then?" Ruby asked, and Pietro developed a bright smile.

"When they are complete?" Weiss asked.

"Of course." he said, and looked back to the Cheval Knights. "The basic model is the Destrier."

"And for those of us who don't speak horse?" Ruby asked.

"A knight's charger." Jaune voiced.

"Yes." Pietro stated, "They are each as strong as a truck, but can cross rough terrain."

"And the other models?" Ciel asked.

"We tried different forms, and different Dust." Pietro stated. "The simplest one is the Kelpie, it uses Ice Dust in it's hooves to run across water. We developed the Unicorn that uses it's horn to manipulate Gravity Dust, it also has Baronet level intelligence."

"It's smarter?" Ruby asked, while Weiss looked enthralled at the elegant, somewhat goatlike form.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #arc-en-ciel

6 notes · View notes

impaladolan · 3 years

Text

Capture - Grayson Dolan [8/-]

summary: y/n is quick to plot revenge.. but does she get away with it..?

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and smut :)

a/n: i seriously love you

Anonymous said:

Ooohoohohoh I’m excited for her to steal his Rolex haha omg maybe she wears it and doesn’t give him it back when he asks for it OMG u know what would be cute!! if one day she goes snooping in his bedroom and tries on his chain necklace n rings and he walks out the shower n he’s like ummmm ok ily

Anonymous said:

i want y/n to ride gray’s thigh in his office, like he’s just got in still fully in his suite w his gun on his belt and she just walks in and strips 👀👀

Anonymous said:

I have an idea hehe!! WhYi f y/n gets drunk like she f inds alcohol in graysons office or kitchen or something and shes being really bratty but it’s so cute and she’s giving him nose kissies and hugging up and telling him stuff and he’s just listening and loving her

Relaxation.

That's how you'd explain the certain state of euphoria I'm embezzled within. Young love is a treacherous trap that can either end in favor, or be torn to shreds in only mere moments. To feel so passionate and fervently invested in someone you've only ever known and loved is such a thrill, and you could never forget those memories embedded in your mind.

Like right now, laying in bed while the sun's first shine leaks through the window and gleams down upon the two of us, nuzzled under the covers. His leg was wrapped over mine and his arms hung loosely around my hips, sheltering me from ever possibly leaving his grasp. I was the first to wake, but I dared not to move an inch.

The world around me was motionless, so peaceful and calm. Nothing could bother or disrupt the atmosphere around me. Everything felt so perfect, embraced by the one I love and the man I admire. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever unsettle me in this moment.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself...

A darkness warped over my newly sunken eyes, shielding the world around me. I called out his name, but nothing came out. The warmth I once felt upon my body, vanished into the air and seemed like it'd never return. The world became cold and useless, all the positivity and tranquility that once surrounded me was blown away and now, I sit in darkness;

All by myself.

Him.

It seemed too early in the morning to be awake at such an hour, but you had crashed shortly after making it back to your room last night. You were so mortified and embarrassed, for all those men to see you so vulnerable and being punished. Though, the crazy inside you kind of liked it, but still, it pushed boundaries.

Initially, you had wanted to sleep in all day, and hopefully never leave your room ever again. Although, today's forecast decided otherwise. A ground shaking rumble of thunder made you awaken and the shoestring lighting bolts strung across the darkened sky had drawn you in. Since you essentially have no concept of time, whatsoever, you had to believe it was early in the morning, unless you really had slept in all day...

It's been presumably an hour or so since you first fluttered your eyes open. By now, you had plotted a sickening revenge to his outrageous acts he had committed only a day ago. Of course, you had created horribly ill plans that even you could never pull off. Such as vandalizing his expensive vehicles or even trashing the entire house. You had even gone as far as to planning an "accidental" fire in the kitchen.

But something inside you had put a halt to those thoughts.

Other than not wanting to be known as a malicious arsonist, you had some sort of pull towards him— but what that pull was, you couldn't figure out. The phrase; " Darling, I may be a stranger to you, but you're no stranger to me," has been left in your mind ever since the words first left his mouth. You couldn't possibly help but wonder what that even meant. You felt like you've known him from a past life somehow, and that could potentially explain the affection you have towards him. All of that aside, you have to remember that he isn't who your brain morphs him in to be. He's a felon who's abducted you and has pulled you away from society and everything you've ever been a part of.

For some reason, that's hard for you to mentally consider.

Aside from criminalizing yourself too by creating a fire or becoming a vandalizer, the best option is to state your assertiveness and trespass the "laws" that he has forbidden you ro break. Unlike yesterday's escapades of you ruining the dining room table, today you were up for higher anticipated endeavours. You had it all planned out and you knew what you'd do in order to complete your vengeances.

And he's not going to be very happy...

The atmosphere above and around you still rumbles with the loud, crackling thunder and the strikes of lightning flooding certain increments of light through the surrounding windows pave your path to the daunting door. You were still dressed in the white shirt that could barely pass as acceptable in the public eye, and your feet were frozen at the first touch of the wooden floor. You kept on like you have done in the previous times you have left your room for mischievous reasons. You silently open the door, leaving it wide open as you crept out of your assigned room and into the hallway. You knew that the very first place you would go would be the kitchen. No, you aren't creating a fire or any of the sort, but you were going to raid the fridge and have your fill with what it has to offer.

You walk straight past the opening and right into the glorious establishment of cookware, like it was your very own home and you were just up for a midnight snack. In all honesty, you could get used to living here.

If only it weren't forced onto you, that is.

Your fingertips soon collide with the long, frigid handle of the refrigerator door and pull it wide open, marveling at the large display of different beverages and foods strategically set up. Of course, it was mainly veggies and several healthy-looking meal options. Which didn't surprise you whatsoever.

He has a nice physique for a reason...

You couldn't find anything that made your stomach growl with hunger, until you opened up the freezer drawer and spotted a nice looking ice cream container. Still, it looked healthy and it'd make you all the more frozen, but it would manage to subside your aching sweet tooth for now. You pop open the lid and fish around the drawers for a utensil. With a content sigh, you plunge a huge spoonful of the solid liquid and empty it into your mouth, savoring every last flavor like it would be the last time you'd ever eat the sugary treat again. It was delicious, the absolute best ice cream you've ever devoured in the entirety of your life.

You almost ate half the jar until you decided you were parched and needed a nice drink to soothe your throat. Luckily this time you were familiar with where the glasses were kept and already had your hand wrapped around a large wine glass that was a little bit higher up than the rest of the glassware. You set it down quietly, trailing your eyes upon the clean and prim counter.

A tall, fancy upscale bottle of what looked to be whiskey was settled in the corner, nicely organized with the other alcoholic beverages that were of the same importance.

Now, you weren't exactly a "drink-whiskey-out-of-a-wine-glass" type of gal, but as they say; desperate times call for desperate measures— and you were on the search of something to loosen you up a bit, and that was that.

You brought the glass over to where you had stationed your cup, not even flinching when you uncork the liquor and pour its contents out. With improper proportioning of the said liquid, you put the whiskey back how it was.

"Fuck, here we go." You inaudibly groan to yourself, just knowing that you'll regret every decision you've made in the near future. Raising up the plum-full glass, you tip it back into your mouth and down a whole gulp.

Nasty.

It's definitely an acquired taste, but the barely detectable taste of vanilla made it hardly feasible. You dared to not put the glass down until you were finished with it and had that sour taste submitted through your fiery throat.

The least you could say was that it's pretty smooth, but not something you'd drink in your free time.

In your head, you knew you'd feel a bit wonky, considering your nearly empty stomach and your abstinence from alcohol for the last month or so. It'd be easy to feel the side effects and overall feel much better, like you were aiming for.

Once you drained the glass of every last drop, you held your breath and rushed to the sink. The overwhelming want to just regurgitate what you ingested had drawn upon you, but you refrained from doing so. Waiting out the sickly feeling, you run a bit of cold water over your hand and press it against your forehead for a moment. Everything became hot, even with the freezing temperatures, you felt like breaking a sweat.

All just the side effects of alcohol, I'm sure.

Within the passing minutes, the faintness flew away and the sounds of the thunderstorm filled your ears. A large banging of the clouds above frightened you and you knocked over the glass you had just rested your lips on.

You didn't even feel bad about all the shattered pieces on the floor, it actually brought a smile to your face and you were ready to begin the fully planned extravaganza.

First stop; his room.

You skipped back the hallway, still quiet but not as careful as before. You weren't afraid of any consequences and whatever he was going to do to you wouldn't be too harsh. It's not like he's embarrassed you enough already anyway.

You easily find his door, pushing the handle down as slow as possible, just in case he was asleep in his room. His door didn't creak as you opened it, and nor did his floorboards as you walked straight into his marvelous bedroom. It was extravagant, but yet it still felt homely. You check the bed, no sign of him or anyone for the matter. He probably at a meeting, or something.

Not that you care..

You continue your stroll, glancing around his room for anything that could spark your immediate attention, considerably his desk. It held a lot of his more—fashionably inclined belongings. Such as his masculine jewelry and expensive watches. There was even a small, purple ring that reminded you of something you had worn a long time ago. You brush that off, it brings up sore wounds from a time where you were a lot happier and everything was simpler.

I wish I could say that now..

You began to pick up the neatly placed objects, slipping a couple of heavy necklaces around your neck and the large rings upon your fingers. You laugh at the size difference of your hand and how they barely stay on your fingers.

The stationary mirror attached to the desk caught your eyes, and you begin to make funny faces at it. Which sends you into a hushed giggle fest that makes you double over in your seat. Still caught up in your laughter, you take off all of the rings, just leaving a couple on the desk and tossing a few over to his bed. You do the same with the necklaces, except for the two that you threw into one of the drawers.

That’s when your eyes caught the nice watches, stuffed in clear pouches with the brand labeled across them. Rolex is the first you saw, and the first one you picked up. You weren’t thinking clearly. Hence the reason you tore it out of it’s protective packaging and brought it up above your head, throwing it down to the ground and watching the tiny glass fragments splatter everywhere.

It’s not like he can’t buy a new one, right?

Feeling content and a little less frustrated, you left the messy scene and followed your footsteps back into the hallway. He didn't seem to hear you, so the determination to find out his name came across your mind and you became dead set on finding it, so you basically sprinted into his ominous office and delved into his comfy chair without care.

Your motor skills were altered and it seemed to take for ever to lift yourself out of the chair and tap on the computer keyboard for it to wake up. While it began its process of turning on, you led your hand down to the drawers and pulled at them. And that’s when you found the very first locked up thing in this house.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing in here darling?” His alluring voice blasted through your ears and made you leap upward. “It’s not been a day and you’re already back to being a brat?” You couldn’t see what he looked like, but his silhouette looked suited and enticing.

Very enticing, actually...

“M’trying to find out your name, Daddy.” You spoke before you could think, crossing your arms over your chest while your lips form a pout. His body leaves from the doorway, and you’re barely able to see him as he strides over towards you. Suddenly, a light flips on and you’re met with his beautiful frame, a smile daunting his face as he looks down at your innocence.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He moves closer, wrapping his hand under your chin while his other has his blazer hung on his finger and thrown towards his back. He looks cute in a smile, until it forms into a confused frown.

“Have you been drinking, Y/N?” Your eyes widen and you quickly nod. You knew you’d be in trouble with him anyway, so might as well be honest now. “I c-couldn’t sleep and I- I just wanted a sip of somethin’.” You shrug, looking downward as you give him an okayish explanation.

“You know what helps me sleep?” He lets your chin go, dropping his jacket and beginning to roll up his dress-shirt’s sleeves. You shake your head, chewing your bottom lip as you take in his appearance. “A nice cocksucking does.” Thunder crackles loudly outside as his husky voice deepens and makes a cool wind run down your spine.

“Then let me help you..” You wrap your arms around his neck, twisting him around and forcefully pushing him down in the chair you were once sitting in. You were about to fall to your knees to “help” him, but he pulls your hips towards him and sets you on his lap. You replace your hands around his neck, sinking your fingertips into his hair and massaging the silky softness of it. He sweetly sighs, readjusting the leg you were sat upon.

And that’s when you feel the sensation you’ve been craving for however long you’ve been here.. you think..

“M’hm, do that again..” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He actually obliges, his brows furrowed as he watches your face contort. “Like riding my thigh, huh?” He asks as he placed his large hands around your waist. You nod, moving your hips in the same direction. You eyes shut, your head falling back a little as you smoothly move against his muscled thigh.

It felt so good, everything felt so good actually. He somehow looked so much more attractive, the beard dotting his face and his hair styled nicely. Even what he was wearing had you wanting more.

You open your eyes for a moment, watching his pleased expression as he watches you needingly thrust yourself upon his warm, clothed thigh. He even steadily lifted his knee in the correct places, aiding in the pleasure that him alone could bring you. Your eyesight seemed foggy but visible enough to see the gun at his waist side, and you almost froze when you saw it. Even in your intoxicated state of mind, you knew that just the weapon could possibly help you escape and make it back to your own home.

You didn't think it through thoroughly..

You lean in, your lips next to his ear as you practically collapse upon him, though your movements to further yourself towards releasing didn't halt. You slipped your left hand down to his waist band, sensually gliding it over his tented groin. He shutters under your touch, clearing his throat as his heads falls back slightly. As quick as your body would let you, you grab for the handle of the gun and raise it up towards his forehead, stopping all your movements and gaining his attention.

"Y/N—" He starts, gliding his hands up your bare thighs.

"Don't fucking move, or I'll— I'll shoot you." You sounded clear as day in your head, but your words became slurred as they left your mouth, and he smirked at your innocence. Just as quickly as you pulled the gun, he took it away.

He grabbed the barrel and snatched it from your grip, placing it back into its holster at his side. You yelp as he grabs your wrists, twisting them around your back and slamming you into the table with an evil chuckle. "Better keep those hands pretty little hands to yourself, princess. You're too innocent to commit murder anyway." He continues his hoarse chuckles, licking a stripe up his hand before striking your slick pussy. "D-Ahh!" You hiccup, pressing your legs as close together as you can.

“Better fuckin’ pray that you can walk tomorrow, darling...”

to be continued...

61 notes · View notes

ahsokasanity · 3 years

Text

Chapter Eight

A Court of Shadow and Ribbons Missed any Chapters? Go to the pinned post

Notes:

– With credit to song words (only slightly messed with) Melissa Etheridge “Do It Again”

Nessian mating ceremony.

Idisi comes from Nordic mythology around the Valkyries – ours didn’t want to be a replica of the original female warriors, but something new and their own.

Apologies if you’re fitting this in during lunch break (@TrashForAzriel !) It’s a bit longer than normal

Nesta was not nervous on the day. She was already so entwined emotionally with Cassian that it actually seemed a natural progression to confess it in front of a few important friends and family. Some of the training group would be at the service, some could not make the step from the House of Wind to Velaris proper. They had tentatively begun to call themselves Idisi – the name itself made them more a part of the Valkyrie mythology, Nesta grinned to herself as she remembered Gwyn coming to them with the idea “Well, we can’t just keep calling ourselves the training group or Cassian’s defenders.” Although Nesta quite liked the second.

Nesta had stayed at The River House overnight and Cassian, Azriel and Rhys were to fly as many from the library as they could. Mor was going to Windhaven to collect Emerie who would stay the night in Velaris. All of them might end up out on the town. Nesta was wishing for, and dreading that night as the first she would take as Cassian’s mate and the first time she would return to the nightclubs and drinking bars that she had frequented before her recovery. With Cassian by her side, she knew it would be a fun night. The House of Wind had been entitled to them and tonight she would host her friends. The House had promised to care for them all if Nesta was occupied once they got home.

Gwyn had agreed to sing but she was nervous about leaving the library. The last time she did was to support Nesta and they had ended up abducted. She knew the circumstances were entirely different and the River House was so very safe, but it did not stop the butterflies swarming in her gut or the slight vibrato when she did try to speak at breakfast. She’d put on her best prayers robe. It was a pale blue and pleated around the neck to be fastened at the waist with a gold thin rope. He feet were shod in thick leather slippers that would protect her while travelling and walking in the garden.

There were just five of them to attend from the priestesses and being that Azriel and Rhys could winnow, they took Margot, Lorelei, Deirdre and Roslin. Cassian was grinning at Gwyn. “I think that the first Idisi to cut the ribbon with her sword should have no problem getting a ride to MY mating ceremony with her best friend’s mate?”

Gwyn laughed a nervous laugh and pursed her lips. “No, you wouldn’t think so would you” She stepped toward him and stood at his side, offering her arm for him to take. Cassian wrapped one arm around her waist and took her forearm with his other hand. “I’ll hold you and I promise I will not let you fall”

She nodded but closed her eyes. The hand around her hip was firm not punishing and his other hand was gentle on her arm. She told herself over and over. It’s OK, this is Cassian, it’s OK”

“No harm will come to you” Cassian had sensed her thoughts and she tried to look up at him, to give permission for this flight. He grinned down at her

“Don’t have too much fun will you” and launched off the training area into the bright summer sky. Gwyn screeched, not in a scared way she surprised herself, but with exhilaration. Cassian merely flapped harder to get into the slip stream heading up the face of the cliff from the city. As they got into that rising warm air he extended his wings to their widest (Gwyn remembered something that Nesta had told her that night in the library of the House of Wind, about Illyrians wing spans), but she shut down that thought as they began spiralling down, down, so smooth, so free.

The feeling was immense. She had shut herself out of this world for years now and could suddenly see what she might be missing. Yes, High Fae, Illyrians and half breeds like her, could all be cruel to each other. There was also this, flying (she was flying for the Mother’s sake) and heading to a celebration of love of togetherness and she loved her friends. She felt wonderful and alive and impatient to enjoy more.

The garden and lawn of the River House (it should be called the River Palace she thought), looked picture perfect today. Elain had worked hard on getting the flowers to bloom, in the right colour order to suit where Nesta would stand. Rhys had spared no expense in the set up of a pavilion and chairs, with a spread of food for all, once Cassian and Nesta had officially Mated.

Cassian could sense her excitement and a change in her scent from flat out petrified to wonder and a happy nervousness. One more thing that he could do to make her comfortable was to set her down where Mor and Emerie were talking at the outskirts of the party.

“Thank you Cassian” Gwyn stood on her tip toes to peck him on the cheek. “I did not know that it would be like that, so free. I can’t really explain it”

Cassian merely shrugged and replied “You don’t have to. I am glad that you are here, and that Nesta doesn’t have to attempt murder because I scared her friend!” He winked and headed off to Rhys and Azriel who were clucking over baby Nyx.

“Gwynie, oh wow, you are so lucky. How was the flight? It looked so glorious today and you took the slow way down. Oh, I am so jealous” Emerie was at her side and Mor a step behind.

“It’s nice to see you Gwyn” Mor intoned. There was more to that statement than your average greeting. It’s nice to see Gwyn in Velaris, it’s nice to see Gwyn outside the protection of the library. The first time that Mor had met Gwyn, she had just been repeatedly raped and her world was imploding. Mor here, in the sun on this grassy expanse of the river flat was a beautiful sight. Her words were a balm and Gwyn just nodded.

“It is so nice to see you again” she replied, again meaning a lot more than pure greeting.

Emerie took Gwyn’s arm but steered her close to Mor as they seemed to be in the middle of something “Just stay here until you have to sing will you Gwyn?” her friend insisted “I’ll get you a drink and we can applaud from here!”

Mor laughed at that and the two of them returned to talk of fabrics and colours and what Emerie sold in her shop and what Mor wanted to show her from Vallahan that was “like a second skin that shows every curve and highlights every asset” Whatever that meant. Emerie was immersed in the conversation and brought Gwyn in on it every now and then to suggest a colour for her or to ask her opinion. Gwyn was happily edging the topics as she was having more fun watching the others, Cassian being teased by his “brothers”, Feyre taking Nyx away from them before Rhys threw the boy high enough he’d have to learn to fly to get back, and Elain talking with some others whom Gwyn did not recognise. An auburn haired Fae with a mechanical eye. One of the sons of the Autumn Court by the looks. She remembered that Nesta did not like him much but that Feyre and he were on good terms. Elain seemed very quiet. Gwyn understood her shyness.

Emerie whispered to Gwyn “The red headed male is Lucien, Elain’s mate” she just nodded her head and looked their way. There was no explanation necessary, the relationship apparent. That mating was not the happy affair that Nesta and Cassian were celebrating. Elain looked a little more alive when Azriel joined their group, but Az stayed by Lucien’s side and spoke politely to all before moving to seat people around the central point of the yard, an altar and a table.

Gwyn was not at all present, she realised. The small tension of singing while Cassian and Nesta would be preparing and eating food together had been overtaken by the large stressor of being surrounded by people that she did not know. She found a place backing on to a heavily thorned rose bush bursting with red flowers. She felt better having her back protected. Little tremors shot up her spine and across her skin every few minutes and she held one hand in the other so that she could hold herself still. Deep breathing was the only thought that she had, her singing voice would not appreciate having no wind. Emerie touched her arm every now and then, but she was engrossed in the service and in leaning in to Mor’s side to whisper comments.

Gwyn found Emerie leading her toward the centre of the gathering and realised that she had better be ready to perform. A few strong breaths down into her stomach and she found her place, Nesta smiled through some tears as she moved aside to the table with food, Cassian so pleased, the look on his face many of them had never seen before.

Gwyn tried to look over the small crowd, but her gaze snagged on the darkness in one corner. Azriel. He gave her an encouraging nod and she was able to start

The song had originally been a nightclub hit, Nesta had played it for her on the Synphonia. Gwyn had tweaked it a little bit to be more soulful. More like a prayer.

Walked your fire I got a little bit burnt

Hold on tight cause I, I never did learn

You were the one they tried to warn me about

I jumped into your ocean knowing I could never get out

Oh darling it hurts, hurts to be in love

Oh darling it hurts but I do it just because

I walk straight through your mountain

Crawl right under your sea

And if you do not know it by now

You're the only one who does this to me

But I’d do it again

Yes I'd do it again

Even when I'm tired and my feelings are hurt

Never lost desire only made things worse

I hope I'm holding out for something good

Cause we're that combination yeah we're the kind that could

Oh darling it hurts, hurts to be in love

Oh darling it hurts but I do it just because

I walk straight through your mountain

Crawl right under your sea

And if you don't know, know it by now

You're the only one who does this to me

But I'd do it again

She looked up to see Cassian kissing Nesta passionately and smiled to herself. Only to become more self aware as people started to approach her with congratulations and it was hell.

Emerie was making her way to help, with Mor at her side, but Azriel and his shadows dispersed the few gushing admirers with excuses and subtle manoeuvring to suddenly be next to her. He lightly took her arm and guided her into the house and to the summer parlour by the kitchen. He sat her down on the nearest armchair and stepped back toward the door. “Wait Azriel, please” She was surprised to hear her own voice in such a clear request.

Azriel simply turned and stopped. He did not want to be closer to this woman than he already was. She was so beautiful and her singing always seemed to open a door to his emotions. He could not hear her without remembering old forgotten feelings of being held by his mother, of being full, not the furtive being that he had become. It was undoing his resolve, his very footing on the earth.

Gwyn composed herself and looked straight at Az. “Thank you for helping me out of that situation. I didn’t want to be with so many people, but I don’t want to be alone either.”

It took three steps for Azriel to be seated next to her and looking around the room, not at her. He looked at her all of the time. He couldn’t do it now. His chest was thundering. Do not ruin this Az, he thought savagely. This woman has been through hell. Do not overstep

“I have to tell you something Gwyn” he knew once he started he would have to finish this. “I have noticed you wearing a chain at training…”

“Oh well, it’s OK if I shouldn’t wear it, it’s nothing much”

Az swallowed his next words and re-thought where he was going with this. “Really, it’s nothing much?”

Gwyn blushed a little. “Well, I do really like it but it was an anonymous gift and I probably will never know who gave it to me, it shouldn’t be important to me”

Azriel decided then to struggle on. This could not stand. “It was me”

The room was silent. Gwyn’s face went through about fifteen expressions while he watched and waited. She looked sad then like she would yell at him, then pensive, finally she looked at him and spoke. “Why?”

“You are not going to like this, but I am going to tell you the absolute truth. That is all I can promise you” Azriel got out of the chair and started to walk this way and that about the room.

“I bought the jewel and the chain for Elain before Winter Solstice, I know that sounds bad, but please listen” Gwyn was discomforted but not scared. Azriel having feelings for her would be more scary.

“Rhys made me understand that any relationship outside of her being a sister to me was off the table. So Elain and I talked and she is my sister now. She will be making changes and I will support her decisions, but we will not be together”

Gwyn was struck dumb as to how she would feature in this story. How she became a part of this story.

Azriel could tell he was losing her. “After that night when you were training in the dark” She did smile at that “I wanted to give you something that was just appreciative of you”

“Do you think that Elain will see this and be upset?” Gwyn took the rose out of her top and it caught the sun. Azriel held himself together at the sight of Gwyn seated before him, rose between the thumb and forefinger and an absolute innocent look on her face.

“I, well, I hadn’t thought of that” he shifted to the far wall of the room and looked out over the gathering and smiled at his brother being fed bread by Nesta and laughing with less worry than he had even seen. He didn’t notice Gwyn had got up from her chair and approached him. When he turned back to her she was under his nose and he stepped back hurriedly

She had never felt threatened by Azriel, never nervous in his presence, but his closeness, his casual demeanour. He was not her trainer today. She held out the chain with the rose dangling and handed it to him.

“I think that it was a lovely gesture Azriel”, she liked the sound of his name and wanted to say it more, to moan it. “But, I think that you should take it back. Keep it until you can tell Elain that you found someone that you really want to see wearing it forever.” Azriel held out his hand and accepted the chain, quickly pocketing it with shame written across his downturned face at her words.

“Thank you, for thinking of Elain Gwyn. Five hundred years is not enough time apparently to turn me into a thoughtful male”

Gwyn could not bear the tone of his voice or the hunch of his shoulders. This was not Azriel on the back foot, this was him retreating. She knew the feeling. The self-loathing, the depression. It was not something that she wanted for him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t think that you are not every bit as noble as the best males in Velaris. You are thoughtful and you are kind. Think of all of our friends, our Idisi who are starting to feel, whole again.” She touched his cheek with a shaking hand “Think of me Azriel. I would be dead, and without the training I would be close enough to dead that there is little difference”

His eyes found hers but she stepped back away from him, hand still in the air between them.

“Azriel, would you walk with me in the garden?” She raised her elbow for him to take it, prayed that he would take it. He hesitated only a moment before sliding his arm through hers and they left the parlour then the house.

The party was getting properly started now, Cassian and Nesta had left, but that was no big deal, they would resurface later in the evening and it was the guest’s responsibility to eat, drink and enjoy themselves. It was being accomplished. Mor and Emerie were talking, heads close together by the edge of the crowd. Gwyn saw Elain speaking with Lucien in the company of Feyre and Nyx. That baby certainly garnered attention. Some of the priestess’ saw Gwyn with Azriel and waved them over.

They spoke for a little while, but the overall impression was that they were generally ready to leave. Lorelei and Deirdre had enjoyed perhaps a smidge too much strawberry wine and were giggly enough for the others to worry about their choices over the next few hours. The others had felt pleased and proud to be at the ceremony, but the ongoing music, drinking and laughing was not what they wanted for their first trip out from the library in an age. Azriel went to speak to Rhys, leaving Gwyn with the others with a smile and a nod that he would arrange transport for them.

Emerie found them and spoke to Gwyn “I think I’m going to stay here”, she nodded to Mor. “She has invited me to go out to Velaris to a night Club! I think I’m going to like it. Mor said she’d take me to the House of Wind to the guest suite whenever I wanted to leave.” Emerie’s cheek flushed as she said “I can’t believe she’s here talking to me,…. I really like her” the last quietly and aimed only for Gwyn

“That’s great Em, you seem comfortable today, you look; yourself” Gwyn had noticed the calm stance and the open face while Emerie talked with Mor. She was really at home here.

“I feel amazing Gwynie, not like anything I’ve ever felt before. Free and happy and maybe,…excited” She hugged Gwyn. “Do you want me to ask Mor to winnow you home?, you look tired. Oh, where’s your chain?”

Gwyn looked slightly unsettled “Can I tell you about that later? , it’s alright though” She smiled to show Emerie that she was really fine with the loss and added “Would it be silly of me to ask, could I suggest that Mor help with Deirdre and Lorelei and the others? I’d like to speak to Azriel”

Emerie noted the confidence in Gwyn’s request and the lift of her head. She was sure about this.

“OK, sure. I’ll see what I can do” Emerie squeezed Gwyn’s hand then turned to Mor who was speaking with Lucien now.

Gwyn focused on the rose bushes and wandered around the edge of the revellers. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk to Azriel about, but she couldn’t leave him tonight without another word. She wanted to make sure that he was good. That he knew she was a friend. She was happy with her decision to give up the necklace. Even though the thought that it had been from Azriel was thrilling and scary all at once. She had now made a plan that he would find in the future, a need to gift it back to her with emotions attached. She didn’t know why that thought had occurred to her. It was something she could not have imagined before today.

Azriel approached her as if summoned. He was looking down and around, anywhere but her face, so she lifted her hand for him to take and stared him down. “I wanted to ask you, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please fly me home?

Azriel’s shock at the request was covered quickly. What he did know was that Gwyn was asking for physical contact with him. Winnowing only required the slightest touch. A hand or an arm. Flying on the other hand would be body contact on a larger scale. This was her choice. He nodded his head, lost for useful words. He didn’t want to sound like a clumsy novice male. He merely stretched an arm out for her to step into his side.

Gwyn turned to Emerie and Mor who were organising the other Idisi and gave them a smile. Emerie grinned in return and Azriel wrapped her in an embrace that was solid and calming yet her blood pounded and her eyes blinked. She couldn’t remember feeling so safe.

His wings spread and flapped and Azriel bent his knees and sprung into the breeze of the evening. Gwyn found herself tightening her grip around his neck and bringing her face closer to his

“You’re safe” is all he said

Gwyn simply replied “I know”

The trip down with Cassian had been exhilarating and freeing, the flying back required going across Velaris, coming to life with street lights and coloured flashes from the restaurants and dance rooms opening for the night. Gwyn got the feeling that she was missing a lot so she turned her head and took in the marvel of the city, the lights and the sun setting across the ocean. “Oh my goodness, Azriel, it is so beautiful” Azriel smiled and nodded, but he too looked properly at that view re-appreciating what he always knew was there. Trying to see it as Gwyn saw it for the first time brought a wonder to his heart that he had forgotten.

Gwyn looked at his face, and he caught her eyes. It was a charged moment. Azriel composed himself first and looked out to the sea and the river. With his free hand he began to point out landmarks and favourite haunts. From the Rainbow where Feyre went to paint and to teach, to the townhouse in the residential area and of course the sparkling flashing lights of Rita’s – their most frequented nightclub. “I guess I’ll be finding Mor and Emerie and probably the others there later” he smiled to think of what he knew of Mor now and the simmering looks that she and Emerie had been sharing during the ceremony. Only happiness filled him at the thought.

Gwyn was getting comfortable and moved a little in his arms. She squealed as she felt herself slip, but Azriel simply held her tighter and put his other arm under her legs, carrying her through the air like a princess. She surrendered, just for now she told herself, to the warmth and the stillness here in his chest.

Azriel relaxed into the embrace and flew steadily ignoring the thundering of his heart and the closeness of her lithe warrior’s body. The distance was covered all too soon and he stepped onto the roof of the house, jogging a few steps toward the double doors before coming to a halt. He placed her on the ground feet first, before facing her with his arm still around her middle. Gwyn stepped away first and walked backwards toward the entrance. She smiled at him

“Thank you Azriel” She looked down as if remembering where that jewel had rested until this afternoon. “I did really love that chain” She winked, as she had to him once before. This was not a student teacher interaction, this was a suggestion, a question to his searching. He took a step toward her and she held up a hand

“See you at training” and she turned, with every fibre of her being she kept walking toward the library. Willing him to watch her, to make a plan for the future to stop her from walking away. But not today. She was tired, she was wrung out and she did not trust herself to spend any more time with this male. He had opened too many doors within her to be careful of her wellbeing. She needed more time.

Azriel was old. He had bedded women across continents and had held a candle for Mor since he could remember wanting. Gwyn had him questioning any reaction that came to mind. Instead of those he just whispered “You will” He meant more than training tomorrow. He fully intended to show her what a thoughtful, evolved Illyrian male could evoke in a woman. She would not have a straw of fear left for him by the time she came to him ready to accept the necklace as truly hers.

#acotar #Gwynriel #Nessian #acosf #mating ceremony #Elriel #flying #Angsty #No Smut yet

25 notes · View notes

tailorvizsla · 4 years

Note

“Just let me see (her/him/them) one last time. Please.” with Paz 🥺

Title: Home Is In Your Arms Pairing: Paz x F Reader Word Count: ~4k Rating: R Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Reader is an ex-Storm Trooper and was not treated well, some attempts at medical jargon, Paz is injured, a hint of angst, and vanilla sex. Author’s Notes: A request from the lovely, wonderful @huliabitch that was supposed to be a one-shot but evolved into this entire-ass fic because I sort of like this concept? There’s a lot of buildup and not a lot of angst, but just a hint. I really hope you don’t mind! [Holy crap, I copied the wrong list of tags for this. I took those extra names off as soon as I realized it. I’m not sure if I got it quickly enough, though. If you got a note, I am really sorry. Forgive me, please.]

📚 My Master List 📚 If you want to send in a prompt (or just talk to me lol), feel free to peruse the list here!

The gunshot wound to his side is like a singular point of white-hot fire, a blinding supernova of agony as he stumbles against the crumbling remains of the blown-out grocery store. Blood burbles up through his lips and sprays against the inside screen of his visor, streaking crimson as it drips out through the bottom of his helmet. Paz sinks down between two of the shelves, fingers trembling as he tries to staunch the blood rapidly seeping into his kute. Paz gasps as his backside touches the ground, jarring the agonizing pain shooting up his side. His head swims nauseatingly as he struggles to get each gasp of air into his aching lungs.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. Really got in over my head today.

He had a bounty to pick up – a simple bounty for someone skipping on bail – and he had almost gotten them. Then the troopers had shown up with two AT-STs and a TIE-fighter. His head suddenly feels both heavy and empty, and he thinks about his family. His home. Paz lets his head fall back against a stone pillar, blackness starting to seep in at the edges of his eyesight.

Just let me see them one last time. Please.

The last thing he sees as his head bobs down toward his chest are a pair of white boots approaching him.

The EMP blast triggers a minor explosion that knocks you off your feet. Collapsing into the remains of the store, you try to regain your bearings. It takes you several minutes to realize that your collar is no longer buzzing. You toss your weapon down and yank your helmet off, pulling at the band digging into your neck. It does not budge. You swear quietly to yourself.

You remove your breast plate and abdominal armor and drop it on the ground. They will not protect you much from Mandalorian weapons. You’d rather die in your undersuit than in the Empire’s armor. The vambraces follow, falling to the dusty, cracked concrete with a clatter. Glancing around the shop, you find that you are in some sort of supply store. Hopefully, there will be a knife here you can borrow.

As you pass by a display, you pick up a bag and loop it over your chest. Then you go to ransack the shelve for food and medical supplies. There isn’t much here, but it will be enough to tide you over until you can find someplace safe.

When you round the corner, you see a massive pile of blue armor in the corner. You freeze. This is the Mandalorian who had taken out half the buckets on your squad by himself. Many of them had been collared like you. Others were blind followers of the Empire. Despite this, you hold no bitterness against him.

Rather, you find yourself in terrified awe of him.

You get as close to him as you dare and crouch, poking his pauldron. He doesn’t budge. Glancing down at his side, you notice the wound on his side. Shit, he has lost a lot of blood. Chewing on your lower lip, you begin digging through your bag of pilfered supplies. You have some basic first aid training, so you get to work on getting him back onto his feet. When you’ve packed the wound and sealed it with a mass of tape, you start to rifle through his pockets to see what medical supplies he might be carrying. He has a single dose of the really good bacta, the stuff that’ll get a corpse back onto its feet for a few minutes. The stuff that cannon fodder like you would never be given.

For a moment, you stare down at the tiny bottle in your hand, watching as the dose of medicine swishes around inside. You want to take it, but you decide against it. This warrior deserves better than to bleed out in a damn grocery store.

You stab him in the patch of skin you can see. Then you grab his vibroblade and start sawing at the band around your throat, cursing violently as the blade just barely begins to chew through it. You are so engrossed in the task at hand that you do not hear the soft inhalation from behind you. Or the near-silent growl. A rough hand grabs you by the shirt and pulls up. The other hand wraps itself around your neck and you go very still, teetering on your tiptoes to avoid being choked to death.

“Who the fuck are you?” comes a low, deadly voice in your ear.

“The idiot who decided to help you?” you choke out.

“Why the hell would an Imp help a Mandalorian?”

“F-figured would be the right thing to do,” you gasp out. “Borrowed you-your knife – “

“Did you want me on my feet to try and kill me?” he hisses at you. “Did you think I’d be an easy target?”

Your heart rate spikes as his hand tightens around your throat. You cough in response, pulling at his forearm to try and breathe. He doesn’t budge.

“Collar – cut it off – let me – let me die free, please – “

The arm around your neck loosens slightly. Blood rushes back into your head and your knees wobble. His other hand comes up and you inhale, closing your eyes, expecting him to snap your neck. Instead, he examines your collar.

“Interesting,” he says.

Then he yanks his blade from your hand and puts it back where you had borrowed it.

“If I let you go, will you attack me?”

“Not suicidal,” you gasp out.

“Smart girl,” he rumbles out.

He lets go. You stagger a bit, wheezing as you suck down some air to your oxygen-starved lungs. You turn to look at him. Upright, he’s even bigger than you thought. He towers over you by no small amount, nearly twice your size. You swallow tightly, feeling quite exposed without your armor.

Not that it would have protected you much if he decided to take a swing at you. Tripping and falling would crack that cheap plasteel shit. He stumbles and you just barely catch him around the middle. A grunt escapes you at just how damn heavy he is.

“If I help you out of here, will you take this damn thing off me?” you ask him.

“Sure, why not?” he slurs.

“Where to?” you ask.

“East,” he says.

“Are we waiting for anybody?”

“No,” he manages to say. “Just me.”

You stare at him incredulously.

“You are responsible for all this?” you hiss, gesturing at the mayhem outside.

He throws his head back and laughs. It takes nearly two hours to walk the half-mile back to his ship. At some point, you debate on asking him if he’d be willing to ditch the armor, but you decide against it. That amount of beskar is probably worth a small fortune. It takes you a minute to spot his ship, cleverly hidden under a rocky overhang and a large camouflage tarp.

The ramp opens and you carry him up the ramp. There, you drag him as far as you can before he collapses. You grab the tarp and drag it inside to keep it from getting sucked into the intake vents. You shut the door before you start looking for a med kit. You find it in the galley, just above the sink. Then you hurtle back to the Mandalorian and inject him with another dose of the good stuff. Then you check his wound. Miraculously, the bleeding seems to have stopped.

From there, there is little you can do but wait, so you cover his chest with a blanket and climb into the cockpit. It only takes a few minutes to get the ship into the air and away from the battlefield.

You aren’t quite sure when you fell asleep, but when a hand clamps down on your shoulder, your neck is sore, and you have drooled on yourself. You look up. Big Blue is looming over you.

“The fuck are you doing?” he growls.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes. Then it all comes back in a rush. Shit.

“I didn’t know where you wanted to go,” you stutter out. “So I put her in a random hyperspace lane. I think.”

“Move,” he snarls.

You quickly get out of his way and he sits down. You retreat into the copilot’s chair, where you sit in silence for several minutes. He makes several course adjustments before you dare to speak up.

“Can I use your refresher, please?” you ask.

Be polite and he may not just toss you out the back. He growls. You take that as a yes. You head down the ladder and into the refresher you had seen. You relieve yourself. Then you eye the tiny washing machine stuffed in the corner. You stare down at your stained undersuit.

It’s filthy.

You’re filthy.

Gnawing on your lower lip, you peer over at the ladder. You asked for the refresher, not the toilet. And the washing machine is in the refresher. So it’s fair game?

Swiftly, before you can porg out like a coward, you shuck the suit and your underthings off, stuffing it all into the washing machine. Then you jump into the shower and begin cleaning up quickly. You untie your hair and work the worst of the knots in your braid out with your fingers. Then you steal some soap and start scrubbing the layers of blood, dirt, and grime off your body.

The water is cold, but it is glorious to be able to shower for more than two minutes at a time. When you are finished, you hop out and grab a towel. You can just barely wrap it around yourself, and it does little to cover your curves. You are just moving your things into the dryer when you hear your Mandalorian’s footsteps stomping toward the door.

“It’s been twenty minutes,” he snarls.

You open the door, putting your hands up.

“I asked to borrow your refresher,” you say. “I borrowed it. Nothing more.”

He freezes, his dark visor tilted down at you.

“Uh,” he stutters out. “Uhm – “

“It looks like it’ll be a little bit before everything is finished drying,” you tell him. “Then I’ll find a corner to sit in. I promise I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers. “Get dressed. I will be in the cockpit.”

He turns on his heel and goes back to the ladder in a hurry. You frown after him. What a weirdo. It takes another thirty minutes for the dryer to finish extracting the moisture from your clothing. You put it all back on and head up to the cockpit. He turns to look at you.

“You stay on that cushion,” he says, pointing at a chair. “Are we clear?”

“Aye, captain,” you say, sitting down in the copilot’s chair.

He disappears down the narrow corridor. You peer after him, snooping shamelessly. You catch a glimpse of a big bed and a gun case before the door swishes shut after him. You turn your attention back to the dizzying array of blue lights passing by in the windows. Boredom sets in quickly. You glance at the door. Then at the cushion under you.

A stupid thought seizes you. You’re hungry. He’s probably famished. Big Blue is your commanding officer now. So, he gets to eat first. Then, if he allows it, you get to eat your own ration. You push the thoughts away. This isn’t the Empire - he may not care if you eat at all.

But still. He’s your commanding officer now. And he’s been injured.

You give the cushion a tug and it pulls away from the seat, revealing the attachment points. You climb down the ladder, the cushion under one arm. Then you go dig around in the galley for something to snack on. Setting the cushion on the ground, you take your place on it, and start sifting through the packages of freeze-dried food.

“WOMAN - !” your Mandalorian bellows.

You nearly leap into the air. He drops down the ladder and lands with a jarring thud. He comes stomping into the galley, where you have put what appears to be a ration pack on the counter to heat. He glowers down at you.

“What. Did. I. Tell. You.”

“You said I couldn’t leave the cushion,” you say. “But you need to eat – “

“I can feed myself,” he hissed. “I gave you a direct order – “

You pat the cushion under your ass.

“You need to eat,” you repeat. “Your blood sugar is probably tanked by now. And concentrated bacta does weird things to your sodium levels. You need to eat, sir.”

He inhales sharply to yell, but he cuts himself off, pressing his face to his hand. You can almost see the steam curling from under his helmet.

“Do not call me sir. Get your ass to the cockpit. NOW. Before I snap your fucking neck and throw you out the airlock.”

You grab the bread roll and stuff it into your mouth. Then you grab the cushion and climb back up the ladder, hastily replacing it where it belongs. By the time he gets back to you, you’ve devoured the bread, and you are licking the crumbs off your fingertips.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he snaps.

You tilt your head up at him questioningly and decide to not argue.

“Let me see your collar,” he says grouchily.

You flip your hair forward. Big Blue grabs the collar. This time, he far gentler as he starts messing with it. You stay quiet, hoping that it will come off. Then you feel something cold slip between it and your neck. Then it pinches and the collar falls away. You stare down at it, turning it over and over.

“I’m free,” you whisper. You look up at him. “I’m free.”

“Looks like it,” he says. “Where are you from?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t know.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m at least twenty-four,” you say. “That’s all I know.”

He turns to look at you.

“Any fodders who survive to their twenty-fourth get the dubious pleasure of being shortlisted for officer training,” you say quietly, bitterly as you look out the window. “I think my training started last year at some point.”

“How do you not remember?” he asks impatiently.

“They don’t want to damage our nervous systems with repeated shocking,” you say, looking down at the collar in your hands. “They sometimes drugged us if they suspected we were thinking too much.”

He doesn’t respond. You exhale. Then you chortle.

“Are you looking to hire backup? I’m a fair shot,” you say wryly. “I ask for two meals a day and a corner to sleep in.”

“You think I’d pay you that much?” he retorts. “You Imps are all terrible shots.”

“By the time someone gets put on frontline duty, their fine motor controls are fried,” you say nonchalantly, swinging your foot back and forth. You hold up your hand, watching as your fingers tremble minutely.

“A lieutenant made a pass at me and I turned him down. He didn’t like that,” you say nonchalantly. “He refused to take no for an answer, so I broke his nose.”

“You were tortured for defending yourself?” he asks, his voice suddenly quiet.

You tilt your head up at him questioningly.

“Oh, no. Gideon had him killed for making a pass at me. Mingling between officers and fodders is forbidden,” you say, shaking your head. “I got my date with the electrical socket because I missed cleaning up his blood. Some of it got on Gideon’s boot."

You wrap your arms around your knee and stare out at the lights flashing by. He doesn’t respond for a long time.

“Two meals and a corner?” he asks.

“That’s my best offer,” you respond. “If you let me have a blanket, I can negotiate down to one meal a day.”

“Bread?” he counters.

“Warm,” you return easily. “With butter. And I still want a blanket.”

“You look at me wrong and I will toss you straight out through the airlock. You understand?”

You nod, relief filling you.

Two Years Later

You nudge Paz with your elbow and tilt your head toward the gorgeous redhead at the bar.

“How about her?” you ask. “Go ask her for her comm number.”

“No,” Paz says for the twelfth time that night. “I told you, I have a different type.”

“I can’t help you find a nice lady if you won’t tell me what your type is,” you say to Paz. “You have turned down literally every person I have suggested. You do still like ladies, right?”

He sighs in exasperation.

“I don’t do the temporary thing,” he says at long last.

“So you want the whole nine parsecs, yes?” you ask. “A nice courtship, marriage, and a herd of little blue brats? Maybe a loth-cat?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Or as close as I can get to it. I’m not going to find that person in a bar.”

You sigh dejectedly.

“Why do you care?” he asks, tilting his helmet down at you.

“Well, I certainly am not going to get laid,” you say. “Might as well play the role of backup and keep helping you out.”

He huffs in amusement.

“I have my eyes on someone closer to me,” he says quietly.

“Oh?” you ask, perking up. “Is it – oh, who was that – sauce girl? The one who dumped a pot of sauce all over – “

“No,” Paz says, his head turning to yours sharply. “No, you di’kut. That was my kriffing cousin.”

“Well, fuck,” you say. “She’s the only woman I’ve seen you spend any amount of time with.”

“Much closer,” he continues in an odd tone.

“…are you hiding your lady friends from me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes up at him. “What, are you afraid I’ll tell them about your stupid ideas when you get wasted? How dare you.”

He harrumphs grumpily.

“Take mercy on the poor man,” a drunken voice slurs. “He means you, daft girl.”

A sharp jolt of surprise fills you as you look up at Paz. He grimaces and refuses to look at you as he sips his drink down. The drunk person laughs and sloshes their way to an empty booth, where they collapse onto the cushion and start snoring. You give Paz an appraising look.

“So, do you wanna fuck me, or do you want the whole nine parsecs?” you ask, tilting your head up at him.

“Uh…both?” he says.

Without hesitating, you slam a handful of credits on the bar to pay for your drink. Then you finish the last sip.

“Let’s go,” you tell him.

“Where?” he asks.

“Ship,” you say. “I haven’t been fucked in years.”

“Well, maybe we should discuss – “

“Blue,” you say patiently. “There is nothing to discuss. My answer is yes.”

You hear his sharp inhalation from here.

“Now. If you don’t start moving, I’ll just borrow the bartender’s can opener,” you say saucily to him. “I’ll get that codpiece off, one way or another.”

Paz puts his drink down and adds his own money to the pile. It takes far too long to get back to the ship. Once the ramp is closed behind him, you start shucking your clothes off. When you’re completely naked, you start helping Paz remove his armor, dropping it onto the table. Then he removes his padding and undersuit, revealing a thick, muscular frame to you. Then the lights turn off and you hear another thunk. A thrill runs through you when you realize his helmet is off.

“Bed?” you ask, hoping he’ll say yes to a tumble on that decadent bed of his.

“Bed,” he confirms.

You make it up the ladder in record time, opening the bedroom door. Paz follows after you, not bothering to shut the door, as he hurtles onto the bed after you. He throws you down onto your back, mouth crashing onto yours, one hand groping at your hip and the other supporting the majority of his weight. You pull at Paz’s hair, digging your nails into his scalp as you kiss him back, wrapping your legs snugly around his waist. It’s sloppy and a bit rushed, but you do not care.

He tastes like the cheap fruit alcohol he had been drinking and like himself, vaguely sweet and metallic. You nip at his lower lip, a little rougher than you intended, earning a growl from him. He grinds his length against you and you gasp sharply. You’re already soaking wet and ready for Paz as he slides his hand between your bodies. His fingers press inward. You tear your mouth away from his and moan, lifting your hips against his hand.

“Yes,” you hiss at him. “Paz, more!”

He nibbles his way along your neck and down to your shoulder, the wet sounds of his fingers working inside of you barely audible over your moans. Frustrated, you hook one leg behind his, the other on the bed for leverage. You kiss Paz back, forcing your tongue into his mouth, relishing in his noise of surprise. You push against his shoulder at the same time and you just barely get him onto his back.

“Not sure what you think you’re doin’,” he manages to say as you settle on his hips.

“Shut up,” you tell him, as you position his generously sized cock under you.

Your eyes roll back as you start to take him in slow, short thrusts. He’s a lot bigger than you had expected, but you are no coward – you have never shied away from a challenge. Just when you think you can’t take any more of his hard, thick length, your clit presses down against his pubic bone, and a victorious thrill runs through you.

You can feel him throbbing deep inside of you just shy of discomfort. As you catch your breath, Paz shifts impatiently, a groan escaping him.

“Move, move – “ he urges around his pants. “Baby, please.”

Resting your weight on his lower belly, you start a slow pace, grinding slow circles, relishing in each rich moan you can get from your lover. One hand finds your hip, the other your breast. He pinches down on your nipple and you mewl at the sharp burst of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he stutters out. “Feel so-so fuckin’ good, baby.”

You change your pace, swiveling your hips in tight circles, arching your back so he can get in nice and deep with each thrust. Paz gasps, a tremor running through his body as you take him that extra half-inch.

“Shit,” he says, his voice catching just a hair, “Oh fuck, don’t – don’t know what I did to deserve you. Don’t fuckin’ deserve you, baby – “

Your breath stutters at his words, but your pace doesn’t break.

“ – so good to me,” he babbles, “Too good to me – too good for me – “

Tears spring to your eyes at his self-deprecation. You dig your nails into his belly to stop him, grinding down against his pubic bone.

“You’re mine,” you whisper in response. “Mine, Paz Vizsla, you’re mine and you’re perfect.”

Both hands fall to your hips and Paz starts to thrust up into you, taking over and setting the pace he wants. Paz grunts in frustration and pulls you down against his chest, rolling your bodies back over before you can protest. He presses a kiss to your lips before resuming his punishing pace once more, each thrust sending you spiraling higher and higher toward completion. You dig your nails into his back when he starts hitting that spot, the one that makes you sob.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant into his ear. “Gods, yes, Paz – I’m c-coming – “

You tighten around him and cry out on more time, digging your heels into his backside as you come around him, walls shuddering around his cock. The pleasure sweeps through you in deep, devastating waves, leaving you breathless and shaking. Paz goes stiff, harsh groans escaping him with each pulse of his cock inside you. After several long seconds, he falls forward onto his elbows, trapping you under him. As you run your fingers along his spine and massage his shoulders, Paz sighs with pleasure, his cock occasionally twitching.

“Need me to move?” he asks.

“I can take it,” you say sleepily. “Kinda like it. You’re like a weighted blanket. A really warm one.”

He huffs in amusement.

“Your feet are like ice,” he says.

He pulls his hips back. A torrent of his spend follows as you stretch out for a few seconds. Then you crawl under the blanket and curl up, inhaling the soft scent of his pillows. Paz joins you a moment later, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You’re a walking furnace,” you mumble to him. “Holy fuck.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your temple. Just as your breath is starting to slow, Paz speaks softly. So softly you nearly miss it.

“Always wanted to go home,” he whispers. “Never knew it was right here the whole time.”

Warmth fills your chest at those sweet words.

“Sleep, cyar’ika.”

For the first time in your life, you find rest easily. You dream of pleasant things, and your future no longer seems terrifying and lonely.

Tags: I guess this qualifies as a fic in some places? lmao

@hdlynn @princessbatears @oloreaa @phoenixhalliwell @reader-without-a-story @nelba @aeryntheofficial @trippedmetaldetector @jedi-mando @marthastewart89

#huliabitch #asks #tailor doesn't understand the meaning of restraint #sorry #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #romance #smut #tailor is a thirsty bitch confirmed

146 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 4 years

Text

Playing with Fire

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,270

Summary: Being on vacation is all fun and games until someone gets sunburned!

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Second Chance Drabble Challenge! The prompt I chose was #8: “Ok who do I have to ask for a sunburn fic with (character)? It’s summer time and I feel like we all could use some sweet Bucky Barnes or Steve Rogers either helping with the aloe or trying to have sex without touch the burned spots and it goes clumsy and funny and “ow-ow-ow it hurts right there!” Either way he whips his dick out fo sho.” And I went with Bucky on this one! I hope you like this, I live for Bucky on the beach so...yay! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: sexy, sassy and shirtless Bucky, flirting, teasing fun, light dirty talk, cursing, SMUT (18+ only please)

You watch as Bucky stands behind the volleyball net, his body poised for the serve and his teal blue bathing suit sitting low on his hips. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying the view of your boyfriend running around on the sand, sweat dripping down his chest and abs and his metal arm sparkling in the sun. Every time he stretches up to reach for the ball his suit hangs low and you get a glorious glimpse of the V shape of his abs and the trail of hair leading downward.

The sun is beating down on you all and making it almost impossible not to continuously go into the ocean to get wet and cool off. You’re just drying off from your latest dip when Bucky jogs toward you. “Hey doll. Can you reapply my sunblock please? I feel like I’m on fire.” Getting to your feet you look him up and down. “Oh, you’re on fire alright.”

He drags you into him, his sweat slick chest sliding against yours. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the show and there’s plenty more where that came from.” With a giggle you push him away and grab the sunblock, squirting it into your hands and rubbing some along his shoulders and back. You’re loving the job, turning him around and smoothing the left over on his pecs. “There you go Buck, should be good for a little while.”

Planting a firm kiss to your lips he runs back to the game, giving you a little wiggle on the way. The rest of the time you can tell he’s purposefully showing off, stretching between each volley and flexing every chance he gets. You playfully roll your eyes the next time he looks your way and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

After the game is finished everyone plops themselves on their beach towels for a much-needed snack. You sit between Bucky’s spread legs and lean against his chest. “Are you gonna play in the next game. I wouldn’t mind watching you bounce around on the sand.” You turn to face him and pick up your sunglasses, glaring at him. “Bounce around. Oh my god, Bucky. Really.” He laughs while rubbing his hands over your shoulders and down your chest. “Hands off buddy! I’m eating!”

Resting his head on your shoulder he whispers in your ear, “and I know what I’m gonna be eatin’ later.” Even under the scorching sun your body shivers at his words and you feel him squirm behind you. “I like the sound of that, but only after I get a taste” you say quietly, brushing your ass against his crotch.

“Ok, let’s go! Last round everybody!” Steve shouts from the towel he shares with Peggy. Bucky groans, trying to adjust himself discreetly before standing. “Let’s go babe. You owe me a show.” You take his extended hand and he hauls you up, crashing his lips to yours before smacking your ass. “Yeah!” he shouts, clearly enjoying himself.

Bucky actually misses a few shots because he can’t take his eyes off you while you play. You make sure to point it out every time, getting a kick out of his reactions. “You keep this up you’re gonna get it later, doll face.” Poking his chest, you lean in close, “oh I plan on it baby.” Sauntering off you join Nat for a drink, giggling over the boys who are grumbling about getting their butts kicked by the girls.

When it nears dinner time everyone goes off to their respective suites to shower and get ready to eat. You have Bucky pinned against the wall of the shower with his back resting against the cool tile. Kneeling between his legs you dip your hand inside, trying to free his already hard cock. You moan when you wrap your hand around the soft and warm skin, pulling on his hips so you can get his suit off.

His back rubs against the wall and he grimaces, quiet “ow’s” falling from his lips. You look up, concern washing over your features. “What’s wrong Buck? Are you ok?” He nods, combing his metal hand through your hair and tugging your face closer. You smirk and start working down his shorts. Feeling him tense up again you stand, leveling him with a stern look. “Bucky.” He wipes a hand down his face and groans, whining when he turns to show you his back. “I think I got sunburned and it hurts really bad, especially with my back rubbing against the wall.”

You frown, “wow, Buck. It’s really red. Shit. I guess we should have reapplied a third time.” Taking his face in your hands you bring him down for a kiss and it quickly heats up, his back hitting the wall as you deepen it. “Ow. Fuck this sunburn,” he cries against your lips. “Let’s shower and try the bed.” Helping each other wash you get out as soon as you can and Bucky quickly dries off, launching himself onto the bed with a loud, “OW!” You look over at him and shake your head. “Really? Did you forget about the sunburn already?”

Giving you a warning look he says, “I’m excited. Now get over here,” and he crooks his finger at you. You crawl to him on the bed, placing one knee on each side of his hips. Rocking yourself over his cock, you moan at the feel, kissing down his abs and settling between his legs. Your knees feel raw as they rub along the sheets and you shift to try and get comfortable, making a pained face. “What’s wrong doll? You ok?” he asks, giving you the same concerned expression, you gave him before.

“Yea I think so. It’s just every time my knees rub against the sheets it kinda hurts.” He sits up, pulling you into his lap so he can look at them. “Wow. They look pretty red. I didn’t even know knees could get sunburnt!?!” He pushes you forward to check your back, wincing when he sees how red it is. “Burnt there too huh? I thought I felt it under the shower”, you say, rolling your head onto his chest and letting out a big sigh. “This sucks. I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.”

He tightens his hold on you and yells, “you’ve been thinking about it all day!? It’s all I ever think about.” You laugh at him, snuggling closer and wiggling in his lap. He lets out a growl as his cock throbs beneath you. “Baby doll, we better figure something out and fast.” Sitting up with a wide grin you carefully get off him, motioning for him to sit at the edge of the bed.

With a curious look he does as you ask, spreading his thighs wide when you stand between them. “This should be fun,” you simper, kissing is lips before turning around. With your back to his chest you reach behind and take his cock in your hand, guiding it toward your entrance. Leaning forward slightly you slowly sink down, groaning as he stretches you. “Holy fuck,” he grinds out, his hands grasping your waist to hold you steady.

You still for a moment, loving the feel of him this deep. He squeezes your side and you rise up, slamming back down with enough force to make the bed bounce. As you pick up the pace, he brings his metal hand around to your front, settling his thumb against your clit and it isn’t long before you’re screaming his name, all thoughts of sunburn gone from existence.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @buckys-broody-muffin @buckys-minty-breath @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @breezy1415 @bucky-on-my-mind @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @itsunclebucky @ikaris-whore @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @kaosera @loricameback @lorilane33 @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @addikted-2-dopamine @softpeachbarnes @tuiccim @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @yansi1923 @emilylyoness

246 notes · View notes

fragileizywriting · 2 years

Text

writing this down somewhere so i don’t forget!!!

pacific rim au oneshot

adrien used to pilot the mech named cataclysm by himself before they found out that the stress of piloting a jaegar by a single person causes too much stress in the body. he was the prodigy at the age of 17. the angel. the protector when no one else would do it. when alix’s jaegar was too thin, or when max’s advanced tech still couldn’t win against the kaiju. adrien’s mech is just more well-rounded, combined with martial arts. kaiju might have not flinched at an atom bomb, but they were no match for adrien’s spinning hook kick.

but that was before.

the nightmares are endless, now. the mechs were designed to let the user have full control of the body. adrien spent weeks being hundreds of meters tall, just to condense himself back to his height after he was done? even alix, the small little runt of a mech she had, was still hundreds of time larger than her real height.

but who cares, right? adrien is the son of the billionaire that designs the suits. he has enough to get the best doctors there are. in fact, he’s been gone for the past five years orbiting the very earth he’s spent his entire younger years protecting, because there are no kaiju in space—

he listens to the news 24/7. needing. wanting to be back down there and pilot his mech. every person he hears that hasn’t been found from the latest attacks is someone he didn’t save. the doctors tell him to relax and stop because he won’t get any better and then he really won’t go back down there, but it’s no use.

they’re getting worse. the attacks are getting worse. they get so bad that they don’t have any choice but to bring everyone back, to scrounge up everyone and every mech they can, under the condition that they partner with someone. everyone except adrien is in agreement— adrien refuses.

especially since their coordinator is already unimpressed by him. he’s a short, old man, who mutters disinterest in having adrien in the field (all in mandarin, of course, as if he’s searing adrien to tell him that he understands every word).

his young assistant— his niece? his grand daughter? his…. daughter?— is no better. even at 21, a year younger than him, she looks aged next to their coordinator. she follows the man everywhere with a clipboard, chewing on the end of her braid, always mashing her teeth when she’s not impressed by adrien’s qualifying records. the faction calls her by the name “kitty cheng”, including their coordinator— but he yells it whenever he’s just as unimpressed with her behavior as he is with adrien’s— and there is fire in her blue eyes whenever she looks at adrien. like he’s the culprit that she’s in this stupid position. with her stupid clipboard. and clicking her pen. and sucking in her teeth whenever he does something she doesn’t like.

it drives him nuts.

“alright,” adrien tells her, throwing her a wooden staff, after she’d told him that his lines are sloppy for a man who’s been doing this since he was 17. “you think you can do better, kitty? fucking show me.”

she does. easily. without breaking a sweat. she tosses him like a doll during the fights. he recognizes her fighting pattern— it’s plagg’s fighting style, of course— of course!— she’s been taught by his own martial arts teacher— oh. shit.

she snaps his staff in half with a flattened palm, and he’s out, rolling onto his back and his vision dimming into a pinhole.

“i want her in my mech,” adrien calls out, starry-eyed when he can finally see again. she’d knocked him straight onto his back and everything hurts but it’s glorious.

“impossible. my great-grand-daughter”—okay. cool. great-grand-daughter, huh?—“isn’t allowed.”

“why?”

“i forbid it.”

“okay. cool.” he knows better than to listen to this old guy. he goes looking for her on base, searching for kitty cheng. everyone teases him when he asks for her, finally finding her hiding wherever plagg is.

he convinces her to drift with him. plagg thinks this is a horrible idea. they fit like puzzle pieces.

plagg still thinks this is a horrible idea.

#speakizys

5 notes · View notes

hoodedwing · 3 years

Text

Loyalty Killed Me

Summary: The Joker could finally do what he wanted to do, traumatize Nightwing

Characters: Nightwing. Harley Quinn. Joker. Mentions of Red Hood

Warnings: Just really sick ways of stitching people up. Blood. Depressive. Major character/s death mentions. Batman. Doctor Leslie Thompkins

Additional Notes: I know Joker cannot traumatize Grayson canon-wise? Please correct me if I’m wrong.

Word Count: 2,242 words

***

Time doesn't stop.

Time knows, in its hands. It plays around with the seconds. These seconds matter, someone dying, someone on the communicator whispering, ____ come get me. come get me, I can't go back.

Time doesn't freeze. Time does not have a cloak drapes around it in a timeless manner. Time does not walk in a regal manner and stroke your gaping wounds to cauterize them. Apply pressure because really, when did Time wait for you to stop the damned arterial spray? Have you seen first hand how much blood can spew, almost like a fountain from that serrated dagger?

Time has caught up with Dick Grayson, the Wonder Boy. The Nightwing Blüdhaven didn't deserve. The loving boyfriend/husband of Barbara Gordon. The first son of Bruce Wayne, Batman.

Batman. He doesn't know who's Batman. Not anymore.

3200..6400..12800..

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Remember, inhale slowly, inflate lungs. Let it circulate through. Let. Let it work.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful and your father was handsome. You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters.

Pain.

Pain is relative. If you fuck with pain long enough, it won't fuck back with you. Pain spreads through him and he inhales deep, bigger breaths. Trying to drown out the searing ache. He succeeds, deceives his brain.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He knows how to lie, how to smile widely at the Blüdhaven precinct when shit goes down or still tell a joke or two when Damian is there.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He's a good man. Honest to goodness. He's fooled himself into thinking his left leg didn't feel on fire, he's successfully managed to stop gasping against the rattle of his chest, a rub or two might be the cause. Who knows?

BOY WONDER! SAD YOUR DEAREST BATMAN HASN'T COME TO SAVE YOU YET? WHY LOOK AT THAT.

Mistah J checks his watch and smiles, his crooked smile stares back at Richard.

Dick only looks away as the Joker's cold fingers run his slimy, skinny fingers along his body. He used to shiver under his touch in a bad way, he would gulp and squeeze his eyes shut, hunting for memories to dive into.

When he got Zitka. When his mother named him her Robin. When he went on patrol for the first time with the all mighty Batman. When he first met Jason. Then Tim. Then Damian. Then the nights they spent healing wounds, fighting together or just sleeping or Netflix.

Dick doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He doesn't even let out a humourless laugh or a quip. Dick clings onto a hope.

Batman. Come get me.

BOY WONDER IS STILL LIVING. WHY, THAT'S A JOY. COME OUT THERE LITTLE BLUE BIRD. YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN STAY IN THAT LITTLE BRAIN OF YOURS? WHEN YOU WAKE UP. THAT LEG WILL HURT. YOUR BLOOD WILL SPILL AGAIN ON THAT DARNED LITTLE CREST.

He doesn't care. The glorious speech does not make him flinch. He looks at the window, one thought crosses his cloudy vision.

Bruce (Dad), come get me.

LET'S HAVE SOME MORE FUN, SHALL WE. EVEN JAYBIRD PLAYED THIS GAME TOO. COME ON, HE HAD FUN. LET'S PLAY BLUE BIRD. BLUE JAY. HMM. I LIKE THAT.

Playtime.

Its always target practice. He would lie there and watch Harley swing her mallet here and there, sometimes too close to Dick and she would talk to him, so sweetly.

Aww, you wanna play too? Let's play together, shall we?

His face will clench up, his head will scream and suddenly everything is loud as Harley fires guns at targets and maybe shoot some arrows at Dick.

On lucky days, he's used as her gymnast prop.

I want to fly again. Batman I'm falling, please I'd like to fly again. My wings are clipping and I will rip. -

He falls asleep.

You can't call it sleeping. Dozing in and out of consciousness, he was neither awake or sleeping. A grey haze flittered across his vision. No sign of clarity. He still heard the rattle of his breath, the fire in his leg. The now warm abdomen.

He feels someone at his leg.

Harley Quinn was there, a sly smile as he feels a needle go in and out.

In and out. In and out.

In and out, in and out. You need to breathe Dick. In and out. In and out.

When he hears the door shut and a ricocheting silence, he peeks at his leg.

A sick suturing of his leg stabs with dental floss, a handiwork Harley was sure to boast later on. He doesn't care if it gets infected. What's the big deal? Batman will take care of it.

He turns over on his side to his communicator lay. The Nightwing emblem was shattered beyond measure. No matter, I can get a new one. The communication mattered.

He presses the distress signal again, again. Again. Bruce better get that flashing orange light and he should feel his bipolar touch in no time.

He tries to talk, voice hoarse from decreased usage and a rough sandpaper-like quality stuck to it.

"H..hello? Bruce. Dad. Please get me. I'm.. I'm waiting. Please."

He turns back in his side, curled up like an invited animal.

The rain pours, shadows keep coming in and out but none belong to his dad.

The boy asks the moon if Batman had lost his way. Asked if the moon could shine the light brighter at him so Dad can find him faster. He'll be okay, he'll be okay. Bruce might be lost, after all. There's a lot of streets and time isn't on anyone's side.

Two weeks go by.

Dick still finds himself bound by the ties and definitely no sign of the caped crusader.

Batman is surely coming.

That thought fades slowly, over the weeks. He's gotten more used to the Joker and the crowbar.

Is this how Jason felt, when he was in Hell?

Dick cannot remember. Dick only knows how the sound of metal and bones work, how the bullet will hit skin, pierce it through with frightening velocity and dull ache afterwards. The pool of blood will remind him that yes, I was shot.

A sick game of Russian Roulette. Instead of one bullet, there's multiple. A .44 magnum shouldn't hurt anymore. The revolver keeps spinning in his mind where acrobats should be. Where's Bruce. Where's dad. Am I forgotten?

Dick tried to remember how to breathe. Is it that hard? Just pulling in oxygen and letting the respiration mechanism do its work?

Distract thine self.

He tries to remember. Tries. He's trying. Nightwing has to do this. You need to at least remember your name. Your mother, your father. Dick. Dick.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful but I don't know what her hair colour is, sometimes it's blonde or chestnut and your father was handsome. You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters. Are they Jason? Tim? Da- I don't remember, I don't remember the tiny one. Is he even real? Your sisters too. Stephanie, Stephanie. I have one more, the sneaky one. She's fast but I don't know her name. I'd like to know her well too. Pity I. I don't know her name. I hope she knows my name. That way I can hear her voice and maybe figure out who is the charming one. I know she does ballet. I know she made brownies once with.. Who? I don't remember his name. The old man with cheery wrinkles and deep eyes. I don't know who he is too. Oh. Oh oh. Dick.

[DANGEROUS TO FALL ASLEEP, RICHARD JOHN 'DICK' GRAYSON. EYES. OPEN. EYES. OPEN. BREATHE. (MY LUNGS DON'T WORK)]

I'm begging someone, please. It doesn't have to be Bruce. Get the ballet girl to help me please, she fast and maybe I can ask her name while she gets me out of here.

Bruce never gives up.

You know that too, do you? He's spent 3 weeks finding his son. His beloved child.

Do you ever think how much Bruce's heart breaks over and over everyday?

"ALFRED?! CAN YOU GET JASON NOW, NOW, NOW?! I FIGURED HIS COORDINATES."

Bruce flips from the Batcomputer and grabs everything. A blind haste, he's never dressed so fast. His son. Oh my god, his son.

Jason is down there getting the Batmobile to rev up and they speed.

They speed.

Are they fast?

I guess. If you call 290 in 85 fast.

They run, Jason dashing first and his breath catches in his throat. A cold draught erupts inside of him. He snarls, Bruce turns as he digs through the alleyways. He finds what he knows lurks.

"The sick fucker is going to end Dick in the same fucking warehouse he ended me in. That big bitch.

Bruce puts one hand on his shoulder and squeezes. No time to panic, Dick is the one. is the unsaid message as Jason crashes through the window.

And even him, Red Hood. The one who sees and commits murder everyday, stops and hot anger sears through him.

Dick lies, barely 15 feet away, bound up and covered in his own blood, the ripped Nightwing suit from his recon mission. Bruce picks him up while Jason gladly punched (and secretly plugged a bullet) the fuck out of Mistah J and Harley.

They lie on unconscious, Jason evaluates the scenes, trying to suppress his screams at what they've done to Grayson.

Bruce picks up Dick like he's glass, he hurries to the Batmobile with Jason telling to prepare the Medbay.

"The Medbay.. I.. I don't think. Leslie. Leslie can."

Is all Bruce says and Jason revs up, driving the Batmobile way beyond the legal limit. Bruce doesn't give a flying banana about it. He'll pay the fine later.

Bruce looks down at his son, hoping he hasn't fallen asleep yet. Finally, finally Dick is in the arms of the crusader. Half his domino mask is ripped and Bruce tries to not break at the baby blues staring without any light-hearted gaze.

His heart still beats (A reminder he's alive and could've been more alive. Bruce failed him)

"LESLIE. DR THOMPKINS!"

Jason screeches across and marching in, earning angry stares from the other patients but it turns into gasps and horror when they see Batman carry a limp Nightwing barely clad in spandex anymore. Everyone bows out, knowing they were priority.

Something inside Dick broke.

He doesn't know what it is.

He'll live with it.

"Bruce, he's fallen into a coma."

Leslie says, solemn. Angry tears form in Jason's eye and he was about to fight Bruce, give him the tirade. Compare him to Nightwing.

The unspoken message rings loudly in Bruce's mind. He doesn't need Jason to say it.

You failed him too.

Jason is seething, anger. Sadness a d everything is violating him from inside.

If you were a minute later, he would've died. We would've been carrying his body to the grave. The Joker would still live. You see the problem? DO YOU NOT SEE THE FUCKING PROBLEM?

Bruce sits beside Dick, his pulse like a fluttering butterfly. He grasps his hand in Duck's fragile one and prays.

Prays that he wakes up.

Dick is on a life support machine now.

I guess the ventilator couldn't keep him up. All good boys do die. If not, maybe a part of them broke.

Dick is no exception.

Alfred squeezes Bruce's hand. Jason sits so quietly beside him alongside the rest of the family.

Its April 27th. Jason was taken this day.

They don't say a word, neither does Red Hood, he just wants the baby blue eyes to open again.

He cries.

Five months have gone by and he stirs slowly.

He's barely moving and Jason shoots up and looks, squeezes Dick's hand again.

Baby blues meet emerald green.

Jason dashes for Leslie. She comes and shoos everyone out.

Jason is fucking glad. Dick is alive.

Bruce is disappointed.

He cannot bring himself to meet Dick who's currently in the ward under observation. He's failed Dick. He knows it.

He enters, heavy hearted. Dick is smiling at everyone but Bruce can see it, the hard lines. The sunshine doesn't reach the baby blues. He thinks they've turned into aquamarine, a shade tad too dark. I guess, that's what trauma does to people.

Dick smiles at Bruce, he feels the tension and Dick pats the chair beside him where Jason was sleeping. Bruce softly sits, he has no heart to wake Jason up.

Dick is alive. Dick is alive.

Bruce places one hand on Grayson's one, it feels much more warmer and his pulse is beating normally.

And he breaks.

He cries, tears steaming down his cheeks. An ugly sound escapes his throat. Bruce gasps in air and exhales shakily. Dick watches, silent.

Is this how you felt when I was in Hell?

Dick doesn't touch Bruce, doesn't say its okay and I'm alive. He stares dead into Bruce.

I cannot forgive.

Dick sits quietly, he doesn't have to say it. Loyalty does kill you in the end if you step on all the wrong pieces of glass.

That's when you find yourself falling from the trapeze line, you find yourself swirling again in the memories you wish you could lock.

Loyalty in the end, is your demise.

39 notes · View notes

inukagome15 · 4 years

Note

Draco/Michael Coffeeshop!au || enemies to lovers || “did you hack into my hotspot?”

I feel for every follower of this blog who looks at this pairing and silently goes wtf?? because this isn’t just a rare pair. It’s a unicorn pair. Look at this unicorn. Which is only possible because of a very specific set of circumstances that has never been replicated before.

Ahem. If you’re wanting a prompt filled, take a look at this list and shoot me an ask!

“Did you hack into my hotspot?”

Draco Malfoy was having a very bad day. He was having the worst day. His hotspot - his precious, precious hotspot that he had spent so much money on - had been hacked. And he was relatively sure the culprit was the brown-skinned man sitting in the corner of the coffee shop.

Well, he was mostly sure. The man had given a very long huffing sigh that had sounded aggrieved and then the next thing Draco knew, his phone had cheerfully shown that there were two users of his hotspot. Which he paid good money for because nothing was cheap in England. Except for the government.

And now he was staring down the man who had hacked into Draco’s paid for hotspot and was realizing he had made a Mistake because the man was handsome, good looking, and also looked at him like Draco had just asked a particularly dull question.

The man looked down at his laptop, which was open to a perfectly innocuous news site on the raging wildfires in California, and then back up to Draco with an expression befitting that of Draco’s godfather. “Evidently yes.”

The gall of him. He actually admitted to it! To Draco’s face!

“It was password protected,” Draco said shortly.

There was a pause that contained worlds. “Was it?”

Was it? Was it?

Draco was damn sure it was!

“Yes,” Draco said even more shortly than before, “it was.”

The man blinked at him, then down to the site that was now proclaiming that it seemed a portion of the wildfires had been doused by a sudden and unexpected rain shower. “I see.”

Good Lord, could this man not get a hint?

“Can you not?” Draco asked in a tone that was now blatantly rude.

The man took a slow sip from his coffee, blinking slowly at Draco in a manner that made him feel seen, and then he bowed his head.

It wasn’t an answer. It wasn’t even in the vicinity of an answer, but for some reason Draco got the impression that this was an agreement. Appeased, but still annoyed, Draco returned to his own things and saw that his hotspot was now only hosting one connection.

Good.

The man was again at the coffeeshop when Draco returned next week. This time he was accompanied by a white-skinned man with a finely trimmed goatee and dark hair. They seemed to be engaged in a conversation, neither of them looking at Draco when he made a beeline to his usual table.

Since the man had hacked into his hotspot, Draco had done his due diligence to changing his password to something else after reflection that “Strongpassword” probably wasn’t very strong at all. “Strongpassword1234″ would probably be better.

Half an hour of work later, Draco realized that he now had three connections on his hotspot. Only one of them was him. He looked up to where the man was sitting. He was still accompanied by the other man, but Draco had zero qualms in marching right up to him and demanding that he get off his hotspot. Again.

“Again?” the other man exclaimed in an American accent, with a tone of sheer delight to the words. “Michael, say it ain’t so!”

The man - whose name was presumably Michael - looked up from his laptop to the other man, fixing him with an entirely unimpressed look.

“No, really,” Michael’s companion continued. “Say it ain’t so.”

“Gabriel.” Michael’s tone was longsuffering.

Gabriel gave Michael a shit-eating grin, then turned it on Draco.

God, why was everything about this man so cavalier and dismissive?

“Please,” Draco ground out in a tone that definitely didn’t mean “please” at all, “get off my hotspot.”

“Oh, he said ‘please,’ Michael,” Gabriel said, sounding like he was enjoying himself immensely.

Michael closed his eyes like Gabriel was giving him a headache, then looked up to Draco. “Naturally.”

Draco turned on his heel to return to his table to find that both Michael and Gabriel had taken themselves off his hotspot. Good.

Now to change his password again. And...possibly also his hotspot name?

The California wildfires had been put out by what news sites were proclaiming was an “act of God,” because no one had predicted the week long rainstorm that inundated the American state and left it drenched and entirely without fire for the first time in a long time.

This was good news. There was also good news because Draco had successfully changed his hotspot name and his password so Michael had no chance of getting into it and would know he was thoroughly unwelcome. It was glorious.

Draco enjoyed his coffee, which was one of the perks of coming to this coffeeshop. The other perk was the lack of wifi provided in-store, as it was one of those stores that had failed to keep up with the times but was thus a big hit with the locals who weren’t fan of the tourists trying to find wifi for their phones.

He enjoyed his coffee so much that he didn’t even notice when Michael snuck his way back onto Draco’s hotspot. No, he didn’t notice until he went home and realized that the name of his hotspot had been changed to “Youmaywanttostrengthenyourpassword.”

The only beings who heard Draco’s outraged cry were his neighbors, who had become far too used to Draco keeping odd hours.

To Draco’s dismay, Michael was a regular at the coffeeshop. He was occasionally accompanied by a few other people. Gabriel was sometimes there, a joke on his lips more often than not. There was also a short Asian woman in a business suit who had an extremely longsuffering expression on her face that somehow trumped Michael’s. And then there was another short person of indeterminate gender who was as bad as Gabriel and even worse than Michael at hacking into Draco’s hotspot.

Draco hated absolutely everything and refused to leave the coffeeshop because he had been there first and Michael and his cronies were not going to chase him away.

Unfortunately, nothing he did kept them out. He changed his passwords; Michael somehow breezed past them without blinking an eye. He changed the hotspot name; Michael hacked into that and changed the name to something else. Lately, the names had been offers to help Draco with strengthening his security.

Offers Draco refused to take him up on because he wasn’t that desperate. He had principles. Even if he was entirely unsure why he refused to accept other than it was the principle of the matter to not accept help from someone who kept hacking into his hotspot.

Michael always politely left whenever Draco confronted him about it, but there was nothing polite about doing it in the first place. He usually always had a page open to some disaster in the world, so Draco suspected he was some kind of reporter or journalist or at least someone very invested in catastrophic disasters.

The catastrophic disasters stopped. Or at least weren’t quite as catastrophic as they had been in the past. The catastrophic disaster of Draco’s personal life was continuing.

“That seems like a you problem,” Zabini said on the phone, sounding thoroughly distracted.

“It’s not a me problem!” Draco said indignantly. “It’s a him problem!”

Zabini made a humming sound that was entirely irritating because it was clearly just meant to placify Draco. Then, “Have you thought about just asking him why he does it?”

“Because he lives to be a pain in my arse,” Draco said grumpily, glowering out the window at the nicely sunny day.

“Maybe he wants to be a pain in your arse…” Zabini muttered.

Draco snapped to attention, wishing his friend was in front of him because the phone just wasn’t good enough. “What was that?”

“Nothing at all.” Zabini heaved a sigh. “I have to go. This contract’s being a pain in my arse. Keep me posted on what he ends up saying when you ask him why.”

“What makes you think I’m going to ask - Zabini! Don’t hang up!”

Zabini had hung up on him.

Draco glared at his phone, then tossed it onto the table and flung an arm over his face as he lay there on the couch.

Life was so difficult.

Nonetheless, Zabini’s suggestion bounced around Draco’s head. So by the time he next went to the coffeeshop, he found himself going up to Michael before he even realized what he was doing.

Michael looked a little surprised to be approached so soon, lifting his eyebrows. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Yet,” Draco said before he could rethink it.

Michael stared at him, his expression making Draco feel distinctly like a total ignoramus.

Clearing his throat, Draco decided to go all in for it. “Why do you keep hacking into my hotspot?”

It was very clear that Michael hadn’t expected that question. He blinked, setting down his coffee with a soft thump on the table. He leaned back in his chair, eyes dropping to his laptop, which was open to some page on the plastic pile in the ocean.

“Well?” Draco demanded when the silence stretched on too long to be natural.

“You should really do a better job with your passwords,” Michael said eventually.

It wasn’t an answer. Draco said as much.

Michael made a small face, then continued, “If you’d like, I could help you with that.”

“I think I do just fine on my own,” Draco answered immediately, only to immediately regret it when Michael gave him a look and a pointed silence that said exactly what he thought of that terrible lie.

The silence sat there, judging Draco.

Ugh. Why did Michael have to be so...good looking? It was difficult to be pissed off at him when he looked like...that. It was something Draco had carefully avoided thinking about but was now face to face with when Michael was just sitting there looking like that.

“Fine, maybe I could do with some help,” Draco admitted waspishly. “Are you offering?”

“Yes,” Michael said slowly. “I thought that was obvious?”

It was Draco’s turn to stare at Michael, though it probably wasn’t anywhere near as effectual as Michael’s stares. “Obvious?” he echoed dumbly. “How was it obvious?”

“I gave you advice,” Michael pointed out.

“Advice? What advice? They were insults!”

Michael looked a bit hurt. “They weren’t insults.”

Draco bit back his immediate response, which was to insist they had been insults, and reconsidered what he remembered of everything Michael had done to his poor, abused hotspot. After some more reflection, he had to admit that Michael had never really insulted him, just politely suggested that Draco get some help for security.

If it was an insult at all, it was very vague and only alluded to Draco’s lack of intelligence around technology.

Grudgingly, Draco conceded this point. “Fine. They weren’t insults. Does your offer of help still stand?”

Michael didn’t verbally respond, holding Draco’s gaze and nodding once.

Without waiting for an invitation, since Michael certainly hadn’t when hijacking Draco’s hotspot, Draco sat down in front of Michael and slapped his phone on the table. “Well, here I am. Accepting the help.”

If nothing else, maybe Draco could get his number and get something else out of this. Especially if Zabini’s guess was right…

(Spoiler: It was.)

#Anonymous #oh my god #this got long #harry potter #draco malfoy #michael #my writing #fic meme #inukagome15 answers #i'm sorry #there's not much coffee in this #there's stuff going on with the archangels #try and guess

32 notes · View notes

phaticserpent · 4 years

Note

may I request some angst with an s\o who almost dies trying to save ultron with a good ending

🥺 I hope you like it (sorry it took so long! I know it’s a bit basic, but I couldn’t think of anything)

Trigger warning: violence, cursing

You ended the phone call and glanced at Ultron, he won’t like this.

“What was it about?”

“Uh, apparently, our group was hired by Stark—“ you have never seen Ultron stand up that fast. “Before you say anything, they told us he’s going to be busy and we won’t see him.”

“Perhaps not but he has a tendency to flirt around. Doesn’t matter how busy he is, he’ll sneak in.”

“Ultron, I promise you, I won’t even go near him.”

“You don’t have to promise me anything.....just, be safe.”

“I will.” He pulled you in for a kiss and you snuck a hand around his neck, smirking as he melted under your touch. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Ultron smiled. “Now go, you’re going to be late!” He laughed. You left the condo, hailed a taxi to Stark Tower. Your engineer team was already there, with a few missing members.

“You must be [Y/N], nice to meet you. I’m Pepper.” She introduced. She guided the group to the lab, you grinned as your entire team gawked at the condition of the equipment. “I’m sure Mr. Stark will want to meet you all. You’re free to use anything in here. Good luck.” Within a few hours, everyone started building. The project was to try and limit pollution in every city, according to Stark, your group was the closest.

“The mastermind! [Not your name but something close], right?” Tony Stark himself strutted in.

“Uh, it’s [Y/N] sir.”

“Right! I like the way you think, your idea is impeccable and brilliant!”

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without them.” Tony waved at your teammates, who all swooned.

“Wow, you even went ahead and built it! You didn’t have to.” He inspected the draft, prototype and the final sketches.

“We know you’re a busy man.....so we thought we would save you the time.” You shrugged.

“My dear, you are, a lifesaver.” Tony praised. “Right, I’ll get out of your way! Good luck to you all!” Everyone waved goodbye to him as he left, only for him to jump back in.

“Oh, one more thing, if you ever need anything, Pepper is just down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” And with that, he was gone. One by one, your teammates disappeared as the sky darkened. You smiled at the fast pace and how much you accomplished, before checking the time. “Wow! May I offer you a ride home?” Tony appeared, you jumped in shock.

“Uhh no thank you.” You smiled. “I have enough money for a taxi.”

“No need. I’ll take you home, come on dear.” He started walking and you followed after him, a bit unsure. Stupid social anxiety.....he seems nice? The car was.....shiny and glorious. It was too luxurious for your taste.

“Uh, wow! That’s.....woah.”

“Doesn’t give off a lot of pollution, designed her that way. Get in!” He opened the passgender door for you and you politely climbed in. “So, where do you live?” You gave him your address and quickly texted Ultron.

[ So I’m in Stark’s car, he offered me a ride home.......don’t come out?? ]

[ Are you okay? ]

[ Yeah :,) I didn’t want to seem rude ]

[ Oh, [Y/N] ]

[ :P ]

[ I’ll see you soon ]

“Should I put on music?” Tony asked.

“Uh sure!” You smiled. When he tapped on the screen, your ears begged to turn it off. How loud does he listen to his music? Holy shit my ears.....I’m going to be deaf by morning. The entire ride was absolutely awkward. By the time you reached your house, you jumped out of the car. “Thank you for the ride!” Thinking it was the end until he got out.

“Wow! That is one pretty house. Do you live alone?”

“Uhhh I have a boyfriend.....he comes home late.”

“Figures. I’ll escort you to the entrance.”

“That’s okay!” But he didn’t listen. You knew he was being nice and cautious, however he melt making the entire situation uncomfortable. He took the elevator to your house, peeking inside. You could tell Ultron hid anything that gave away his identity and you let out a breath of relief.

“What does your boyfriend do?”

“He’s uh......a Doctor.” You immediately got a text.

[ A doctor? Seriously? O.o ]

[ Hey, you’d be a great doctor. Now shut up, it’s hard improvising ]

“Cool cool. I’m going to head out, I look forward to seeing your lovely face tomorrow. And that ass.” Tony winked at you. Before you could even register what happened, Ultron flew out of the room and tackled him.

“Say that again.” He growled. Ultron pushed Tony into a wall.

“I thought you were dead.” Tony coughed.

“Well, you failed.”

“So he’s your boyfriend? Damn.” Another cough. He extended his arm and something crashed through the window.

“Please stop!!” Your cries ended up on deaf ears. You stood there helplessly, wishing you had some kind of fighting ability. Both Ultron and Iron man flew out the window, wrestling with each other in the sky. You couldn’t help out other than clear the destroyed furnitures. You were unsure who was winning, until Tony crashed in the house. He aimed at Ultron and fired. You jumped to catch the blast, all you could feel was unbearable pain and your vision blurred. Your entire body twitched and breathing grew to be difficult.

“[Y/N]!” Ultron rushed to your aid. “Why? What would you do that?”

“I’ll take her to the hospital.”

“Don’t touch her.” Ultron clutched you closer and Tony pulled his hand back.

“You really love her......”

“And you took her from me.” Ultron cried. “You and the Avengers take everything! You could’ve left us alone......you could’ve left her alone.”

“I’m sorry.....I didn’t know you were her boyfriend!”

“Doesn’t give you the right to flirt or say something inappropriate about her body.”

“Okay, okay. But we’re losing time, we need to treat [Y/N]. If we don’t, she’ll die.” Tony exited his suit. “We need some medical supplies—“

“I already called a sentry.”

“So there’s more of you......great.”

“After Sokovia, I rebuilt myself and went into hiding. Thanks to you.”

“Stop arguing.” Your voice was weak and barely audible, but they managed to hear. “If I die, I’ll come back and kick both of your asses.” Ultron and Tony chuckled.

The sentry arrived rather quickly with S.H.I.E.L.D’s medical kit, which Tony gawked over. Once they were done, Ultron wrapped the wound with ace bandages and laid you on the couch, which was surprisingingly in a better condition than the other furnitures.

“I guess I have to pay for all......this.” Tony motioned to the destruction. “If......if you want, I can get Vision to restore you.”

“I’d rather avoid another encounter with the Avengers.”

“That’s understandable.” With that, he left. Ultron sat down.

“Why did you take that. You know I can withstand it, I have more bodies......it wouldn’t effect me.”

“I love you, dummy. I don’t want to see you die.”

“But I won’t.”

“Dummy, I said I would do anything for you. I would die for you.”

“You’re the ‘dummy’ here.” Ultron chuckled. “You scared me, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you were ever taken from me.”

“Lucky I have you.”

“It’s the other way around.” He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead. “You need to rest.....what kind of soup do you want?”

“I’ll eat anything you make.” You wiggled your brows.

“Food, [Y/N]. Food!”

“Yes, you’re a snack.”

#ultron #marvel #avengers age of ultron #so cheesy #goddamn #ultron is hot #ultron imagine #ultron/reader #ultron fic #ultron x reader #phaticserpentfanfics #phaticserpent #ask response #angst #ultron angst #i doubt some wholesome ultron and tony will ever happen

84 notes · View notes

a-funny-little-sunflower · 3 years

Text

Playing in the snow with Ghastly Bespoke at Christmas time.

You and Ghastly have been dating for about 9 months and he finally decided to allow the dead men to meet you. You and Ghastly travel up to a resort in the woods for Christmas. Everyone is excited by the snow, so you go out to play and a snowball fight ends up breaking out. You and Ghastly fall asleep in the snow while being cuddled up to each other and you somehow manage to fall asleep.] grá mo chroí – means My beloved in Irish

It was a beautiful December day in Ireland. The snow was fluttering all around the windows of the car and the freshly fallen snow was only broken by the wheels of the black Bentley as it rushed through the snowy forest. You were on your way to a cabin resort that had been rented out for you, Ghastly and the rest of the Dead Men. You were so happy to be celebrating Christmas with Ghastly. It would be your first Christmas together and you couldn’t wait to meet the rest of the dead men. You had only been introduced to one other dead man so far and that was the suave skeleton detective currently driving you to this resort, Skulduggery Pleasant

It was a funny story of how you and Skulduggery had first met. You and Ghastly had just started dating and Skulduggery decided to see what kind of person you were. You had just gotten home from working in your art studio and as you walked in the front door, you spotted a well-dressed skeleton sitting on your favourite chair.

After staring at it for about a minute, you walked over to it and began inspecting it. Especially the suit. As you were about to touch the hat the skeleton wore, the skeleton suddenly spoke.“Don’t touch the hat.” You jumped back in surprise and let out a small squeal.

The skeleton seemed to be unfazed by this and continued. “Skulduggery Pleasant. I’m here to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Ghastly Bespoke.” You nodded dimly and shakily sat down opposite him. It took you a moment to reply, but you managed. “A-ask anything you like.”

After about an hour of talking to Skulduggery, you started warming up to him. He spoke kindly to you and you relaxed as the conversation continued. Eventually, Ghastly arrived for the date you had arranged. As soon as he laid eyes on Skulduggery, he looked like he was about to punch him. “Skulduggery…” Ghastly growled. A beat of silence passed as Skulduggery’s gaze locked with Ghastly’s before he jumped out the window, leaving you and Ghastly to your date.

After this incident, a glorious friendship had blossomed between you and Skulduggery, hence the reason you were sitting in his car. You were pulled from your reminiscing by someone gently touching your shoulder. You turned your head to see your beloved Ghastly staring at you. “Hey, we’re almost there, how are you feeling?” You smiled over at him and squeezed his hand. “I’m fine Ghastly, just a bit nervous about meeting the rest of the dead men I suppose,” you said.“You have no need be nervous, everyone will love you”. Ghastly said. Skulduggery decided to pitch into the conversation with his usual wit.

“Exactly. I like you so that means that you are a woman of a high standard.” You laughed at his comment before once again staring outside to the snow fluttering all around you. “We’re about 20 minutes away from the resort, so it won’t be long until you can stretch your legs. “You nodded in silent confirmation before continuing to stare mindlessly out the window. Your mindless stare became intrigued when the resort came into view. It was large, and its roof was covered in snow. Smoke was billowing out of its chimney and as you got out of the car, you could see the distinct outline of a Christmas tree through the window. You felt Ghastly put his arm around your waist as he led you towards the resort.

As you walked through the door of the resort, the smell of burning Christmas cookies filled your nostrils and a few seconds later the insistent beep of a fire alarm sounded from the kitchen. You and Ghastly shared an amused look before a man with well-toned muscles sprinted out of the kitchen waving a towel over his head like a maniac. “Good God Vex can’t you make one meal at Christmas time without burning it?” Ghastly said in a teasing tone.

The man known as Vex had his back to you as he continued waving the towel and soon enough, the smoke disappeared from the room. After the atmosphere was cleared, Dexter turned to you two. His eyes landed on Ghastly first and he had an annoyed expression on his face. However, when his eyes landed on you, his face had surprise and confusion written all over it. “Who the hell is that?” he asked. A tall man with a knowing look in his eyes entered the room “That is Ghastly girlfriend, so I wouldn’t be too rude to her in case you scare her off.” The man walked towards you and offered his hand. “Sacrean Rue, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a smile. Skulduggery voice echoed from behind you. “If Vex isn’t allowed to use rudeness to drive her away, you aren’t to flirt with her, that’ll have her sprinting away in fear.” Sacrean rolled his eyes and said, “I know she’s already spoken for, even if I tried to flirt with her, I’m pretty sure Ghastly here would have my teeth knocked out before I could even finish a decent pick-up line.”

“None of your pickup lines are decent, Sacrean.” Ghastly quipped before turning to you. “Sweetheart you wanna go get settled in now? If you unpack fast enough, I’m fairly sure we could get out to the snow before it gets dark.” That brought a smile to your face and as you turned to retrieve your bags, you saw that Skulduggery was already holding them out for you. You take your bags from him and he says, “You’re upstairs, at the end of the hall, call if you need help. Ghastly and I are going to intimidate the rest of the group into not bugging you with questions about your relationship.”

You look at Ghastly with raised eyebrows, but his only reply is a shrug of his muscular shoulders before walking off, Skulduggery at his heels. Vex lets out a sigh. “The worst thing is that they aren’t even joking about the whole intimidation thing.” He shakes his head. “C’mon Sacrean, you’re gonna help me try to salvage whatever is left of those Christmas cookies.” Sacrean gives him an exasperated look before saying, “The only thing left of those cookies is ash”. Regardless, he still follows Vex into the kitchen.

You turn to your bags. Although you did try to pack light, you know you’re gonna have trouble getting them up the stairs. Against your better judgement, you decide to try and carry everything up the stairs in the one go, and by some Christmas miracle, you managed to get to the top of the staircase without collapsing. You let your bags fall from your shoulders before moaning with pain.

That was difficult.

“Are you alright? You turn your head to the soft voice coming from your left. It’s a tall man with dark hair and you must admit, he looks like a mixture between a funeral director and a vampire. You give him a tired but kind smile. “I’m alright, these bags are just a tad too heavy for me, but I only have to get to the bottom of the hall so no point complaining. The man glances at your luggage before striding toward you and lifting your bags with practised ease. “Allow me to help you.” You are surprised by this sudden act of hospitality but none the less you thank him and begin walking toward your room. “So does the staircase maiden have a name?” He asks. “Oh! Where are my manners, I’m Y/N.” He nods before saying, “Anton Shudder. I believe you are Ghastly’s partner then?”

You give a little nod before arriving at your door. “This is me! Thank you so much for your help, Anton.” You smile at him before taking your bags from him and stepping inside your room, remembering to half-close the door behind you for privacy. The room had a comfy looking king size bed with curtains around it, a desk, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, but the most elegant thing in the room would have to be the fireplace. It was made expertly from marble and it was just begging to be lit. You were too entranced in inspecting the room that you didn’t notice Ghastly stealthily enter. You only noticed him when he wrapped his arms wrapped around your waist and put his face was in the crook of your neck.

“Enjoying yourself darling?” His sudden appearance had made you jump and the bag in your hand dropped to the floor on instinct. “Easy on sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said softly. You turned around to face him and couldn’t help smiling when you saw his face and his soft expression. “You could never scare me.” You said as you wrapped your arms lovingly around his neck. This made him laugh before saying, “Well clearly I just did.” You smiled at him as you pressed your foreheads together. You stayed like that for a while. Holding each other. Staring into each other’s eyes. It was as if time had stopped. However, this peacefulness was interrupted by a banging at the door and a voice shouting, “Where’s the lucky lady!?” Ghastly’s reaction to this was to shut his eyes and groan in annoyance. “Go away, Larkin. It’s not the time.” The voice replied, “Why? Are you doing the mattress mambo? If you are, make yourselves decent cause I’m coming in!”

The door burst open and two men burst in. One man had beautiful golden eyes and the other had a large comedic smile on his face. The man with the cheeky grin stepped forward to introduce himself first. He offered his hand, saying “Hello, I’m Larkin!” You decided to take the man’s offer of a handshake and when you did, the sound of a whoopee cushion deflating filled the room, and Larkin's smile grew impossibly wider. “Whoopee cushion in the hand trick never gets old.” The man second man rolled his eyes at Larkin's behaviour, before stepping forward to introduce himself. He took your hand and kissed it. “Erskine Ravel my dear. A pleasure to finally meet you.” He said as he glanced up at you with those gorgeous golden eyes. From behind you, you heard Ghastly growl and you felt him put his arms around you from behind.

“Ravel, I thought we already had a conversation about this behaviour?” Ghastly said through gritted teeth. Ravel’s eyes met Ghastly’s and there was a standoff for a few moments. A standoff that Ghastly won. Ravel shook his head and said, “No need to turn all alpha male on me Ghastly, I’m dating Hopeless remember?” This didn’t convince Ghastly of anything and he pulled you to his chest.

“Hasn’t stopped you from flirting with every living thing to cross your path though has it?” Ghastly said his tone challenging. You sensed a fight coming and it seemed that Larkin did too because he was quick to jump into action. Larkin took hold of Ravel’s shoulder and began leading him out of the room. “It was nice seeing you two. Dinner will be in about an hour.” After Larkin managed to drag Ravel out, he shut the door and all that could be heard was the sound of retreating footsteps.

You turned to look at Ghastly whose muscles were still tense from bracing himself to throw a punch. You took his hand and turned his face to look at you. “Hey there gorgeous, we’ve got an hour to spare before dinner, what do you fancy doing?” He looked at you for a moment before a playful grin appeared on his face. “To be honest, I’m exhausted, and I fancy a nap.” A soft smile appeared on your face before saying, “Fancy some kisses with that? It would be a reward for not punching Ravel in the face.” He pretended to think about your offer for a few seconds before saying “That seems fair enough, and if you were wondering, I would have aimed to break his jaw.” You couldn’t help but laugh at this as you pulled him toward the bed. You kicked off your shoes and got under the covers for cuddles and kisses.

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

You were roused from sleep by Skulduggery softly shaking your shoulder. You rubbed your eyes and attempted to stretch but couldn’t because of Ghastly’s muscular arms keeping you in an embrace. When you looked up at Skulduggery questioningly it prompted him to say, “Dinner’s ready.” You nodded in confirmation and watched him walk out of the room. You turned to Ghastly to wake him up but hesitated. You longed to just lay here with him all day, but you knew that he would be disappointed if he wasted the day sleeping. To soften the blow of having to end cuddle time, you decided to give him his favourite wake up call. Butterfly kisses. You leaned forward and started placing soft kisses on his eyes. Eventually, he was roused from sleep and when he saw your face, he gave you a soft sleepy smile. He stared into your eyes for a moment before saying, “What did I deserve to get such a wonderful wake-up call?” You couldn’t help but laugh at him, every time you woke up beside him, he looked at you like you could create galaxies with a wave of your hand.

“Dinner’s ready my dear, we have to get up.” Ghastly groaned at this before rolling onto his side and put his arm over his face. “Do we have to? I just wanna stay here and sleep.” You rolled your eyes at him and decided that maybe you could tempt him. “Well if you don’t wanna come down I guess that I’ll have to play in the snow all by myself.” This caused him to take his arm away from his face and turn to you. “You wouldn’t dare…” A small smile appeared on your face. “Oh, but I would my dear.”Ghastly let out a breathy laugh before saying, “Alright, alright, I’m up.” He stretched out fully before pushing himself off the bed. You watched him for a moment before getting up and combing your hands through your hair in an attempt to make it look it presentable. You grabbed Ghastly’s hand and started walking down to the kitchen.

When you got downstairs, you were met with Sacrean eating mince pies in the living room while scrolling on his phone. You give a little knock to the doorframe to let him know about your presence and he looks at you like a deer in the headlights. He gulps down the rest of his pie and lets out a guilty chuckle. “Eh…. Nice nap…?” Ghastly shook his head at him and as he opened his mouth to speak, a snowball hit him right at the back of his head. You both span around to see Skulduggery standing there. There was a silent standoff for a moment before Skulduggery turned on his heel and sprinted out of the front door.

There was a sudden flurry of movement as Ghastly tore outside after Skulduggery and Sacrean let out what sounded like a war cry before darting outside after them. The war cries that Sacrean had uttered had everyone in the house responding to it because, in a matter of moments, every dead man was hastily pulling on coats and darting outside. You stood there in a state of shock and awe at the pure speed at which the dead men had run out of the house. You could hear the sounds of an all-out snowball war being waged. You could see snowballs being launched at fantastic speeds, then you heard it. Ghastly’s voice. “Y/N! Get out here! They’re pairing up out here and I need to have the best-looking partner!” Vex’s voice rang out, “Ghastly I don’t want to be your partner!” A chorus of laughter rang out as you sprinted out of the resort to meet Ghastly.

As soon as you got outside, you saw a scene of utter chaos unfolding. It seemed that people were already starting to form alliances. Larkin, Hopeless and Ravel were all on the one team, Anton, Vex and Sacrean were on another and Skulduggery was standing in the middle of it all. He looked to be on a team that consisted only of himself. But…. Where was Ghastly…? Out of nowhere, you felt someone grab your waist and haul your body backwords. At first, you thrashed and fought out of instinct but when you managed to crane your neck enough to see the face of whoever it was that had grabbed you, you saw a familiar scarred face. You locked eyes and you immediately relaxed in his arms. You allowed him to drag you back as you watched the chaotic scene of the snowball war unfold. Eventually, you felt Ghastly to bring you both to a stop and he pulled you behind a wall of snow that he had created. You both crouched behind it and began to create a game plan.

After a few minutes, you had a plan of attack. Ghastly run out and use his elemental power to manipulate the snow and air around him, and you would use your shield discipline to protect him. You pressed a kiss to his lips for a moment before he sprinted out and raised utter havoc, you kept your shield eyes on him as he caused snowballs to destroy every other dead man. Ravel was the first to get a face full. Probably revenge from earlier. The next two to go were Hopeless and Sacrean. Hopeless’ was thrown onto his back after Ghastly manipulated the snow from underneath him.

Ghastly’s next target was Larkin, who sensed he was next, and shape-shifted into you and begged for mercy. Ghastly took great pleasure in pelting him with snow. The remaining dead men – Anton and Vex- were doing their best to defend themselves but your shield held strong. Ghastly showed an evil grin and made a wave of snowballs appear behind. The look of utter terror on their faces would have you howling with laughter for weeks. You were mentally celebrating Ghastly’s victory before you realised. Someone was missing…. Skulduggery…

“Don’t move an inch.” Said a silky voice from behind you. You shuddered involuntarily. “Take down the shield protecting him…or else.” It was quite scary to hear Skulduggery talk like this, but you refused to show fear. “Never. This is my grá mo chroí we’re talking about.” There was a deadly silence between the pair of you as you stared out across the snowy ground. “If that’s how it is…” Suddenly his voice turned from a silky whisper to a powerful booming tone that could rival thunder. “GHASTLY BESPOKE OF THE DEAD MEN” He spoke as if he were addressing an enemy on the battlefield. “SURRENDER NOW AND I MAY STILL GRANT MERCY UPON THOSE WHO ARE AT MY FEET” Ghastly looked confused, what did he mean, at his feet? He was nowhere near him, then it hit him. You. He caught sight of your hair, just barely in view behind the snow barrier.

“Let her go Skulduggery!” Ghastly seemed to be leaning into this role of heroic knight about attempting to defeat the dark lord, and from how it seemed, you were the unwilling damsel in distress. “NOT UNTIL YOU SURRENDER! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE BEFORE SHE DIES!” Shouts of “Don’t do it!” and “He’s bluffing!”, were made by the dead men, you even thought you heard Larkin shout “Wouldn’t someone think of the children?” Skulduggery raised a gloved hand threateningly. “Last chance, your love or your life. Decide now.” You and Ghastly shared a look, and you could see in his eyes that he was readying himself for an attack, the last stand of a dead man. In a sudden flurry of movement, Ghastly lunged forward with his elemental discipline flaring and ready to protect you, but in that same moment, Skulduggery pressed down on the back of your neck and hit a pressure point.

This pressure on your neck caused your entire body to feel weak, and for the shield around Ghastly to cave in, leaving him without your protection. You desperately tried to warn him, but your voice had abandoned you, and there was stopping him or warning him of the incoming snowball from the left. You watch, almost in slow motion, as the snowball hit him square in the jaw, with enough force to knock him flat. For a moment, there was a shocked silence from everyone, before a chorus of empathetic groans echoed from the rest of the dead men. In all the excitement, Skulduggery had loosened his grip on you, and you immediately seized the moment and lunged for your fallen protector.

You turned him onto his back, placed your hands on his face, and began to tenderly rub your thumbs across his scarred cheeks. “Ghastly, my darling, are you alright?” You were genuinely concerned as the snowball had hit him with great force, and for a moment, you thought he had been too hard. But you were soon relieved of any worries when his eyelids fluttered open and you were greeted by his loving smile. “I’m just wondering now that you’re here.” You couldn’t help the loving smile from breaking out on your face, you could never stay angry at your love for long.

“Alright fellas let’s get inside and leave these love birds to themselves, I don’t wanna know what they do in their spare time.” There was a trickle of laughter that floated around in the air for a moment as the dead men made their way inside to the warm cabin, but neither you nor Ghastly made a move to join them. Instead, you flopped onto your back beside him and cuddled up against him, closing your eyes as you rest your head on his chest, and to your surprise, it was surprisingly comfortable. So comfortable, that you barely felt the first snowflakes descending from the sky onto your embracing forms as you drifted off to the land of dreams, with Ghastly not far behind. ---------------------- When you awoke once again for the second time that day, the sky was dark, the stars were shining and both you and Ghastly were still in an unmoving embrace, but now you were also enveloped by a thick coating of snow, so thick you could barely move, and the flurrying snowflakes all around made it difficult to see the cabin. As you turned your head, you saw that Ghastly was still sleeping. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t going to budge by his own accord unless you put a stop to this madness.

So, with a herculean effort, you managed to shove away the snow that had previously entrapped you, and although your entire body felt brittle and stiff, still you persevered. You managed to get onto your knees and get some leverage against the cold ground. You allowed yourself a moment to stare lovingly at Ghastly before you placed your freezing hand on his shoulder and started to shake him awake. “Ghastly. Ghastly! Ghastly Bespoke! Wake up! Wake up!”

He awoke with a startled breath and a panicked look on his face. His eyes darted around, look for any sign of danger that could have warranted such a frightening wake-up call. “Wha- What's wrong?” You felt a pang of guilt for waking him so rudely, but it was necessary, there was no time for butterfly kisses now. “Ghastly, we’ve been out in the snow for hours! Just look how dark it is already, we need to get inside!” Your tone must have been urgent enough for Ghastly to take heed because before you knew it, you on your feet and walking towards the cabin.“I can’t believe we slept out there” he chuckled, he seemed to be amazed at the fact that you both managed to ignore the cold in favour of finishing your nap from earlier. “Well to be fair, we were wrapped up in each other’s arms, so that explains how we stayed in the one spot for so long.”

“Hmmm” Ghastly replied, “Well if anybody in that cabin has got any sense, they will have lit a fire for us.” You shivered in anticipation at the thought of sitting by a warm fire, heaven knows you needed it after that little snowy stunt back there. “Oh God, Ghastly don’t get my hopes up.” Ghastly let out his signature sweet laugh at this, it sounded smooth and warm like melted chocolate, and you shuddered at the sound of it.

“Sorry darling, didn’t mean to be cruel.” Ghastly pushed open the cabin door and stood to the side, waiting for you to enter first. “Beauty before bravery, darling” You flushed a tad at his remark and cheeky smile but entered first none the less. He shut the door after you and followed your lead to the bedroom. As you walked, you prayed to every deity you could think of that the fire would be lit, and fortunately for you, your prayers had been answered.

Waiting for you in your bedroom was a crackling fire, as well as some thick woollen blankets that were sitting at bottom of the bed. You quickly lunged for them, alongside some pillows, and brought them to the front of the fireplace, where you began creating a nest that would be large enough for both Ghastly and you. Ghastly managed to coax you to get changed before you settled yourself, and you were sure you had never gotten changed faster because before you knew it, the pair of you were cuddled in front of the fire.

The fire crackled like a sweet melody and you could feel yourself drifting off, but you were fighting it valiantly because you wanted to appreciate this moment with your sweetheart. Ghastly seemed to sense this and cuddled into it, almost as if he were trying to envelop you.

Ghastly gently nuzzled his head into your neck softly, and you could feel his gentle breath fanning your neck, it was a comforting feeling. “Darling close your eyes. Enjoy the fire and relax. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You couldn’t stop your eyelids from starting to slide closed. “There we go sweetheart, shut your eyes and sleep.”Your eyes shut completely and the last thing you remember before drifting off completely was the warmth of the fire and Ghastly pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

#ghastly bespoke #Ghastly Bespoke x reader #skulduggary pleasant

10 notes · View notes

rwbyvein · 3 years

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 803: Échecs: Part II/III

Jaune walked into the tower, wiping the tears out of his eyes. "Are you alright, Leader?" Ren asked him.

"I don't know if I'll ever be..." Jaune sadly stated.

"Is there something we can do to aid you?" Ren asked.

"I don't know, something to take my mind off of things." Jaune said with a sigh.

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Blake asked, head laying on Yang's bossom.

"I don't know what makes you think something's wrong?" Yang nervously asked.

"How about the fact I can hear your heartbeat?" Blake asked. "Or the fact I can see when you're wounded."

"What makes you say?.." Yang tried to say.

"Don't lie to me." Blake said to her.

"Promise, you won't, like, laugh, or anything?"

"You know I wouldn't do that." Blake stated.

"You sure?" Yang asked.

"I'm sure." Blake said, "Say what you need to say."

"Okay, so, if I hadn't blurted about this whole family thing, do you think I could have gotten Jaune?"

"Do you mean, could you have beaten the rest of us?" Blake asked.

"Exactly."

"Well, at least you knew he was interested in you. I didn't even think I was on his radar."

"I think we all were." Yang said, "Except Linnet. I mean, she was always his Snow Angel. But seriously, what exactly do I bring to this family? I mean, Ruby's the leader, Weiss does all the finances. Jaune, Ren, and Little Bit do all the cooking. I mean, like, what do I?.."

"Do you really forget about the hug in Beacon?" Blake asked her, snuggly up to Yang's breasts.

"Hm?"

"When you pulled me aside, told me to not try so hard or all I'll end up doing nothing but burning myself out?"

"Okay, there was that."

"You're the mama-bear." Blake stated.

"You think so?" Yang asked.

"You spend all of your time looking after everyone else. Ruby might be our leader, but you are the one we always leaned on. You were always there for us, even when we didn't deserve it..."

"What do you mean?" Yang asked.

"I mean I ran away, and before that I pretty much ignored everyone... No, I didn't ignore you, I insulted you, I attacked you, all because of my desire to self-destruct, and take everyone with me. You ask about yourself, but what about me? If you hadn't made the first move, I might have never known I had a chance with Jaune, with you, with..."

Yang wrapped her arm around Blake's waist. "What the hell would he see in me?"

"I might not be the one to answer that question, but I could hazard a guess. Two guesses to be specific."

"So?.." Yang dejectedly asked, "They're the only things I have?"

"You have your fire." Blake replied, "Your unbreakable beauty. Every place you go, you act like you own. I can barely be in your presence without being drawn to you."

"You think so?" Yang asked.

"And what about me?" Blake asked, "I'm surprised anyone ever noticed me. Somehow you and your sister did on the first night."

"Oh, come on, you were always so cute... and enthralling..."

"Do I have other potential suitors?," Blake asked, "afraid to talk to me."

"You had Sun." Yang said.

"Don't remind me." Blake said, and pulled her shoulders forward. "My mother liked him more than I did."

"Does that mean your heart might have been pinin' for someone else?" Yang playfully asked.

"Maybe?" Blake coyly replied. "You all meant so much to me. I can't believe even Jaune was missing me, but..."

"But?" Yang asked.

"But, the night... that night... Before I left, he looked me in the eyes."

"And?.." Yang asked.

"And, it's like my entire soul did outpour. Like our souls, for that one moment, were joined. He knew I was leaving, and knew he couldn't stop me, but knew I hated every moment of it."

"And you?" Yang asked.

"Felt loved." Blake simply stated.

"And even with that you- you doubt him?"

"I didn't think I would ever see him again, though, knowing him, if the others didn't need him, he probably would have come for me."

"I'm sorry I had to get fucked up." Yang stated.

"How could you?.."

"Because if I didn't need him, he could have?.."

"He would have..." Blake stated, "After he helped Ruby with her quest and rescued Weiss from Atlas."

"That actually sounds like one hell of a ride." Yang stated. "Too bad our little Contrary rallied her own army to come and help us."

"It wasn't an army." Blake said with a bright smile, "Just civilians. They wanted to prove that the White Fang didn't stand for them."

"If you hadn't shown up, who knows what would have happened?" Yang asked.

"With Haven?"

"With Jaune." Yang said with glee. "You were the final piece. With you, it just made sense, you know?"

"I don't know how this makes sense to you..." Blake voiced.

"It just feels right, doesn't it?" Yang asked.

"Mmm." Blake affirmed. "It feels like home. At home, in Menagerie, I just couldn't," she said and paused, "spread my wings. But here, this is OUR home, we get to decide what we do with it."

"And apparently Jaune wants to grab all of our worst enemies, and make friends."

"Did you want him to stop?" Blake asked.

"Of course not." Yang stated. "Ruby's doing something big. Jaune's doing something big. And we get to be here for every moment of it."

* * *

"Horsey," Ruby stated, "to uh, pointy-hat-four."

"First of all," Weiss stated, "that is a knight, second it's bishop, not point-hat, and third horseys cannot move that way."

"But, you said they move in L's?" Ruby asked.

"Not just any L," Weiss replied, "two squares in one direction, and one square in another."

* * *

Ren and Nora walked up the stairs to the library with Jaune slumping up behind them.

"Weissy!" Nora shouted, and Weiss looked up from her game to glare at Nora.

"Leader wants something to take his mind off of..." Nora stated, and Weiss sat up properly.

"And what do you propose?" Weiss asked them.

"We were thinking a game of Remnant." Ren stated, and Ruby put down her chess pieces and sat up eagerly.

"Well, I suppose we know how Darling feels about this." Weiss said, looking at Ruby.

"I know I said I was going to..." Ruby tried to say.

"Yes, yes." Weiss said. "Perhaps there is game I should learn as well." She then turned to JNR, "If memory serves me, the game requires a considerable board. Do we have one?"

Nora and Ren looked back at Jaune. "What?" Jaune asked, "You think I know everything about our, uh, castle? I don't even know where the cell keys are."

"Pfft." Nora stated.

"Do you know where it is?" Ren neutrally asked.

"Oh, yeah" Jaune replied, and pointed to a bookshelf on the far side with what looked like a small crate atop it.

"Precisely how old is this game?" Weiss asked.

"I don't know?" Jaune asked, "Like forever?"

"Since after the Great War." Ren stated, "Though there have been later editions, like the one you were playing in Beacon."

"So?" Ruby asked, "Atlas won't have an airfleet?"

"Oh?" Jaune asked, "Atlas had an airfleet from right after the Great War. It was, like, one of the first things they did."

"Atlas has always loved inplacability." Ren said with a smile.

"Question?" Weiss asked, "We have more than four?"

"Teams, obviously!" Ruby exclaimed.

"Me and Ren!" Nora exclaimed.

"Then I will pair with Jaune!" Weiss firmly replied.

"Just think you can't win without our Glorious Leader?!" Nora exclaimed.

"Well?" Weiss asked and paused, "Yes. I am the least experienced with the game, so it's only reasonable that I should be paired with one of the strongest."

"And Yang?" Ruby asked.

"Too strong." Weiss simply replied.

"She has a point." Ren stated.

"We will need the rest of our comrads." Weiss stated, and stood up proudly.

"If you will setup the board," Ren stated, "we will retrieve them?"

"I'm on Blake's team!" Ruby exclaimed. "Sis is going down!"

* * *

Ren knocked on the door to the master's suite.

"Yo?!" Yang shouted.

"We have been sent to retrieve you!" Ren shouted through the door.

"Sis is going down!" Nora added. A few moments later the door opened.

"What did she say?!" Yang asked.

"That you're going down!" Nora replied.

"Name the time and place." Yang firmly said to them.

"In - the - library!" Nora replied.

"Oh, it's on."

Blake smiled as she appeared next to Yang.

6 notes · View notes

aceademic · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 & 2.5 of Band on The Run

Feel free to bash me intensely. Here is Chapter 2 and Chapter 2.5 (mini chapter) from the one and only liz! Enjoy!

Chapter 2

“You see that one?” Mom whispered in my ear, pointing to the far east.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“That’s where your Dad is,” she said. I turned to look at her. She had long and flowy dirty blond hair and the most intricate hazel eyes I had ever seen. There was a sort of glint in them, nostalgic and sad but also . . . wistful. The way she looked then, it made me almost believe what she was saying. Almost.

I gave a small pause. Unsure. “Is that so?” I asked eventually. Pops had told me that the doctors said that Mom developed selective amnesia because when my Dad ran off on her, it was too hard for her to deal with. So now she’s delusional with the idea that our father was a man from space that had to go back to his home planet. She never gave a reason why, her answer to that question was always, ‘He’s not gone forever. He’ll come back. He always does.’

“Yeah,” Mom whispered. “And when he does we’ll take the car out to the fields and sing Brandy at the top of our damn --”

“Geddup!”

I jolted upward and blinked, realizing it was just a dream and I was not at home, but in fact, in a spaceship. My heart sunk to the very depths of my inner ocean of self-pity as I pulled on my jacket.

“Give me a minute!” I answered. I heard rustling and saw Peter climbing out of the small bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Clean yourself up and meet me outside, okay?”

Peter nodded sleepily and I left the room, closing the door behind me. And there was standing Kraglin. He was wearing the exact same thing as yesterday and he look as fresh and awake as morning dew.

“Mornin’,” he said awkwardly.

“What’s going to be our orders?” I asked him, jumping straight to the point.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’ll have to find out yourself when we get to the hull.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his second-in-command or whatever?” I asked dubiously.

“Just cause I’m his first mate don’t mean that he tells me everything,” he answered. “He’s a very private person.”

“I’m ready.”

Peter must have slithered his way to my side, because the door was now ajar, and Peter’s hair was slightly less mussy than it was before. I ruffled his hair anyways.

I stared in amazement as we entered the hull. The walls had veins that pulsed an eerie, vivid red and the walls were a dark, shadowy grey. Chairs, consoles and neon green screens surrounded me. In the chairs were all different types of aliens talking in headsets and taping the consoles, speaking to each other in a language had never heard before. Alien technology scattered the room, and my gaze set upon the crowd of crew members standing by a window with a breathtaking view of the peace of space. They seemed to be staring, whispering and pointing at me and Peter, as if they had never seen a human before. Some frowned, some seemed curious, and some made me want to punch them repeatedly in the face – or faces, because apparently some aliens have two heads.

Kraglin led me to the back where everyone was, and kindly guided us to the back corner where we would get less weird looks. After a few more of the crew hurried in, I noticed Yondu, sitting on a big, comfy captain’s chair, staring down at us all.

“Everyone, meet your new crewmates, Avery and Peter Quill!” Yondu shouted, holding an arm out in our direction. Everyone turned to look at us. So much for being discreet.

“I thought we were giving them over --” a man started, but Yondu shushed him, very loudly might I add.

“I don’t want another word out of your mouth Horuz, or I’ll scrub it clean in the canteen,” Yondu hissed. Some of the men snickered and the other went immediately silent, looking absolutely furious. “If you don’t like how I run things around here, you can get your skinny ass up and leave, you hear?”

It seemed that either no one heard, or no one wanted to leave.

“Good.” A pause. “Gef, Yorker, I want you in the training room. You’re getting to fat for my liking. Retch, Halfnut, Scrotch, I want you on canteen duty. Oblo, Narblik, Huhtar and Tullk, I want you on hallway duty on deck 10 . . .”

The list continued, and as he called out names, people left the room to go to their assigned stations until it was just me, Peter and Kraglin.

“Kraglin, I want you to show them littles around the ship and when you’re done, I want them to go to Rof’in in the training room. He’ll know what to do.”

Kraglin nodded and led us out of the hull. “All right, let’s start with the tour. There are 10 decks in total. Right now, we’re on deck one, all the way at the bottom.”

He started show us around the first deck. We passed the brig, which was where I was kept when I was unconscious, and we went into the hold, muster station, and a small saloon. I made a mental note of what each room was and its purpose. We continually went up, going through the quarterdecks (two whole decks just for where the cabins are), the training room, the turret (which I have to admit was pretty cool), medbay, the promenade deck, the canteen, multiple saloons, the galley, the escape hatches and small bays holding random equipment and such. One oddly contained a whole assortment of mini figurines (most of which were broken).

As we made our way back to the hull, Peter’s stomach grumbled. Kraglin and I both looked at him. I had forgotten I was hungry. I had forgotten that we needed food. For the glorious bliss that was 1 hour, I had forgotten that I was kidnaped and that my head hurt and that my mother was dead and pretended that my good friend Kraglin was showing me around a spaceship. The fierce rage of fire that roared inside me returned along with a loud grumble of my stomach.

“We can stop by the canteen on our way back to the training room,” Kraglin offered. We both nodded hungrily, and I wondered what aliens ate. Probably not grilled cheese.

When we entered the canteen, it was mostly empty except for the people who were working there, cleaning dishes and mopping the floor. No one looked up. There were refrigerators nailed into the wall, full of silver packets and water bottles.

“We don’ get fresh food often, so we eat these,” Kraglin told us, opening a refrigerator door and pulling out 2 packets, turning them over to read something on the back. “Today’s Flicodian tentacles. Should have a similar taste to – what’s that meat thing you eat?”

“Chicken?” Peter asked. Kraglin shook his head.

“No, no, it started with a T.”

“Turkey?” I asked. Kraglin nodded. He walked over to some built in cabinets and pulled out two bowls, opening the packet and squeezing out what looked freeze-dried octopus tentacles. He went over to a nearby tap, and filled the bowls up, sticking them in what looked like some sort of microwave. When the timer beeped after a minute, he pulled the two bowls out, releasing a hearty aroma that did indeed smell a lot like turkey, and Peter and I found ourselves sitting at the long tables in the room, scarfing down the tentacles as if they were our last meal. Kraglin watched in amusement. I put down my fork.

“What?” I asked. He jumped in surprise, and suddenly the wall became very interesting.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. I shrugged, and continued to shove food down my throat, ad sat back happily when the last remnants of food were gone, and the bowl was empty. Back then, I didn’t notice the pink tint that haunted his cheeks.

Chapter 2.5

Nebula kicked the punching bag. She kicked it again. Her father had given her another mission. And she wasn’t sure she would be able to complete it this time. At least she had Gamora to help. She kicked the bag again. Gamora wasn’t going to help. She would ruin her chances of ever completing it to keep up her status as most-favorable child. The star, his little-one. Nebula started to punch it repeatedly and finished it off with a roundhouse kick. It flew off its chain, and Nebula huffed, grabbing a bottle of water from the corner. She ignored the green alien with blue hair leaning against the doorway.

Nebula didn’t like the hair. This was the 5th time Gamora had attempted dying it and now it was a dark, ocean blue. It didn’t suit her.

“I know your upset with me,” Gamora said. She entered the room, her arms folded across her chest. Nebula gave another little huff, but other than that she screwed the bottle cap onto her bottle without a glance and went to pick up the punching bag.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Gamora said, her voice tense. Nebula turned to look at her with furious eyes.

“There is always a choice,” Nebula hissed. A ray of sunlight hit Nebula, and the silver prosthesis on her head glistened, causing Gamora to look away. “You had a choice not to fight me. To stand up to our fath – to him.”

She corrected herself. It was still hard for her to call him her father, the man who had slaughtered her family, her brother, her entire home planet. He who called her weak and worthless and forced her into impossible missions that almost always caused her to have to team up with Gamora, that back-stabbing wench of a sister. He who ripped out her eye for simply not besting her sister in a fight.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Gamora mumbled, grabbing her arm subconsciously. Nebula broke eye contact, grabbing the punching bag and attaching a new clip onto it, attaching it back to the screw in the ceiling.

“Did you need anything else, sis?” Nebula added a sneer on the last word, making Gamora’s stomach wretch horribly, her brows furrow and her heart twist.

“No.”

It was a lie.

#submission

2 notes · View notes