#like if I had friends over for... idk... soups..... I would give them small spoons without even thinking about it
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me and my small spoons against the world
#almost EVERYONE reblogging that spoon post saying they eat with big spoons I can't believe this#shaken to my very core#one time they did a mbmbam bit about big/ small spoons and it was the first time I ever even thought to consider the alternative#like if I had friends over for... idk... soups..... I would give them small spoons without even thinking about it#those are The Spoons For Eating??#would I be doing them a disservice? is this why fancy table setting includes two spoons (disclaimer I know it isn't but)#anyway my beloved friends if I ever have you over for ice cream the spoons will be arranged in a vase for you to select from at your leisure#including serving spoons and demitasse spoons who am I to judge#about me
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idk If you are still accepting prompts for the soulmate au or not but if you are, can we see WWX comforting LWJ after finding out LWJ has also lost his soulmate please >_<
(P.S it's such an interesting concept!!!)
Lan Zhan was wearing mourning robes.
Lan Zhan came to Yiling in the plainest, roughest robes Wei Ying had ever seen touch his jade-white skin, and the only ornament on his body was the Lan passage token hanging at his waist.
Even the spired silver headpiece was gone, leaving Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon to hold his hair by itself.
Although he still can’t quite fathom why, Wei Wuxian was so startled at the sight of his friend’s somber face that he hid behind Jiang Cheng when Lan Zhan tried to make him come back to Gusu for punishment, which resulted in Lan Zhan trying to lure him out again like a frightened animal and then holding his hand all the way back to the Jiang camp.
(Wei Wuxian isn’t going to think about that, though. His crush on Lan Zhan doesn’t mean anything, because his sworn zhiji--the one who knows him, even if his dead soulmate never got the chance to--has a fated sweetheart of his own.)
But the question of Lan Zhan’s mourning garments remained unsolved, and it takes a good four days for Wei Wuxian to figure it out by observing the strange new kindness all the other Lan disciples seem to be treating him with.
His uncle must have been killed, he realizes, after they travel from Jiangling to Qinghe and reconvene with the rest of their allies. Lan Qiren’s golden core was bound to the wards around Lotus Pier, so if Wen Xu tore it down...
Or else Lan Xichen was the one who was dead, which would be objectively worse. But Lan Xichen turns out to be very much alive when Wei Wuxian walks into Nie-zongzhu’s meeting room, and his robes are the pale blue of an early summer morning, just as they were in Gusu; so Wei Wuxian is forced to admit defeat, and sulk at Jiang Cheng’s side until his Shijie pulls him aside later that day to give him a laden dinner tray.
“Shijie, I can’t eat all this!” he laughs, smiling at the pot of pork-rib soup (with mushrooms instead of lotus roots, since mushrooms are the vegetable of choice in the Unclean Realm) and a bowl of steaming greens, which looks very much like something they might have had in Gusu--but better-tasting, of course, because Jiang Yanli had cooked it instead of the Lan kitchen staff.
“It’s not just for you, A-Xian,” she scolds. “Lan-er-gongzi hasn’t been eating much lately, and Zewu-jun asked me to send you to cheer him up a little. Will you go?”
Wei Wuxian’s heart begins aching again at the memory of Lan Zhan dressed in mourning white, but he only nods and lets Yanli plant a kiss on his cheek before wandering away to the guest house where Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen are quartered--close by Nie Mingjue’s quarters, since Zewu-jun has his own set of rooms there, but elected to remain with his brother instead to help him through his grief.
After he passes through the little rock garden in the courtyard, Wei Wuxian hears the soft notes of Lan Zhan’s guqin on the other side of the wall--playing what sounds like Inquiry, the spirit-questioning music--but then the qin goes silent, right before the door slides open to reveal a tall figure in silver and blue standing behind it.
“Young Master Wei,” Lan Xichen greets him, stepping back to let Wei Wuxian in and slipping out into the garden after he crosses the threshold. “How kind of you to visit! Wangji, look who’s come to see you!”
Lan Zhan looks up from his qin with black-rimmed eyes and inclines his head. “Wei Ying.”
What made you like this, Lan Zhan? Wei Wuxian thinks desperately, sliding gracefully to his knees at Lan Xichen’s writing desk to lay out the dinner dishes. Who’s been taken from you, sweetheart? It’s not Lan-xiansheng, and not your brother, so who?
“You’re in luck tonight, Lan Zhan!” he chirps instead, filling a bowl with Yanli’s steaming soup and trying not to sigh in relief when Lan Zhan comes over to sit beside him. “Shijie sent you her famous soup, so you’d better not hurt her feelings by not eating enough, all right?”
“Many thanks to Jiang-guniang,” his friend says quietly, serving himself some of the greens. “And to you, Wei Ying.”
“Eat a little more,” Wei Wuxian urges, as Lan Zhan starts picking at the greens like a small, exhausted bird picking at a heap of grain. “You can’t keep your strength up like this, ah? Here, open your mouth, and I’ll feed you.”
He doesn’t have the slightest idea what possessed him to make such an offer--or what possessed Lan Zhan, that he would take it--but Lan Zhan parts his lips obediently, and Wei Wuxian slips a spoonful of soup between them and watches in perfect contentment as he swallows the rich broth down. “That’s better,” he coaxes, filling the bowl to its rim again and passing Lan Zhan the rice. “We’re fighting, you know, and you can’t do that without food no matter how strong your cultivation is.”
But then he freezes with the rice paddle in his hands and blinks, because Lan Zhan is holding his chopsticks up in front of his mouth in turn.
“...Lan Zhan?”
“Eat the greens,” Lan Zhan tells him, and refuses to move until Wei Wuxian snatches the clump of water spinach with his teeth and chews it into mush. “You must keep your strength up, too.”
Lan Zhan’s ears are burning red, and Wei Wuxian’s heart skips another beat as he takes the game a step further, leaning across the table with his own teacup so that his friend can drink from it. “Then--then, Lan Zhan, you have to drink the tea! Go on!”
They finish the rest of the meal this way, feeding each other and smiling behind their chopsticks when someone gets flustered and turns away--but they always turn back to each other again, and again, until the pots of soup and rice and spinach are sparkling clean.
“There,” Wei Wuxian whispers, when Lan Zhan takes a clean silk handkerchief from his sleeve and offers it to him across his upturned palms. “Don’t you feel much better now?”
“Much better,” Lan Zhan whispers back, his cheeks flushing like new spring flowers as Wei Wuxian gets back to his feet. “Thank you, Wei Ying.”
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The Flu - SakuAtsu
Writing this for my wonderful friend’s bday !! Sorry it’s posted so late whooops also this is short af bc I might do a part 2 or something idk
Summary: Omi gets the flu, which is a rare occurrence, and Atsumu goes to take care of him. Pure fluff
Background: Sakusa is attending college in Tokyo and Atsumu is still playing volleyball in his home town so like still a commute for them
Omi never got sick. Man was one of the most careful people in the world — he always wore his mask when he was out and about around large groups of people, carried hand sanitizer with him and sanitizing wipes to clean off any surface he may have to touch (the handles on the train, for instance), and made an effort to keep his home spotless, even wiping down groceries as they made their way through the door.
So when he did get sick, it kicked his ass.
The last thing he needed was to get sick now, with an exam in a little less than a week. He had outlined what he needed to study, but hadn’t actually gotten to studying yet. And it wasn’t a cold... his high fever, chills, and congestion made it very clear to him it was the flu.
What was he going to do though? He had to skip class. At least today was a Friday, so he could spend the weekend recovering. He grabbed his phone and texted Komori, begging him to bring some medicine because he couldn’t imagine pulling himself out of bed.
He hated asking people for help, or showing any sort of weakness. That’s why when Atsumu texted him, he proceeded through their conversations like usual, trying to conceal the fact that he was sick until he finally passed out from exhaustion, leaving Atsumu’s texts hanging.
Omi never left the conversation abruptly. It made Atsumu uncomfortable, but he ignored it. He was probably studying. Still, he sent him a few messages to get back to him as soon as possible.
When a few hours had passed, he asked Komori if he knew what was up, and that’s when the cat was out of the bag: Sakusa Kiyoomi was sick.
It was the weekend, so it wasn’t like Atsumu had any priorities. He packed his bag, strapped on a mask, and took the train to Tokyo.
He always traveled this trip with a mask for Omi. His boyfriend was always so careful that he’d feel like a jerk for giving him a sickness he picked up on the trip because he hadn’t been careful. His boyfriend had, admittedly, rubbed off on him just a little—trains were gross and unsanitary and he couldn’t help but think about it from time to time during the trip.
His first stop in Tokyo was at a pharmacy near Omi’s house. He purchased some canned soup (there was no way he’d be able to make anything from scratch... he was... himself), medicine, a few boxes of tissues, the hand sanitizer Omi liked, and some ice cream for good measure. The next stop was to Omi’s place.
It was a good thing they had gotten locked out that one time and his boyfriend told him about the key he hid in the flower planter. He didn’t have to wake the sick man up at all to enter the house.
“Omi Omi!?” He called, not actually expecting an answer. It was pretty clear that he had been napping, and was likely still asleep. He just hoped his boyfriend wouldn’t hear him moving around and think someone had broken in (although technically, he had).
He went to the kitchen and wiped down his groceries with Clorox wipes to make sure they were sanitary before putting them away. He pulled open one of the drawers to grab a piece of notebook paper to write to his boyfriend.
Hi Omi <3 I’m in the shower. Love you lots.
Tsumu
That would be fine for now. He slid the paper under Omi’s bedroom door and went in the direction of the bathroom. He had to make sure he washed away anything he could have picked up on the train.
He liked using Omi’s body wash — it smelled like lavender. He had never been huge on the scent in the past, but now it made him feel all warm and fuzzy, associating it with his boyfriend’s scent. He made sure to wash every square inch of his body, leaving nothing up to chance, but still tried to get done as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to keep his boyfriend waiting (more like even though he knew his boyfriend was sick, he couldn’t wait to see him... it had been two months already since their last hangout).
He turned off the shower and shook some water out of his hair, going into his bag for a fresh, clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He pulled on the outfit then made his way to his boyfriend’s bedroom, knocking quietly on the door before entering.
Omi was passed out in bed, his phone next to him, blanket covering half his body. Atsumu strolled over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it next to his peaceful-looking boyfriend. He very gently placed his hand on the sick boy’s forehead, then put his other hand on his own forehead to compare. Yep. He was definitely warm. He tucked a stray hair off of Omi’s forehead and gently took his arm away.
He was going through a crisis of whether he should wake his boyfriend and inform him of his presence or not. He looked so relaxed, and it was probably hard to fall asleep to begin with. But also, he was very worried Omi would groggily beat the shit out of him when he woke up because he was afraid he was an intruder.
Yeah, sounded like his mind was made up.
He shook the man’s shoulder carefully. “Omi,” he whispered, trying to wake him gently. Luckily it worked, as the latter’s eyes peeled open slowly. “Hi,” Atsumu whispered.
“Tsumu?” He asked, his voice hoarse.
“Ya coulda told me you were sick,” Atsumu playfully complained, leaning forward to kiss his boyfriend’s forehead. “I was all worried.”
“I’m okay,” he frowned, but he knew that playing it cool wasn’t working. His throat felt all ticklish and he started to cough.
“You haven’t gotten sick since what? Middle school? Ya need someone to take care of you.”
“I don’t wanna make you sick...” Sakusa whispered, his eyes shutting.
“You won’t. Even if you do, though, I’m a big boy and get sick all the time too, so I’m used to it.”
“Fine. I don’t want you making me more sick because you were out,” Sakusa grumbled. It was clear he was actually concerned about his boyfriend’s health, but sometimes speaking this way was the only way to get it through to Atsumu. Tsumu was somehow the most arrogant and selfless jerk he had ever met.
“I wore a mask on the train and everything! Sanitized the groceries, took a shower before I came in here. All for you Omi,” Atsumu explained proudly, his back straightening a little bit as he spoke.
“Mm whatever,” Omi mumbled. He still hadn’t opened his eyes from when he shut them earlier. “Can we go to sleep now?”
“You want me to too?”
Sakusa reached out and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand, pulling it closer to him. “Cm’ere and lay down. This is the only time in your life you get to be big spoon.”
Atsumu carefully clambered over his boyfriend to the other side of the bed, plopping down beside him eagerly. He was trying to not make too many motions that might shake the bed and make his boyfriend nauseous, but he was extremely cuddle deprived and would be lying if he said he wasn’t on cloud nine. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “Sleep tight Omi. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Omi slept like a rock for a few hours. Atsumu took a nap with him, woke up, went on his phone, checked up on his boyfriend, and those sorts of things. It had probably been about three hours when Sakusa started moving, tossing and turning and trembling.
“Omi? You okay?” He asked, reaching over to feel his boyfriend’s forehead for a temperature. It felt even warmer than before.
Atsumu clambered out of bed, rushing to the kitchen to get an ice pack and a glass of water. When he returned, Omi was now mumbling in his feverish state.
“Atsumu...”
Atsumu rushed to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed. He carefully put the ice pack on his boyfriend’s head, holding it in place despite Omi’s sudden movements.
“I’m here Omi. It’s okay.”
“Don’t...” he whispered.
He pushed the sweat-coated hair off his boyfriend’s forehead so he could get the ice pack on well. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better...”
“Omi? Are you dreaming or talking with your eyes shut? You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m sorry...”
“That’s not helpful for my question honestly.”
“Don’t go...” he sniffled, inhaling heavily, the congestion making it hard to do so.
“Dreaming it is.” Atsumu shook him gently, trying to wake him up. “Get up Omi, it’s just a dream.”
His eyes snapped open, then blinked furiously, a few tears escaping as he did so. “Tsumu?”
“It’s okay. I’m here. It was just a dream,” Atsumu cooed softly, dropping the ice pack and opting cup his face gently and stroke the tears off his cheek.
Sakusa sat up, scooting to his boyfriend to give him a hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Had a dream you left. Said you didn’t love me,” he muttered. “I was still sick and everything.”
“I’d never do that.” Atsumu kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“I know. But I’m sorry Dream Atsumu did that.”
Omi laughed, a pitiful laugh that sent him into a coughing fit, but a laugh nonetheless.
“Oh! Let me check your temperature. You feel warm,” Atsumu remembered, scrambling out of his boyfriend’s grip to run to the bathroom cupboard and grab a thermometer. He quickly returned to his spot, sweeping his legs to plop down on the bed. He held the thermometer out towards his boyfriend. “Say ‘aw’.”
Sakusa sighed, rolling his eyes, then opened his mouth and let out a small ‘aw’. Atsumu put the thermometer in his mouth and waited patiently, silently, as the temperature was being read.
“102. Why is your thermometer in Fahrenheit?”
Sakusa laughed. “I didn’t realize it was when I bought it.”
A Google search later told the two that it was, indeed, a fever, but he would be okay.
“You sure you’re alright? You wanna take some more medicine and go back to sleep?” Atsumu offered, laying back on the bed.
“Not yet. I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”
Atsumu paused, a small smile forming on his face.
“What is it Miya? You’re scaring me...” Sakusa asked, averting his gaze from the blonde’s.
“You know what’ll help your fever? Ice cream. If you’re up for it, I bought a pint.” Atsumu offered, looking up at his boyfriend with a very small pleading look that said ‘please give me ice cream or I’ll cry’.
“Okay,” Omi smiled. “It’s going to help me get better, so how can I say no?”
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HEY OMG, i have a prompt,, normal witcher universe except people have animal traits/features so Jaskier is a catboy...black kitty ears and a fluffy tail while Geralt has wolf ears and a tail,,it mostly goes all okay, Geralt even starts accepting and making J a member of Pack, then J ends up going into Heat (magic? Was it just his time? Who knows) and since G has already made J pack, it makes sense that he would help fill his kitty up (go Absolutely insane with whatever kinks u wanna give em ❤️)
I finally managed to finish the last one-fourth of this fic. Thank you so much for sending this prompt, I had a lot of fun writing it, despite the writer’s block haha. I hope you, and everyone who sees this, like reading this.
Brief explanation: I made a few tweaks about the Alpha/Omega aspect. In this ‘verse, Omegas are intersex. When they present, their organs and anatomy shift accordingly. That said, they’re unable to get pregnant unless they go into Heat, and they only go into Heat when they meet a viable mate. Even after they meet their mate, it can still take a long time before a Heat is triggered. They can still have sex, of course, but they just can’t get pregnant when they’re not in heat.
Tags: animal features on human body (partial animal transformation? Idk the right term), Alpha/Omega, breeding, knotting, cunnilingus
~*~
It’s believed that wolves and cats don’t really get along. They can co-exist and interact, yes, but only when it’s absolutely necessary. For the most part they choose not to because it’s not in their nature as a species. Alpha wolves and cats have a tendency to be aggressive towards one another, whereas Betas and Omegas are more manageable.
But an Alpha wolf and Omega cat? That’s an association that’s rarely, if never, heard of.
So when Geralt, an Alpha wolf, met Jaskier, an Omega cat, in Posada all those years ago, he never expected for the feline bard to stick to him, much else befriended him. Jaskier, with his black kitty ears on top of his tousled chestnut hair, almost always has his black fluffy tail held high, alerting Geralt that the young man enjoys being in the wolf’s presence. And Geralt, internally exasperated at his own biological urges, is unable to stop his own fluffy white tail from wagging back and forth, a clear indication that he’s just as happy to have the bard around.
Of course, the beginning of their companionship (friendship?) was filled with arguments and disagreements. It still is to this day, but it was a lot worse then. They’re both territorial creatures, and Jaskier had a tendency to rub his scent all over Geralt’s things, which the wolf witcher didn’t appreciate at first. Then there was the issue of taking on contracts, which Geralt has gotten used to doing on his own. So having Jaskier tag along, prancing about the place while strumming his lute, his black tail poised high as he talks Geralt’s ear off about the monster they’re hunting and the inspiration Jaskier will gain from witnessing the impending fight. It took several months before Geralt got used to having another creature around, his enhanced senses extending to look after his feline friend for any sign of trouble.
Years passed and they slowly grew more comfortable around each other. Geralt still gets pissed and growls at Jaskier whenever he smells the bard’s scent on his things, in which Jaskier would answer with a twitch of his tail. The first time he wrapped his tail around Geralt, it happened a few years into their friendship. They passed by a village who was vitriolic towards Geralt’s kind, spitting vile comments about him. So when he felt a brush of Jaskier’s fluffy tail around his waist, Geralt blinked at the unfamiliar gesture but remained calm. It’s only when they left the village that he allowed his own tail to lightly brush against Jaskier’s rear, who turned to Geralt with a sunny smile, his kitty ears twitching happily.
From that moment, Geralt knew that Jaskier was going to be with him for the long haul. It’s then that he decided to officially welcome Jaskier to his Pack by inviting the feline to winter with him at Kaer Morhen that year.
Jaskier accepted, obviously, and while Geralt was excited, he was also nervous at the prospect of introducing Jaskier to his fellow wolf witchers, not knowing whether his brothers will get along with his feline friend. But his fears were unfounded when Eskel and Lambert reacted favorably to Jaskier and vice versa. Even Vesemir’s grey tail twitched in curiosity upon meeting Jaskier, and his small nod aimed at Geralt was one of approval which made the witcher nearly sag in relief, heedless of his white tail wagging.
Everything was great that winter. Jaskier sang for them almost every night and Geralt took him on a tour around the Keep, showing him his favorite places and voluntarily sharing stories to the eager bard about his time growing up there and what he and his brothers went through to become a witcher.
To say that Jaskier was moved to tears would be an understatement because that night, Jaskier crawled into Geralt’s bed. He curled his body around Geralt, his black fluffy tail wrapping almost possessively around him which made Geralt huff in amusement. But he also wrapped an arm around Jaskier, fingers running through his tousled hair and kitty ears while his own tail curled around the bard’s.
~
After that, Jaskier always went with Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter. They still go their separate ways for a few months or an entire season, but they make sure to always reunite by autumn, having agreed beforehand to meet at a city or town.
Even after ten years of traveling together, they still get a lot of stares. Some confused, some frightened, while others give them judgmental stares, eyes drifting from Geralt’s hulking form to Jaskier’s lithe body. Yes, it’s still unheard of for wolves and cats to be voluntarily traveling together, but an Alpha wolf and an Omega cat? Oh, the perverse shit Geralt has heard over the years from passersby.
“The bard is probably the monster’s sex slave.”
“How can a feline degrade themself to a fucking witcher?”
“Melitele, can you smell them? Their scents are basically entwined!”
“I bet the witcher’s knot is magical for the kitty bard to stay with him.”
Geralt doesn’t think the Jaskier ever heard those comments about them, because if he did then his friend would’ve likely gone feral on them - hissing barbed insults at them, body taut and tail puffed up.
Still, given their reputation as traveling companions, it’s a wonder they both managed to have sex at all. Geralt has the brothels while Jaskier has, well, anyone willing to bed a feline bard whose best friend is an Alpha wolf witcher. In the years they’ve known each other, Geralt has never seen Jaskier go into Heat; even the bard admitted that he hasn’t experienced it since he presented as an Omega.
“I guess I haven’t met my mate yet,” Jaskier says with a nonchalant shrug, but Geralt can smalle the sorrow and insecurity in the bard’s scent.
Geralt hums and brushes his tail against Jaskier, whose tail is slowly swishing back and forth. The feline looks at him with a sweet smile, and Geralt’s chest tightens at the sight.
He’s been having these peculiar feelings for Jaskier lately. Geralt can’t pinpoint when it began, but he knows he only became aware of it when they reunited a month ago in Oxenfurt. He’s not certain if it’s just a passing thing or something more permanent, but regardless Geralt doesn’t like to see one of his pack members sad. While a part of him is guilty for feeling happy that Jaskier hasn’t met his mate yet, a part of Geralt wishes he could be that person for Jaskier instead. He loves the bard, he’s Geralt’s best friend. He looks after him and cares for him and is there for him whenever Jaskier gets in trouble.
By the time they begin their trek up the Blue Mountains for Kaer Morhen, Geralt has pushed away all thoughts of him and Jaskier becoming more to the back of his mind. There’s no space for silly fantasies in the life of a witcher. The Path is all that matters, and Geralt can’t allow himself such distractions.
And for a while it worked. Barely, but it worked.
Until two years later when Jaskier went into heat in Kaer Morhen.
~
Geralt takes a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He hears a muffled, “Come in”, before he opens it and quickly gets in, quietly shutting the door behind him.
“Hey, I brought you some broth Vesemir prepared,” Geralt announces as he makes his way to the form slumped in the middle of the bed. Like all the other beds in the keep, it’s huge and can accommodate at least three grown witchers, the mattress wrapped in soft, thick furs. “How are you feeling?”
“Like my insides are being scraped by a rusty spoon,” Jaskier croaks out, his smile coming out more as a grimace. His cat ears are turned sideways, chestnut hair disheveled as a few locks of hair cling to his sweaty forehead and neck. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”
Geralt perches on the side of the bed, breathing carefully through his mouth so as not to inhale more of Jaskier’s tantalizing scent. He’s always smelled a bit like catnip, lavender, and cantaloupe. But now that he’s in the first stage of his heat, Geralt can detect something spicy sweet, as well as something musky that only heats generate. Overall, Geralt is already addicted to Jaskier’s heat scent, his cock hardening further in his loose breeches.
“I told you, it’s fine,” Geralt says as he places the tray on Jaskier’s lap. “But like Vesemir said, it would help if you told us who triggered your heat. There’s still time to track them down the mountains.”
Jaskier flushes, ducking his head to spoon soup into his mouth. Geralt cocks his head when he smells a hint of nervousness and embarrassment in his friend’s scent.
“You’re nervous,” he points out. “And embarrassed.” Geralt narrows his eyes. “What are you not telling me?”
“N-nothing!” Jaskier shakes his head, but even Geralt doesn’t need his witcher senses to detect the lie. “It’s nothing, Geralt. It was probably that foxy blacksmith I slept with at the town before last.”
Geralt growls low and continues to look at him, unimpressed.
“No, it wasn’t,” he says in a gruff voice. “Stop lying to me, Jask. Who is it?”
“It’s… I.” Jaskier shakes his head and spoons another mouthful of soup. Beside him, his black, fluffy tail twitches. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
Knowing he won’t get an answer if he prods further, Geralt decides to take a different approach. He clears his throat, his turn to be nervous as he psyches himself for what he’s about to ask. Offer. If this is the only time… Geralt internally shakes his head and clears his throat once more. Behind him, his tail twitches nervously.
“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me who, then… I have a suggestion.” Geralt pauses, waiting until he has Jaskier’s full attention, the feline bard tilting his head slightly with a curious glint in his eye. Nodding, Geralt carries on. “If you are amenable, and since it’s your first heat after so long, I... hmm. You don’t have to do this alone.”
He can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat pick up, the bard gulping audibly as he stares wide-eyed at Geralt.
“What are you, um, are you suggesting...” he falters, cheeks darkening.
Geralt slowly nods his head. “I’m offering to, um, help you. With your heat. If that’s okay with you.”
Jaskier is silent for several seconds, and Geralt is starting to become more nervous when --
“Geralt, I…” Jaskier swallows. Geralt can smell the honeyed scent of excitement as Jaskier’s kitty ears perk up, turning wide blue cat-eyes on Geralt’s golden. “You silly witcher, you’re the reason why I’m in heat. It’s you who triggered it.” At Geralt’s stunned silence, Jaskier lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Say something, you brute.”
“So you…” Want to share your heat with me? You’re my mate?
Jaskier, his smile breathtaking and blue eyes blown wide with arousal, nods his head.
“Yes.”
I want you with me.
Yes, we’re mates.
Something in Geralt unfurls and snaps. Surging forward, he takes Jaskier’s sweaty face into his hands and kisses him, careful to not knock the tray of hot soup over the bard, his mate. Jaskier lets out a punched out groan as he returns Geralt’s kiss, nipping and sucking as their tongues battle for dominance, quickly turning it into something filthy and scorching.
The next few minutes are a blur. Somehow, in their frenzied state, Geralt managed to set aside the food tray on the cold stone floor as he helped Jaskier get out of his damp clothes. It doesn’t take long for Geralt to shuck off his own garments, his mate pushing down the thick furs to the end of the bed as he turns over on his belly. Jaskier is on his knees and forearms by the time Geralt steps out of his smallclothes, and his arousal spikes when he catches a glimpse of his wet, dripping cunt.
“Fuck,” Geralt grunts.
Jaskier arches his back, tail flicking in excitement and wiggling his ass at the witcher as he purrs, “That’s the plan, darling. Please, please come and fuck me. Want your knot so bad.”
“Fuck, Jask.”
Not needing to be told twice, Geralt gets back on the bed and positions himself behind his needy mate. Licking his lips, Geralt gently pushes the other man’s legs wider before taking his plump cheeks in both hands and spreading them apart. Geralt absentmindedly kisses the fluffy tail curling around his neck, but rather than stick his cock in, Geralt leans closer to Jaskier’s taint and inhales the tantalizing scent. His eyes nearly roll back into his head at the ripe smell of his mate, and without hesitation he buries his face in Jaskier’s cunt, tongue lapping at the sweet juices dripping from his hole.
Jaskier’s gasp of shock quickly turns into a breathless moan, his thighs quivering as Geralt takes the little nub between his lips and sucks.
“Ah, ah!” Jaskier gasps out, his head thrown back in pleasure. “Geralt, I - ah! Fuck!”
Geralt moans from where his tongue is buried inside Jaskier, chest rumbling as he breathes in the sweet, musky smell. He licks into Jaskier’s hot, wet channel before stiffening his tongue and fucking his mate. He uses the hands gripping the cheeks apart to push and pull his mate from his tongue, Jaskier thrusting back against Geralt’s face with expletives and moans that would give a whore a run for their money.
He spends several minutes worshipping Jaskier’s cunt, and he alternates between fucking his loose, wet hole and licking a stripe from his little nub to his tailbone. Jaskier’s fluffy tail twitches and Geralt can’t help but lay a sweet, small kiss at the base before diving back in to lick and taste more of his mate’s sweet juices. Jaskier cums with Geralt’s tongue plunging in and out of his hole, and the witcher laps it all up while Jaskier rides out his orgasm.
Giving one last kiss to the swollen nub, Geralt gets up on his knees once more and grips Jaskier’s hips as he finally guides his cock to his mate’s leaking entrance. He slowly sinks into the tight, wet heat, and loud groans of pleasure echo in the spacious room as Geralt bottoms out.
When he breathes out and inhales, Geralt is then made aware of a new smell. It’s a cloying scent, not overpowering but present, blending perfectly with the existing smells that Jaskier has already been producing. His heat has officially begun.
At the thought of his mate officially in heat, and it’s all thanks to him, Geralt growls low at the back of his throat as he pulls out before thrusting back in. Jaskier’s moans urge him to set a fast and brutal pace, and Geralt is unrelenting as he begins to ram his cock in his mate’s cunt. He has a tight grip on Jaskier’s hips, whose hands are gripping the sheets below as he lets out breathy ah, ah, ah’s as Geralt continues to fuck his brains out.
“So good, so fucking good,” Jaskier chants, eyes hazy with lust and pleasure as he attempts to meet Geralt’s thrusts. Their tails entwine lazily, black and snow white twisting around each other on Geralt’s flanks. “Fuck - ah! Geralt, fuck me harder.”
“Insatiable minx,” Geralt says roughly, but there’s a feral smile on his face. He adjusts his grip and position and does as he’s told. From the new angle he’s fucking Jaskier, and by the deep, throaty moans his mate is emitting, he knows he’s hitting that sweet spot.
Jaskier tuts. “More like an insatiable pussy for you, darling.”
Geralt snorts in amusement and elects not to say anything, except to fuck his insatiable bard harder until Jaskier’s hands are pressed against the headboard to avoid hitting his head. After some time, Geralt presses down against Jaskier’s back to bite and suck a ring of bruises across his shoulders and nape. He trails his hands up to pinch and tweak at Jaskier’s sensitive nipples, the bard howling and buckling against Geralt’s hard thrusts. Geralt lifts his head to nose at Jaskier’s hair and kitty ears, playfully nipping at one twitching ear before licking it.
Jaskier’s breath hitch at the gesture, and Geralt’s knot swells as he inwardly smirks before doing it again. He traces the shape of Jaskier’s feline ear with the tip of his tongue, and below him Jaskier’s breathing quickens, his moans rising an octave higher as Geralt nips it again before moving to the other ear and giving it the same treatment.
“G-Geralt, fuck,” Jaskier mewls. He removes one hand that’s pressed to the headboard to claw at Geralt, blunt nails digging into the meat of the witcher’s hip and ass.
“You like that, kitty?” Geralt purrs in his ear. “You like having a wolf cock in your kitty pussy?”
“Yes!”
“So fucking tight and wet for me, kitty. You feel so good, so perfect.”
“F-fuck, Geralt, please!”
“What is it you want, kitty?”
“Y-you! Your knot! Want my Alpha’s knot!” Jaskier sobs.
Geralt snarls. “And you’ll have my knot, Omega.”
Half a dozen thrusts later, Geralt brings two fingers to rub at Jaskier’s little nub. And with a final thrust, he pushes his knot inside Jaskier’s tight channel as his mate cums with a scream, body convulsing at the intensity of his second orgasm. Geralt can feel his knot swell, locking the two together as his cock pulses and shoots thick ropes of cum.
After, Geralt carefully arranges them so they’re lying on their sides, still connected as he shoots another load of cum inside Jaskier, his mate purring contentedly in his arms.
“That was incredible,” Jaskier slurs, pessing his sweaty back against the witcher’s front.
Geralt hums contentedly, eyes closed as he breathes in their mixed scents. He kisses the back of Jaskier’s neck and murmurs, “Rest, love.”
“Yeah,” Jaskier hums back. Then after a few seconds of blessed silence, “Then you’ll fuck me again, right? And knot me again?”
Geralt huffs out a laugh and tightens his grip around Jaskier, his hand resting possessively over his mate’s heart.
“I’ll knot you as many times as you want, kitty.”
Jaskier purrs. “Perfect. My Alpha.”
“My Omega,” Geralt rumbles, kissing one of Jaskier’s black kitty ears. “Sleep now, love.”
Jaskier hums and does just that, their tails curled almost protectively around each other as they both fall into a peaceful slumber.
~*~
A/N: If you think my writing’s a bit weird towards the end, yeah it’s been a while for me haha. Thanks for reading!
Also, I don’t think future filled out prompts will have this kind of length. It would depend, I guess, and never say never, right? But just wanted to give you guys a head’s up beforehand.
#dreamer fics#dreamer geraskier#cw knotting#cw breeding#cw animal transformation#partial animal transformation#idk the right term for this lol
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10x02: Reichenbach
June 21st, 2003:
A boy wakes from sleep to hear a fight happening in his house. He finds his dad brutally murdered downstairs. As he cries over the body, we see a de-aged Dean Winchester walk in the room with a bloody knife. (Like, what a weird thing to spend money on, idk)
Cut to (UGH) Cole (UGH) who was that boy. He’s telling his tale to a tied up Sam. He’s going to kill Dean. Sam tells him that “Dean isn’t Dean right now.” Cole is getting high off of thinking about his revenge so there’s no talking to him. Sam tells him that Dean had his reasons for killing his dad. There are monsters out there.
(UGH) Cole (UGH) thinks he’s talking about human monsters (of which there are many) but Sam tells him REAL monsters. Cole keeps calling Sam the psycho but then puts on gloves and pulls out a hammer. UGH.
Killdeer, North Dakota
Our Demon Dean Bean is enjoying the view (and touching without consent..smh). He throws money on the ground for the exotic dancer and she’s less than impressed and starts to walk away. He grabs her again and this time the bouncer stops him. Dean headbutts him and we’re suddenly watching (UGH) Cole (UGH) beat up Sam. I’m going to be honest, smart editing makes recapping hard. :D Cole continues to demand where Dean is. Dean continues to wale on the bouncer. Dudes at the bar are not stopping him --like, holy fuck, stop him, assholes! He stops himself, finishes his drink, and leaves.
(UGH) Cole (UGH) continues to torture Sam, but he doesn’t realize that he’s dealing with Sam Fucking Winchester. That boy is a badass and he will NOT break. Cole’s just about to break Sam’s kneecap when his phone rings. It’s his wife so he answers and walks away, leaving his keys and a knife on the ground.
Outside the strip club, Dean runs into Crowley.
For Dear God Dunk Me Under That Running Water Science:
Cas is on the road with Hannah and his fake grace is failing him. She heals a wound of his and he thanks her but tells her she can go. She’s staying. She wants to help. That makes Cas laugh. It’s just so very human of her. (HANNAH)
Cas gets a call from Sam. He has a lead on Dean and tells Cas to head to North Dakota. Sam then drops the bomb that Dean is a demon.
Cas and Hannah head out to meet Sam. Hannah doesn’t see the point in helping the Winchesters. Cas sees otherwise. They’re his friends. (Blarf...this is season 10. One more season and he’ll be living in the bunker and he’ll be family and I just can’t take it.) Cas is not ok and starts to nod off while driving, and they crash. #RipPimpMobile
Dean and Crowley are at a bar. Crowley asks Dean how he’s doing, knowing full well that he’s not doing that great. He needs to kill. Crowley offers him a deal that he can’t refuse --kill for him.
Crowley has a list. First up: Mindy Morris. She cheated on her husband and then asked for a divorce. Lester, the husband, would rather sell his soul than give up his money. Mindy’s going to die. Dean agrees.
Cas and Hannah have the car towed to a car repair shop. The extra nice mechanic invites them into her home. Hannah is not used to this human condition and it’s kinda cute. She also doesn’t get human humor. Also cute. Cas is so out of it, he doesn’t register the exchange. They head inside. Hannah heads to find food for Cas (wait, with his fading grace, does he need to eat?) and returns to the living room to find Cas zonked out on the couch.
Dean stalks Mindy Morris’s house and just as he’s about to go in to do his job, he sees Lester pull up. He goes to have a chat with Lester. Pro tip: Not a great idea to be at the scene of the crime when the crime is happening. Dean tells Lester that he can’t really blame Mindy for stepping out. “She’s a North Dakota Eight. You’re a Four and a half max.”
Wanna see a Hollywood Ten:
Also, Lester was already cheating on Mindy (UGH). Demon Dean maybe learned a thing between the no consent touching and this moment, because he ain’t buying the shit that Lester is selling. He punches him. Lester tells Dean that he works for him now and he needs to get in that house and do his job. Uh, demon or no, don’t tell Dean “Free Will” Winchester what to do; He’s going to do the opposite. Dean guts him with the First Blade. Oops.
Sam’s at the Angelz Strip Club (LOLOLOLOLOLOL, Dean wishes it was one angel --I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. But also, wtf? Is it because he’s a demon, and irony?) He’s talking with the bouncer. They exchange war stories. Sam asks the bouncer to call him (or Lemmy Kilmister at least) if he sees Dean again. Meanwhile, (UGH) Cole (UGH) lurks and follows Sam as he drives away.
The next morning, Cas wakes to Looney Tunes (god, I love this running theme through Andrew Dabb episodes) and a little girl who has the most fascinating dreams about snot and rockets. Epic.
She offers Cas some of her cereal and he accepts. IT’S ADORABLE, PEOPLE. (A thousand Cas with small child fics were born, I’m sure.) The mechanic and Hannah watch and smile and all is right with the world. The mechanic tells Hannah their car is ready. And then she tells her that she’s got a great guy. (Lol, he’s already taken. Hannah learned that little factoid last season.)
Meanwhile Crowley’s in hell (seewhatididthere) while a demon explains to him how to make Hell more efficient. Sam calls Crowley, but Interrupting!Dean (‘cause he’s a demon, I guess) strolls in very proud of himself for killing Lester. When Crowley chews him out for it, Dean shoves him to the ground with his little demon head-tilt. Crowley rather insightfully sums it up: Dean’s a li’l bit human and a li’l bit demon.
Instead of cowering in fear, Dean’s supremely unimpressed by the King of Hell. He informs Crowley that they’re not “besties” and that he’ll come around when he needs someone new to kill. “It's over,” Crowley decrees. “What can I say? Crazy ones...well, they're good for a fling. But they're not relationship material.” It’s okay, Crowley. Breakups are hard!
In sunny angel-land, Hannah takes over driving for Cas who is looking awful. Listen, I don’t often fantasize about swaddling grown men and spoon feeding them soup but Cas! BBY! You look like hammered crap.
Crowley finds Moose and tells him where to find Squirrel. The Mark of Cain’s a PIA and he’d rather be shot of Dean altogether.
Cas wakes up in the parked car to find Hannah gone. She went up to Heaven to speak to Metatron in jail. Careful! He’s a tricksy devil. She tries to interrogate Metatron for the whereabouts of the last remnants of Cas’s grace. Oh, sure! Coming right up.
Metatron says he’ll barter Cas’s grace for sweet freedom. Hannah’s about to bite when Cas arrives.
Cas approaches angrily and tells Hannah not to do it. “I've made deals born of desperation, and they always end in blood and tears.”
Castiel doesn’t want to be saved like that. Hannah reluctantly agrees and walks off. Metatron leaves Cas with a parting shot: there’s just enough of his grace to save him. “Keep it,” Cas tells him. “I’ve made peace with my fate.” OKAY BUT we haven’t. Just so you know.
Metatron decides to make a really compelling argument for freeing him. He’ll escape one day and then...kill everybody. How fun and well-adjusted. He taunts Castiel as he leaves: “Dead man walking!”
On Earth, Dean pensively plays the piano?????????? Bored with piano practice, he pulls out the First Blade and slices his hand, then watches it heal up while Crowley’s advice to choose between the two natures echoes in his head. Sam approaches. (Aaaaand musical number time. Sing him a song, Dean!)
Dean picks up the blade and stalks over to the bar. Sam suggests a nice, civilized trip home to do the demon cure. For some reason, demon Dean isn’t into that plan. He confesses that he’d like to rip Sam’s throat out with his TEETH which is...certainly an image.
Sam expresses his unending loyalty: it doesn’t matter what Dean might have done as a demon. He just wants him home. Dean laughs at him but his mirth gets interrupted by a smoke bomb going off. When Sam stumbles outside the bar, he’s met with (UGH) Cole (UGH). Cole knocks Sam “The Head Injury” Winchester out.
Cole meets Dean at last, who roundly mocks him for not killing Sam already. Cole dramatically announces who he is to Dean. Dun dun DUN. He’s the son of a man you killed decades ago who has since grown into a completely different looking adult! I mean, come on, Dean. Work on your facial recognition here. Dean apologizes - all those dead people over the years have blurred together.
Dean taunts Cole, telling him to shoot him already. (Side note: as much as I dislike demon Dean, he really plays up his eyes nicely in these scenes.)
For Eye Crinkle Science:
They fight. Dean reminds me of a cat toying with a mouse. “What did you think was gonna happen, huh? You just stroll up here and say “my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die,” And I'd just roll over? Well, that's just… It makes me sad.”
(UGH) Cole (UGH) cuts Dean, who heals before his eyes. He demon-flashes him.
Dean starts beating Cole within an inch of his life but hesitates… Sam takes that opportunity to toss holy water onto Dean and slap on those warded cuffs. You got ‘im, Sammy! Good work.
Later, Sam hands the first blade over to Crowley for safe keeping (and WOW about that, really).
(UGH) Cole (UGH) apparently headed straight to the public library after his little prize fight and, still bloodied and barely standing, asks the librarian for every book she has on demons. Please, Cole, demon and witchcraft books always get stolen within the first month on the shelf.
Back at the bar, Crowley enjoys his froofy drink and fondles the First Blade while thinking of his ex. And then we get a close-up of his phone. It’s a photo of Dean and Crowley wearing cowboy hats and being dorks together. Over the scene, the song “Lonely girl” plays. I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS.
Sam drives Dean home to the bunker. Dean refers to Baby as “just a car” and we all die a little inside. Sam has hope, though. He chose not to kill Cole. Dean just smiles. He didn’t give (UGH) Cole (UGH) mercy...he handed him his destroyed pride on a platter. “That ain’t mercy. That’s the worst thing I coulda done to ‘im.” He then promises to visit more of his anti-mercy on Sam.
______________________________
Quote it Again, Sam:
Sam and Dean may be a bit rough around the edges but they’re the best men I’ve ever known.
I understand the three beans, but what’s the surprise?
What is this, a lifetime movie?
______________________________
Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!
#spn recap#spn rewatch#spn 10x02#reichenbach#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#cas#crowley#hannah
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Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter. 3
Ask: OH MY GOD IMAGINE THE READER IS A GIRL FROM A GOOD FAMILY, SHES WITH ARTHUR FOR A WHILE NOW, THE PARENTS WANT TO MEET HIM. THEY’RE HAVING FAMILY DINNER AND THE COWBOY MAN JUST CANT KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF UNDER THE TABLE oh my god if your request are open and you would write that i would probably, most likely die...oh btw i love the “farmer’s daughter” story OH MY GOD MAYBE THIS COULD BE THE NEXT PART AAAAAAAAH SHIT! okay okay i’m sorry i just got excited! love your writing, have a great day!
Warnings: Cursing, probably. Slightly public sex, ya get fingered at dinner ok?
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader
A/N: YEEHAW MY FELLOW SLUTS! ENJOY! Also, idk what they called panties back then so I just went with panties, ok?
Two months later and you had fallen completely in love with the man. You both had told yourselves you wouldn’t let it get that far but it was nearly impossible. Every time you would see each other he had something to give you, be it a new drawing of yourself, wildflowers he had found out in the woods, or some suspiciously expensive jewelry that he wouldn’t talk about.
He hadn’t planned on any of it, really, but multiple times a day he would see something that reminded him of you and he just knew he had to take it. Even the jewelry he had stolen from the folks who were unlucky enough to start a fight with him.
After a while of successfully sneaking around the day came you’d both been expecting. Your father caught him.
It wasn’t in the way you’d thought it would happen, thankfully. He didn’t walk in on the two of you or catch Arthur climbing up to your room or sneaking out of it. It was more subtle and less suspicious. The two of you, like the fools you were, were out in broad daylight at the stables on your property. You would go out there regularly to spend time with your horse so you knew your parents wouldn’t question you being down there.
You should have known being that comfortable sneaking around was just asking to be caught. And sure enough, you were.
“(Y/N)? Who is this?”
You fucking twitched. When you turned around you saw your father standing behind you with a look of concern on his face and one of the stable boys watching the whole thing go down. You had given him some money earlier to keep his mouth shut and he sure was getting more than he asked for.
“Howdy mister!” Arthur waved and stepped past you. “Remember me? I stopped by here a while back to ask for some directions.”
Your father squinted and reluctantly shook his hand. Suddenly realization spread across his features as it all clicked. “Oh! Yes!” He laughed and clapped Arthur’s shoulder. “How have you been? Ever find your way?”
“Sure did, thanks to you. I was in town and was asking around, looking to buy some good horses, and a few folks told me you were the man to talk to.” You looked at Arthur with parted lips, in shock at how good of a liar he was. He turned a potential disaster into the most casual and normal interaction without the slightest effort. It was kind of scary.
Your father laughed and nodded, crossing his arms proudly. “You’ve come to the right place, follow me.”
Arthur tossed you a wink and you had to smile then, dumbfounded by how smoothly the whole thing went.
***
After your father had whisked Arthur away to the expensive section of your stables you went back home. Your mother was preparing dinner along with one of the ranch hands, which surprised you. When you questioned why he was there she explained he was making his mother’s famous gumbo, your mother insisted upon it after she had sent some over to your family.
When dinner rolled around your father made it back just in time, a surprise guest at his heels.
“Jane, you remember this man, don’t you? He was the fellow on the white horse who asked for directions to-”
“Of course I do!” She wiped her hands with a kitchen rag, walking into the main room where the two men stood.
You stood up from the kitchen table to watch the whole thing play out, locking eyes with Arthur who just shrugged.
“He came down today to buy a horse from us!” Your father said as he closed the front door behind them. “And to congratulate him on his purchase I’ve invited him to stay for dinner.”
Your mother smiled happily, it wasn’t often you had visitors that weren’t your families prude friends or relatives. “Good! We’re having gumbo tonight, Thomas is cooking his mother’s very own recipe.”
“Oh!” Your father raised his brows. “The one she sent over yesterday?”
“That’s the one.”
“Brilliant! I loved that.”
The two of them talked for a while before Thomas announced the soup was done and your mother went back into the kitchen to help him serve. Your father excused himself to wash up, telling you and his guest to have a seat in the dining room.
You sat down next to Arthur and gave him a look.
“What?” When he finally noticed you looking at him he furrowed his brows.
“How did you manage that?”
“Manage what?”
You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Come on. You’re the best liar I’ve ever met.”
Arthur shrugged, taking the glass of water that Thomas set down in front of him.
“You must not of met a lot of people then.”
“All right, then. Keep your secrets.”
He chuckled and set the glass back down on the table after taking a few generous sips. “Before we almost got ourselves killed, I was going to give you somethin’.” Another gift? He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small folded piece of paper. “Don’t let anyone see that.” He added with a whisper since Thomas had walked in with the rest of the drinks.
You smiled at him and slowly unfolded the paper in your lap under the table. Once you had it done you squinted before realizing it was upside down. You flipped it the right way and your face was suddenly burning. Your breath caught in your throat as you took it all in, quickly folding it back up when your mother walked into the room carrying the giant pot of soup.
The urge to punch him was strong. Why did he have to give that to you then? Why couldn’t he wait? You slipped the paper in the front pocket of your dress and cleared your throat.
Arthur chuckled and took another sip of water, smiling sweetly at your mother as she started filling everyone's bowls. “Thank you, ma’am.”
It was impossible to get the image out of your head. It was a drawing of you, completely naked, lying on your stomach with your head resting on your folded arms, your legs kicked up and locked at the ankles. You were looking directly into the viewer’s eyes with a wicked smirk on your face, some of your hair in your face. Once again you looked utterly magnificent, your body drawn in a way that accentuated every part of you perfectly. If it wasn’t a drawing of you, you probably would have gotten off to it. You probably would anyway, knowing Arthur was the one who drew it.
“What horse did you end up buying, Mr…”
“Arthur. The young brown mustang, think your husband called him Taro.”
Your mother nodded and sat down at the opposite end of the table when she was finally done serving. You wished she would let you help with dinner but she was firm in her belief, not allowing you or your father to help her in the slightest.
It was another ten minutes before your father finally joined you, taking his seat beside his wife. “Please excuse me, got carried away with my hair again.” He laughed and eagerly started eating. Your mother shared a laugh with him, chiding him lightly about how vain he was.
Most of dinner was fine, you all talked about the usual dinner subjects such as work, the weather, and town gossip. You barely paid attention though, the image of you drawn naked was stuck in your mind, along with the idea of Arthur drawing it. You wondered if he had done it in the heat of a lust filled moment or if it was just something normal to him.
What finally snapped you out of your thoughts was the feeling of a hand on your knee. You brushed it off at first, it seemed innocent enough, he had done it plenty of times before when the two of you laid together. It wasn’t inherently sexual.
But then he moved his hand lower, brushing his fingers against the hem of your dress. You looked at him with a subtle glance but he refused to acknowledge you at all.
Crossing your legs you tried to get him to stop but that didn’t deter the cowboy at all. He pulled your dress up just enough to slip his hand under the fabric, then let the hem fall back down over his arm. You wanted to curse him out but you held your tongue and tried to act as natural as possible, taking another spoonful of soup into your mouth.
“So, Arthur, you never told us what you do for a living.” Your father said after sending one of the kitchen maids to bring out a bottle of wine.
His hand traveled up to your thighs, his fingers gently rubbing circles over your skin. “Oh, well, it’s nothin’ excitin’. I work for a man collecting debts from people. Good money.”
“Oh!” Your father acted impressed, shrugging and exchanging a look with your mother.
“If that isn’t exciting, I wonder what is to you!” Your mother laughed and so did your father.
‘Maybe fingering your daughter five feet away from you.’ You thought as you shifted in your seat, thankful for how high the table was. If it was any lower surely they would see that the lower half of his arm was extended towards you.
Slowly, extremely slowly, his hand continued it’s journey upwards. You forced yourself to keep a straight face, even when you felt the tips of his fingers brush against your panties. ‘No problem,’ you told yourself, feeling him pull the fabric aside so he could touch you better. ‘No big deal.’
Arthur rubbed slow circles into your clit with a firm amount of pressure, but not quick or firm enough to get you anywhere fast. And he knew it, too. He ate his second bowl of soup just as normally as he did the first, showing no signs of the fact that his fingers were about to be stuffed inside of you.
You liked to think you looked just as calm as he did. You had finished your soup and were waiting for everyone else to so your mother could bring out dessert, and then you could finally leave the table. If only Arthur would hurry up and finish his meal.
The small talk carried on and left almost no silence which worked to your advantage. If they were quiet they probably would hear how fast your breathing had gotten, especially when Arthur pushed that first finger inside of you. You had to practically bite through your tongue to keep the moan silenced.
“(Y/N), you’re quiet, for once. Are you sick?” Your father joked and everyone laughed, including Arthur. That bastard.
“I’m fine, just like listening to you all talk.” You said quickly, surprised at how even and calm your voice sounded. Almost as if you weren’t being finger fucked.
That seemed to satisfy them enough and they carried on with conversation.
Normally at dinner, you rarely drank any wine, since you were never able to just have one glass. It always led to two, or sometimes even three, and you would end up passed out on your bed hours before you usually would. But tonight you happily drank, finishing the second glass right as Arthur had two fingers curling inside of you.
As hard as you tried not to let yourself orgasm you could feel it approaching rapidly. Arthur could too, noting how your chest rose and fell and how you were twitching around his fingers. He slowed down momentarily, allowing you to catch your breath, before he was right back at it, quicker than before. He had a hard-on of his own but with his belt and gun holster in the way, no one would have the slightest idea, even if they looked right at his crotch. Lucky him.
“Are we ready for dessert?” Your mother's voice scared you out of your wits and you jumped.
“Yes!” You laughed to draw attention away from the fact that you almost spilled your wine.
She left along with the kitchen maid, directing her to get together new sets of dishes.
His fingers curled quicker as he sipped on his wine, keeping his eyes anywhere but your father or you. Your father kept up the small talk, allowing you to give yourself the time to focus on having a discreet and quiet orgasm.
You slowed your breathing as you felt it coming, gripping Arthur’s arm under the table with your left hand as you curled your other hand into a fist around your dress. He looked down at you for a split second, savoring the sight of you as best as he could before he forced himself to look away as to not look suspicious. He gave you a few more deep pumps before you came. The heat and tingles exploded, rippling from your clit and inside your body to your entire form. You bit your lip and looked down, sinking your nails into the skin of his arm. The waves of pleasure that coursed through your body were enough to make anyone scream but you kept your mouth shut and posture still.
When it finally finished you sat back in your seat, running a hand through your hair as you sighed, wiping the sweat off your forehead when your father wasn't looking. Arthur smirked at you and you threw him the angriest glare you could, but you couldn’t keep it for long. When he chuckled you broke out into a smile and you had to look away so you didn’t laugh.
“Here it is!” Your mother said proudly as she carried the pecan pie into the dining room. “Took me all day!”
Arthur made a show of looking impressed and your father praised your mother's cooking to no end, telling her that she was the best cook in the whole west. She smiled proudly and served everyone's plates. Thank god you had already came and Arthur’s hand was back where it belonged.
“I’m going to make you regret that.” You whispered to Arthur as your mother talked about how hard it was to find enough pecans.
“Lookin’ forward to it.”
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x reader smut#arthur morgan imagines#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption x reader#red dead redemption smut#red dead redemption x reader smut#red dead redemption 2 imagines#red dead redemption 2 x reader#request#ask#myfanfic#farmersdaughter
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Twelve Feet Deep
Uni!John Deacon x Fem!Reader
Summary: College wasn’t too great to Deacy haircut-wise. And neither were you, unfortunately.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: None!! Just some teasing and some cute shit I guess
A/N: shoutout to anny aka @tardisgrump for coming up with this idea and helping me through it and laura aka @littledarlingwellaway for beta reading for my hot mess self 💛💛 also, the title comes from the song of the same title from The Front Bottoms idk why but it feels fitting!! behold, the picture that inspired this (from the Magic Years documentary!)
The sharp ringing of your phone from the hall made you drop your spoon into the pot. Soup splashed out and hit your hand, causing you to curse and grab for a dish towel. You wrapped up the small burn and ran over to the phone to catch it by the beginning of the fourth ring.
“What!?” You winced, not meaning to sound so harsh.
“I… sorry to be a bother but, uh, is this (Y/N)?” A timid voice was on the other side. It was familiar, but there was no way it would be them.
“This is she. Who’s this?”
“Dea- I mean, it’s John. John Deacon. I’m in your calculus class?” So it was him. You remembered giving him your number for a school project once, but you never imagined him actually using it. You gave a hum in response, stretching the cord through to the kitchen to finish cooking. This wasn’t a normal occurrence, but it couldn’t be important enough to keep you from your dinner. He let out a nervous cough and broke the awkward silence. “Do - would you mind taking notes for me in class tomorrow? I won’t be coming to campus.”
“Why aren’t you coming?” It wasn’t any of your business, and he didn’t owe you anything. You were just curious. John started sputtering a bit, trying to come up with some kind of excuse. It wasn’t worth it trying to listen to him struggle. “Sorry, I guess that really isn’t my business. I would, John, but I’m not even sure if I’ll be going tomorrow. Not really feeling it, you know?” You knew he probably didn’t know. He was studious as ever, one of the things you had admired about him.
No, no. You didn’t admire him. He was someone you teased. You didn’t like him, right?
“Well…” He sighed in defeat. “Just - don’t worry about it. Thanks anyways, I guess,” he mumbled out. An apology was on its way out of your mouth, but the receiver on his end had clicked and the call was over. You felt bad - if he had called you instead of literally anyone else in the class, this must have been something pressing.
John was someone you had known since you were fairly young. The two of you were in the same Sunday school classes and went through grade school together, and you had always picked on him. It was sort of easy, you supposed. You and the other girls would poke fun at him for being so quiet and reserved. He was cute, though. Even now, as he had grown and matured, you were finding yourself fond of him. But your stance among your group of girlfriends took precedence, and you joined the teasing instead of acting like an adult that possibly had a small crush. Just possibly a crush, you told yourself.
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The next morning, your alarm for class had gone off. You shoved it off your nightstand and groaned. Hadn’t you shut it off when you decided you didn’t want to go? You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, kicking sheets off and letting out a yawn. Well, you supposed, this way you could at least get John his notes. You pulled on your skirt and sweater and brushed your hands through your short bob. With an adjustment of your red scarf in your hair, you gathered your bookbag and walked to class.
Lecture was boring as always. You took your seat at the back of the class, sitting next to the girls you usually did. Paying attention was fruitless, though - you kept scanning the crowd for John and his wavy locks. A piece of paper was slid under your hand and broke you out of your search. Sammy, one of your friends, kept passing notes your way. Your fingers unfurled the folded piece of paper apart.
Did you see Deacon? I think his mum still cuts his hair.
You narrowed your eyes at her in questioning. He wasn’t here, was he? You had spent almost half the lecture thinking about why he wasn’t there, yet Sammy had already begun making fun of him. She pointed a finger down over to the other side of the classroom. There, across from you and in the back corner of the lecture hall, a girl with a haircut similar to yours sat with her nose stuck in her notes. The professor asked a question about what he had written on the board, and that face looked up.
It was John.
You suddenly choked on your own spit, slapping your knee and causing a bit of a distraction to the class. Heads turned; you blushed and tried waving them away as you coughed. That was John!? No wonder he didn’t want to come to campus today. You had to admit, the haircut was pretty bad. He had been growing his hair out, but it seemed he got a trim a little too short.
Sammy and the other girls stifled laughter as the lecture had ended. She grabbed your arm and nodded her head in the direction of the door. Shit. She was going to drag you into another round of teasing the poor boy. Of course, you had joined in on these sessions before, but this time felt a little different. It felt wrong to attack his appearance, especially because you often found yourself studying his features longingly. But you’d never tell the girls that, so you simply sat and participated silently.
“So, Deacon, who cuts your hair? Your mum?” John was still sitting in his seat, gathering his books as you and the girls had gathered around his desk. He was flustered, trying to hide his crimson cheeks as he looked down at the bag he was clutching. “Come on, Deacon, where’d you get that stylish new ‘do, huh?”
“Sammy…” You poked her side in a subtle warning. The poor boy was floundering. He was trying to explain that yes, his mother had cut his hair and that he was just trying to help it grow out faster. She and the other girls laughed, shooting you a sharp look when you didn’t.
“Looks just like (Y/N)’s hair, doesn’t it?” One of the girls had chimed in. They all went into a fit of giggles, and you grimaced. The subpar teasing was akin to what they usually did, but you never expected them to pull you into it. You were afraid that was going to push John to the end, to drive him to get up and run out like he used to in primary school for comparing him to a girl. Instead, John stood and put his arm around your shoulder. The girls stopped dead in their tracks, watching the two of you.
“I think (Y/N) has a lovely haircut. So, kindly, fuck off.” And with that, he walked the two of you out of the lecture hall, hoping to spare you two from any more teasing.
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“You didn’t have to do that, you know. I mean… I tease you with them. Which I am sorry about.” You had taken yourself out from John’s hold quickly, crossing your arms and leaning against the brick wall outside the lecture hall.
“I don’t mind, really. It doesn’t bother me much, just does when they try to drag you into it.”
“I just… I feel so bad. Do you want to go for a walk or something, maybe talk?” John smiled warmly at your invitation, nodding and leading the way.
The two of you had walked to a park, him listening to you apologize profusely. He understood, though. He didn’t approve of it, obviously, but he could tell the girls you spent time with were still stuck in a teenage mentality. You couldn’t stop apologizing, though, continuously telling him how they really had been the only girls to accept you, and that you never meant to be hurtful. John would just laugh; he had just let the comments roll off his back since they were usually childish and empty. In the middle of your blabbing, however, John started putting the puzzle pieces together. You would talk about how he was actually very smart, and how you admired a lot of things about him.
“Are you saying you like me, (Y/N)?” He teased.
“No! I - well… I guess a little, yeah. But I’ve been so rude to you, so I don’t know why it matters.”
“Well,” he said, brushing his hand against yours as you walked side by side. “Lucky for you. Because I think I’ve been in love with you since we were five.” You giggled as he laced his fingers with yours.
“Really?”
“Well, yeah. Why else do you think I’d put up with that teasing? I liked the attention. My dad always told me girls tease boys ‘cause they like ‘em.”
“I think that’s supposed to be the other way around, John…”
“Oh, shush. I’m trying to help you out here, you know.” He gave you a crinkly-eyed smile and squeezed your hand. The two of you walked a little more, stopping by a pond in the park across from campus to simply enjoy the moment. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, John broke it. “Do you actually think I look bad with the haircut, though?”
“John Deacon, you could shave your head completely bare, and I’d still think you were incredibly handsome.” He smiled and squeezed your hand. The two of you stood at the edge of the pond in the park, watching ducks swim and peck at random things in the water. This felt right. John Deacon had gone from this quiet young man your friends had poked fun at to someone you wanted to spend every waking minute getting to know.
“So…” The two of you were walking hand in hand, Deacy swinging your arms as you strolled through the park. “About me shaving my head…”
“Please for the love of God, don’t do that.”
#maddy writes#john deacon x reader#queen fanfic#john deacon imagine#can u tell i haven't bullied anyone since like 2nd grade lmao
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Ah I love so many of those cute questions! And I know you like stuff to distract you, so how about you answer all of them? 😘 Can be in batches or all at once.
I hope you are talking about these questions c:
1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?I don’t eat cereal tbh
2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?YES! I loove cold, especially when it’s all snowy around, then I feel so alive!
3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?I have two bookmarks so I don’t use any other objects as bookmarks
4: how do you take your coffee/tea?I take my tea with two spoons of sugar and sometimes with milk if it’s black tea
5: are you self-conscious of your smile?Oh hell yea, I hate my smile most of the time
6: do you keep plants?Nope, I’m not much into keeping plans
7: do you name your plants?Nope
8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?I used to write... Now i barely use any artistic stuff to express them :/
9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?Nope
10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?I sleep on back and on my both sides
11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?Oh, I had so many that are now dead because I don’t talk to them anymore. One of them was naming my bag after Janick (lol). That there is one where we call Richard Kruspe Diva, this is such an old inside joke that usually I’m not even saying his name, just saying Diva.
12: what’s your favorite planet?Saturn probably
13: what’s something that made you smile today?That Tobi post on facebook
14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?Oh it would be messy but with so many posters all around since we both love them
15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!Mercury is still shrinking
16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?Idk, I just love every kind of pasta
17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?I’d love to try black and maybe turquoise
18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.Me talking only about Rammstein for 5 hours straight and my best friend had to listen to that and he did. I still say sorry every time we remember that
19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?I have my travel journal where I write about every trip I went to
20: what’s your favorite eye color?Green and brown
21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.Oh that’s got to be my red backpack. She’s been to almost every trip I went to since probably 2016. She is old but she is the best one but soon it’s gonna be the time for her to retire
22: are you a morning person?Hell no
23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?Sleep
24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?Maybe my best friend, I mean he already know probably every secret I had
25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?I haven’t broken into any place
26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?Maybe my New rock boots?? I mean idk
27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?Spearmint
28: sunrise or sunset?Sunset
29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?She used to make necklaces and make it as a birthday gift. I still have two necklaces that she made for me as a gift and I still wear them and I still love them
30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?Oh yea
31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.Socks are cool and I love them, only that I usually forget to buy them and then I’m like “damn it, I’d love some nice socks to this outfit but I don’t have any..”
32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.I think it was 2015 summer and I was totally drunk with my best friend, we were both fangirling/fanboying over Tobi and I remember he did something really hot and sexy - he poured some whiskey on my neck and licked it. Idk if he remembers that but my gods, I still can remember that and yea lol
33: what’s your fave pastry?Pies, cakes, buns of various kinds
34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?It was a big pink sheep, I loved it so much because it was so cute and big and yea. I don’t think I named it. Idk, I hope my mother didn’t throw it away
35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?I don’t really use them, tho I have one for when I’m writing
36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?Danheim and Wardruna
37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?Totally messy
38: tell us about your pet peeves!This is one of my biggest pet peeves. I really hate those fans who are like “I’m gonna die if I won’t be in a first row and I’ll do absolutely EVERYTHING to be there”. Yes, I get them and yes we all live being in a first row but man, those fans are so damn annoying. Like sure, I always try to be in a first row but I don’t bitch if I’m not
39: what color do you wear the most?Black, bit of red and blue
40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?My Mjolnir necklace. Well my old one was missing and till this day I haven’t found it so I bought the one I have now and well, it’s my amulet so it means a lot to me
41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?Good omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!I don’t really have favorite one
43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?This makes me sad because I never did that
44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?Last autumn when I was in Krakow
45: do you trust your instincts a lot?I dunno
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.I’m so bad and thinking of puns tbh
47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?Beetroot soup
48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?Darkness. Oh no, I loooove darkness now
49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?YES, I love it. Last ones were the newest Rammstein album and Wardruna - Runaljod - Ragnarok
50: what’s an odd thing you collect?I don’t think I collect any odd things
51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?Sooner than now by Sin cos tan
52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?I don’t think I have any???
53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?I’ve seen Beetlejuice and Pulp fiction and I love both of them
54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?Me
55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?Cry
56: what are some things you find endearing in people?The way they talk about something they are passionate about, the way they blush or try to be modest
57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?I always have goosebumps when listening to it and yes I do sing along
58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?Group of friends? hahah, it’s so bold to assume that I have a group of friends..
59: what’s your favorite myth?I love the myth of Ragnarok
60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?Nope, I don’t like it
61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?Can’t remember in both cases tbh
62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?I don’t drink juice in the morning
63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?I try to keep them organized
64: what color is the sky where you are right now?Dark but almost clear with few clouds
65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?YES
66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?Maybe something like this
67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?I dunno, sometimes I love it sometimes I don’t
68: what’s winter like where you live?We used to have cool snowy winters
69: what are your favorite board games?Monopoly
70: have you ever used a ouija board?Nope
71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?Black
72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?I guess, never thought about this much
73: what are some of your worst habits?Being lazy, kinda being hot head
74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.Smart, pretty, tall, has a good heart, funny, serious, helpful, has their own strong opinion about a lot of things, stubborn
75: tell us about your pets!I don’t have any :/
76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?I dunno, maybe
77: pink or yellow lemonade?Neither
78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?Neither
79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?My best friend giving me a nickname which happened to be the one I use a lot now
80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?It’s creamy color, well I had a small voice of choosing them but I’m okay with them
81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.Oh no, I suck at describing stuff like this
82: are/were you good in school?Noo, I was sooo bad in school
83: what’s some of your favorite album art?
84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?Yep, I have so many plans for them. I’m still planning on getting more band/lyric related tattoos, also Tolkien one and the one with wolf and triquetra
85: do you read comics? what are your faves?I tried to get into reading them but I can’t buy any of them here and I hate reading them online
86: do you like concept albums? which ones?Yep, well basically all Avantasia albums lol
87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?The Matrix, Kill Bill, Intouchables, Wild tales, The legend of 1900, Scent of a woman, Wag the dog
88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?Idk
89: are you close to your parents?Not really
90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.Krakow. The city that feels home to me, not only because it holds so much history of Lithuania but also because there is something about it that I just can’t describe... As my dad said it is a king city and it feels so, Krakow has a Wavel castle and so many other ancient buildings, maybe that’s why I love it so much. Even it seems that the life in it goes bit differently from any other cities, but from small Old town streets to Jewish district and to beautiful cemeteries everything makes me so happy there.
91: where do you plan on traveling this year?I do plan to travel to Poland, then to Czech republic and then to Germany
92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?Cheese, yes I love myself a lot of cheese on my pasta
93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?I don’t have any other hairstyles other than the one I have in all my pictures
94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?My best friend
95: what are your plans for this weekend?Don’t have any
96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?It depends on my mood
97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?ENFP, libra and i have no idea of my hogwarts house and I don’t really care
98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?Last autumn, yes, I love hiking
99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Far From Heaven by Battle beast Dancing With The Beast by Battle beast So Good It Hurts by Lord of the lost Harvest by NightwishRunaway train by Avantasia Hoffnung by Doro I Wish by Battle beast Traust by Heilung Serpentine by Pretty maids Ich weiß es nicht by Lindemann
100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?Definitely past, because I have so many mistakes to fix and so many moments to relive
Thank you and sorry if my answers suck
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First Shot at a prompt!! Okay... Small angst but happy ending. It's Virgil's birthday and Remy, Logan, Roman & Patton are planning a surprise birthday party for him!!! But... Them keeping it a secret makes Virgil think that they forgot.
*sips warm chocolate* You seem to know me far to well XD(angst and fluff is so my jam)
((It is waaaaaaaaaaaaay longer than the previous prompts (and a bit more world building.. idk) so A LOT of it is under read more))’
*looks at all the words**presses post button*YEEEEEEEEEEET!
Remy entered the cafe he knew Virgil’s friends were at, Virgil would have been with them if he wasn’t currently home due to a nasty cold. Remy looked around before he caught sight of the trio. Logan sat with his head in a book, Roman was clearly telling a story with how much his body moved, Patton listening with rapt attention nodding along with a blinding smile.
He waltzed over a big grin on his lips.
“’Sup Gurls!” he called, Logan looked up from his book, Patton let his eyes leave Roman to look at Remy and he waved with a smile in greeting, Roman closed his mouth having clearly been in the middle of explaining something overly dramatic explanation of what had happened.
“HI Remy!” Patton said grinning back.
“Salutations.” Logan stated
“Greetings.” Roman responded once he’d realised who it was that interrupted his epic story.
Patton moved closer to the wall to give Remy space to sit on the couch at the table. Remy smiled and sat down, taking a sip from the drink he had gotten before moving over to them.
“What brings you here, Remy?” Patton asked “Is Virgil okay? he wrote that he’s sick.”
“The kid’s fine, he just caught a nasty cold, the most he’s doing is moving from the bed to the bathroom.” Patton opened his mouth to ask something but Remy already knew and started talking before Patton could ask “And i made sure to leave enough rations for him to eat from, a thermos with soup and tea and some sandwiches. He’ll be back to normal in no time.” Patton closed his mouth and smiled. “But that isn’t the reason as to why I came here.” Remy said and leaned his head forward to look over his sunglasses. “It’s ma baby bro’s b-day soon, and what do you three say about helping me throwing him a surprise party?”
“OOOH! I’D LOVE TO!” Patton cheered
“That will be satisfactory.” Logan said giving away one of his rare smiles
“It will be EPIC!” Roman said in his dramatic flare. Remy grinned.
Virgil would surely love it!
Virgil woke up with a groan, checking the time on his phone, he groaned louder when he saw the time and the date.
It was 7 in the morning and his birthday.
“To frigging early.” Virgil grumbled as he rolled over to his side closing his eyes, showing the world that he was gonna go back to sleep.30 minutes later left him no closer to sleep than before.
his phone suddenly pinged causing Virgil to groan and roll over again grabbing the phone to see three messages, he pulled his phone closer squinting at the to bright screen before he lowered the intensity to see three messages, one from Thomas, Joan and Talyn, and one from Thomas alone, and to Virgil’s surprise one from Lilly. He unlocked his phone to see what the messages said.
The one from Thomas, Joan and Talyn said nothing but Happy Birthday in all caps and surrounded by heart and party emojis. Virgil smiled slightly at the overuse only causing him to snort. the message from Thomas alone was almost an whole essay on how much he wished Virgil a happy day and how happy he was for having him as a friend. Virgil would deny any claim that he cried a bit. the one from Lilly was a short gif of her giving the phone screen a fist-bump with the letters “You got this.“ Virgil smiled, she was the one who had given the advice to try therapy and had found Dr. Pecani’s place, Virgil hadn’t thanked her enough for it. even if it took Remy to literary drag him there the first time due to Virgil almost succeeding in barricading himself in the bathroom due to the stress of meeting someone new and god forbid TALKING!
Virgil answered the texts before he sat up and decided that he would just get bored if he stayed in bed any longer if he couldn’t fall asleep again.
The house was silent and Virgil groaned for the third time since he woke up to see the world covered in white.
“We live in Florida, how the fudge is there snow outside!” he grumbled before entering the kitchen fixing a sandwich for breakfast before starting the tv and aimlessly watched the early terrible shows on it, to lazy and uncaring to change the channel or start Netflix.
“What in Starbucks names are you doing awake?!” a sleepy voice suddenly said from the stairs causing Virgil to look up at a disgruntled Remy, his hair was a mess and he was still half asleep.
“My body decided that 7 am was the time to wake up.”
“That was 3 hours ago.” Remy groaned before he entered the kitchen. the sounds of him fixing breakfast filtered into the living room.
“Wait.” Remy suddenly said leaning out from the doorway, holding a cartoon of milk and the box of cereal in his hands, looking more awake than when he came down from the bedrooms. “Don’t you have a session with Emile today?”
“Not until 14.” Virgil replied. Remy nodded before he returned into the kitchen. Virgil felt a small sense of confusion, why hadn’t Remy said anything about what day it was? he was usually quit good at keeping tabs on things like this. Sure Remy did have a tendency to go a bit overboard with the gifts, but he never forgot a birthday, but still, now when Virgil started to think about it, Remy, Logan, Roman and even Patton hadn’t even mentioned his birthday approaching.
Virgil didn’t notice Remy sit down on the cough next to him, holding his bowl of cereal in one hand and spoon in the other, he looked at the tv screen before snorting and reached for the remote and changed the channel to Cartoon-Networks. he sent a look to Virgil only to stiffen, he knew the face Virgil made when he was thinking to hard and to dark. Remy put his bowl on the table before the cough before he turned to face his little brother.
“Virgil?” he called, and got no reaction. “Hey, Virge.” Remy placed his hand on Virgil’s knee, feeling him jolt at the sudden touch. Virgil blinked before looking at Remy. “What’s wrong?”
“… Nothing…” Virgil said looking away.
“Hey, please don’t lie to me.”
“It’s nothing really.”
“Virgil. if you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, could you at least tell Emile, just to not bottle it up?” Remy pleaded. Virgil sent him a look before exhaling.
“Fine.” he grunted.
Emile picked up on Virgil’s distress instantly when he entered the room.
“Hey Virgil, do you how do?”
“Fine… i guess” Virgil said and shrugged
“OH! its your birthday today isn’t it?! Happy birthday Virgil!” Emile said throwing his arms out and grinning.
Virgil smiled but it was a bit strained. Emile noticed even if he didn’t point it out until a while into the meeting.
“What is troubling you Virgil?” he asked “I noticed you seemed more ‘agitated’ when you first walked in.” Emile said in a calm tone as he sent Virgil the question, Virgil stiffened, opening his mouth to day that it was nothing, but he had promised Remy to talk to Emile about it… and Virgil was not someone to back out of a promise without a very good reason to.
“It’s just-” he sighed fiddling with his hoodie “I-”
“Hey, It’s okay to express yourself. Take the time you need to gather your thoughts.” Virgil sighed slumping in the sofa before he rubbed his hand against his neck.
“It’s kinda stupid.”
“Humour me.” Emile said with a serious tone “No feeling is stupid.”
“It’s just… it’s my birthday today… but only you, Thomas, Talyn, Joan and Lilly has said anything…” Virgil’s voice cracked
“Hey, it’s okay, grab some tissues. Let’s work some issues.” Emile said as he moved the tissue box over to Virgil who took it with shaking hands
“I’m scared that the others have forgotten… they haven’t even said anything about it… nor asked me what i want, like they did last year…”
Emile grimaced behind his notepad “You can be a bit to good in keeping secrets, Remy.” Emile thought before he gave Virgil a smile.
“I’m doubt they have forgotten about your Birthday, Virgil, they love you very much, and i can say that from a personal view point. we all love you.” Virgil snorted slightly as he rubbed one of the tissues under his eyes, smudging the eye shadow way more than before and making the tissue turn grey.
“Thanks-” he croaked out.
Virgil had decided to walk home from the meeting with Emile that day, to clear his head, he most often than not did this, and now with the snow still covering the ground the cold helped him keep his mind from spiralling.
He halted once he could see the apartment he and Remy shared when both of them started at the same college, tho ten years apart. there were a few cars to many at the drive way, Remy’s old slightly rusted Lamborghini stood as normal on the driveway, but it was the two other cars that caused him to halt, Remy hadn’t mentioned anything about them having visitors.
“Remy you are so dead.” Virgil growled as he walked over to the door, pushing his anxiety down as he opened the door the apartment was silent and… dark? Virgil blinked wasn’t Remy home?
“Remy?!” Virgil called as he removed his jacket and boots “If you’re passed out on the cough again i swear i’m not to be blamed for whatever happens to your face!” he thought he heard a stifled snort from the living room. Virgil stilled, before he moved closer, then the moment he entered the lights were turned on
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” a choir of voices called. Virgil startled taking a step back as his eyes widened and he took in the scene, Patton stood in the middle with a beaming smile, holding a gigantic birthday cake full of burning candles, with the purple letters “Happy Birthday Virgil” with a heart written on it in Logan’s organised yet beautiful writing. Logan stood next to him with a smal smile of his own. Roman was grinning there he stood next to a table full of presents. Thomas, Joan and Talyn was there as well all smiling at him. Emile was there as well and he gave Virgil a small wave still smiling. Remy was no where to be seen.
“You knew?!” Virgil asked the therapist who gave away a sheepish smile
“Yeah… but i was told not to say anything, and i wanted to tell you right there and then… but I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”
“Wait.” Virgil said looking around, instantly on guard “Where’s Remy?” just as the name left his lips two strong hands grabbed him from behind hoisting him up in the air. causing Virgil to scream
“No touching the Face!” Remy laughed as he pulled Virgil into a bear hug, still keeping his feet from touching the floor.
“GUAH! LET ME DOWN!” Virgil barked struggling in the hold. laughter echoed in the room and the sound of a camera. Virgil was put back to the floor and Remy just ruffled his hair.
“Happy birthday, Virge.”
“Now!” Patton called gaining everyone’s attention “CAKE!”
#sanders sides#brothers hc#virgil#sleep#logan#roman#patton#Dr. Picani#talyn#joan#thomas#lilly#text#the fox writes#phlying-squirrel
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FFXIV WRITE 2021 // Prompt #11 Preaching to the Choir
🛑TW: mention of sex? idk is that a tw?
“He’s so attractive~.” The keeper woman covered her mouth as the group passed, soft blue eyes locked on her prize as white tipped ears perked to attention in dark hair. The golden elezen woman beside her tucked her head, cupping one corner of her mouth to feign a murmur conspiratorially.
“Do you see the tiny little blonde next to them? Do you think he’s the assistant or something? Would he help us get that big dusky one on the right on a dinner date?”
“We should definitely ask!”
An irritated throbbing was starting in Shear’s temples. He followed just behind Kalona and Kolli through the winding cobblestone streets of Vylbrand’s capital city-state, Limsa Lominsa. A leather bound ledger book in his hand and a pen in the other, keeping track of the two other viera’s purchases while the gulls squawked and called as they circled above the merchant’s row. It wasn’t thrilling work and he’d rather be working a mission or having his face stuffed screaming into his bedsheets, but here he was.
Miserable and unable to tune the only-half-correct chittering hens out of his ears.
The two women bounced to their feet off the bench they’d been perched on and crept after the trio winding through the crowded stalls. One long blonde ear half turned to listen to the clicking of their heels on the stone. Kalona and Kolli just in front of him were discussing purchasing rope, roof anchors, a new set of bracers for the former, and a new sword for the latter and seemed to not be paying attention. Shear scribbled the items down on the left of his column for the future.
A vendor hawking blades gleaming in the sunlight caught Kolli’s attention, who elbowed Kalona and pointed.
“Hoy, look. You see that?” He spoke Golmoran’s mother tongue while it was just them, and Kalona turned from looking at a different merchant towards the direction where Kolli motioned. Giving a snort, the older male arched a brow.
“Do you want to take a look? I think I want to go take a look there. Shear,” Kalona stopped and patted the blonde’s head. “Please keep him from spending too much, ay?” Giving them both a nudge, Kalona turned and waved over his shoulder. “Join me when you’re done or I’ll join you when I’m finished.”
Excitedly, Kolli’s teeth bared in a broad grin, gripping Shear’s arm as he started off. His fingers dug into the pliable skin and Shear gave a sharp exhale at it. As the rava dragged him towards the stall, he leaned in to mutter in his ear, “Don’t fucking tattle on me and only write down what I don’t cover on my own. You hear me, snitch?” He then pushed Shear away as they arrived in front of the rows of blades to immediately pick up his favorite to inspect.
Rubbing the place where Kolli’s fingers had dug, Shear nodded and moved out of the way with a sigh. Much to the disappointment of the women sneaking behind them who crept closer, wanting to hear what they were saying. The gossip clucking continued.
“I can’t hear what they’re saying. Did you catch any of that?” The miqo’te gave her friend’s skirts a yank as she realized they’d stopped, spinning to face the end of a fruit cart and pretending to look over the oranges arranged on the seller’s tray.
“Cause I don’t think it’s Eorzean, Miya.” Sharp green eyes peeked towards Kolli around her friend, squinting. “Also did that seem a little strange, the way he grabbed at his assistant?”
Miya shrugged, ears giving a tiny flutter and waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t you Ishgardians manhandle your servants all the time, Faiyelle? Maybe the blonde said something stupid like ‘You can’t spend too much gil here!’ or ‘Gosh you big hunk of dusky muscle, do you need another sword to match the one between your legs?’ I’m just guessing here, of course~.”
“What?! Miya, that's so dirty! And no! Where did you even hear-? Ugh, nevermind. It just struck me as rude, is all.” Faiyelle wrinkled her nose and tucked a curl of brown hair behind one delicately pointed ear. A dark hand came up and poked at her nose. Faiyelle swatted it away with a small hiss.
“Don’t make that face, you’ll get wrinkles.” Miya cupped both sides of her own face, casting her eyes down at the stone while she squished her cheeks. Her lips puckered in a pout. “Do you think he’ll want shy and demure or,” The hands released her face to squeeze a fist and pull one corner of her mouth wide in a crooked grin. “Brave and cocky?”
“I think you’re ridiculous and we all get wrinkles. Eventually.” A golden hand rose to pinch at the tuxedo colored ear and Miya gave a whine, batting at it. “Have you tried, I dunno, just being yourself?”
“That’s boring! And I don’t want to be boring, I want him to want me.” Settling her hands over her chest, Miya gave a longing sigh. “I want that thick lug of attractive muscle to pick me up and rail me so hard I can’t stand for a moon--”
“Ahhh, Miya shhh! That’s disgustinggg~!” Cackling and giving her friend a shove, Faiyelle covered her ears after. Miya, who echoed the laugh and shoved her back, pointed and cackled at the elezen as she wobbled. A tiny growl from the windmilling woman and the two started a small shoving match beside the fruit stall, laughing all the while.
Much to the dismay of the fruit seller, whose current customers were glancing between the fruit and the women and wondered if this sudden hysteria was caused by the oranges.
The laughing ruckus, however, also caught Kolli’s attention off the blades and stormy grey eyes peered in their direction, curious. Shear angled himself in front of Kolli’s bent form but the rava stood straight to see over his head. The blade was set back into the weapon’s rack.
“Hoy yeah? What’s going on over there? A fight, maybe? Ooo, a woman fight? Nice.” Kolli spoke aside to Shear, even if his attention wasn’t on him and was focused on the elezen yanking at her whining companion’s ears.
“N-no, it’s… Just some idiotic women are just playing with each other. Pay them no mind.” Shear pointed at the blade Kolli had set down. “That seemed nice. Do you want it?”
“Idiotic women playing with each other, eh? Sounds like my kinda scene. And nah, it’s shit. The weight’s off and the handle is going to shatter apart the moment the blade gets struck with anything heavier than a dead dodo bird. It just looks good to make people buy them. I’m gonna go check out the fruit seller instead~.” Looking amused and wandering towards the women shrieking with laughter and wrenching at each other, Kolli sidled to lean on the end of the cart they’d previously occupied to watch.
Shear, even more miserable and thoroughly annoyed now, followed.
Miya had gotten Faiyelle in a headlock as they stamped around, still trying to one up the other. Her hand was buried in the brown mass of strands, currently in the process of pulling the pins out of her carefully coiffed hair. “Ha! Ugly hair! Ugly haaair!”
“Miya you rat, stop that this instant! This took forever to do! I’m going to kill you!” Faiyelle pulled at the arm around her neck with a wail, the threat obviously empty.
From his lean, Kolli gave a tiny whistle and both women paused, expecting a Yellowjacket to have shown up to break up their fun when they looked up. Miya squeaked and dropped her friend’s head abruptly who immediately toppled forward at the lack of support to land on the cobblestones at the viera’s feet with an audible ‘oof’.
“Hello~ ladies. Looks like you two are having fun?” Kolli’s deep voice spoke Eorzean fluently, although the underlying accent tipped at the edges of his tone. Faiyelle quickly pushed to her knees, spluttering.
“H-hi. Y-yeah, t-tons of fun.” Miya stuttered her reply, raising a waving hand in greeting, still flushed from the two of them playing around.
“A damn shame your dress got dirty,” Kolli crossed the road from the cart, leaning down to offer Faiyelle help up from the ground. The elezen woman turned pink and accepted the hand, murmuring her thanks. Pulled to her feet, Kolli retracted the hand and tipped his head. “What were the two of you fighting about, anyroad?”
“D-duh… uhhhh-” Miya’s thoughts stumbled and Faiyelle backed up a step to elbow her friend sharply in the side to kickstart her brain. “DUMPLINGS.” Jerking upright, Miya blurted the word, then… looked confused why she’d blurted that word.
Faiyelle beside her covered her face with her palm. "Hopeless." Dropping the hand and clearing her throat as if she hadn't just mumbled it into her hand and hair now a tangled, half pulled-apart mess, Faiyelle offered a wide smile. “We were just considering what to get for dinner, and there’s a lovely dumpling place on the other side of town. It’s new! We were debating which dumpling was better. I’m a fan of the sauced boar, my friend Miya prefers the shrimp. Do… Do you have a preference?”
Starry-eyed at how smoothly her friend had covered her blunder, Miya raised a thumbs up at Faiyelle. The elezen quickly grabbed and stuffed it behind her back.
Kolli considered the question while he watched them fuss, clearly delighted, arms crossing as he thought about it. “I think my favorite type of dumplings are the ones with the tiny rolled balls of meat and the strong soup inside the wrapper. The ones you eat off the wide spoons?”
“Ah! I have ah, always wanted to try those, and they sell them at the place we were considering going to. W-would you… want to join us?” Faiyelle cocked that gun and fired it, bravely. Who needed the assistant’s help anyway?
The veena looked smug from where he stood. There’s no way Kolli would-
“Sure, I’d love that. Let me tell my companions they’re gonna be on their own for dinner. Where’s the place again, and when would you like to meet up?” Kolli smiled wide at the two suddenly excited women who gave him directions and planned to meet a bell later.
Shear’s teeth grit, lip curling in disgust as they talked. Mood curdled, when Kolli waved goodbye and turned his direction as the women hurried away, a brow perked at the sour expression. The Golmoran tongue returned. “Did something fucking crawl inside you and die while I was gone? Why the fuck are you making that face?”
“Forget it. You wanted to buy a sword, right?” Shear turned his poor mood down at his ledger, flipping a page. “We can hit a different stall and--”
“Hold up, fucker. Don’t lie to me. What’s your problem?” Kolli gripped his chin and turned it up, glaring down at him. “Speak.”
“Th-the… I did not lie, I only said to forget it. We can-” The hand on his jaw shook it firmly, rattling Shear’s thoughts and making him dizzy.
“Spit. It. Out.”
“Fine! You are going to go on a stupid date with some stupid women you don’t even know and leaving Kalona and I to eat by ourselves. Ass.” In a grumbling mutter, Shear met Kolli’s narrowed gaze with one of his own.
“... Pff. Wait. You think it’s a date?” The returned amusement broke the stern look on the rava’s face and the grip on Shear’s chin squeezed hard. The veena’s hand with his pen rose to try to ease it off, eyes widening as the rava stepped close. He leaned down to murmur against the pained veena’s mouth. “It ain’t a date. I’m gonna go eat my fill of dumplings on their coin, fuck one or both of those annoying prats for the meal, and then I’m gonna come back to the room and fuck you even more fucking stupid than you’re being right now, later. Okay?”
Shear’s face flamed red, struggling to speak a moment at the private and rather close declaration of Kolli’s intentions as well as the painful hold he had on his jaw. He squeezed at the hand, speaking low while Kolli was so near. “Y-you are bathing first. I d-don’t want whatever they have a-anywhere near me.”
Releasing his face, Kolli moved away from Shear giving a loud whoop of laughter. “You’re so fucking pathetic, it’s embarrassing! Go buy a toy or something thick to occupy yourself with until I get back to the room. You gotta know even those two bitches aren’t going to come close to satisfying me, and I’m gonna be just riled up by the time I return.” Angling his shoulders in the direction of their mentor with a snicker, he flashed a wink. “Seeya later. I’m gonna go tell Kalona about my date.”
Watching the chortling rava move to join Kalona at the other stall, who was holding a sturdy looking fishing rod while the vendor pointed at the various pieces, Shear slapped the book closed around his pen. Jamming it into the bag at his side before he dropped the damn thing, the viera turned on his heel and started away in a blind direction further into the markets. Stopping a few stalls away at a potter’s cart to inspect a cup without really seeing it, his mind buzzed around wildly as his face burned.
Kolli didn’t have to tell him those women wouldn’t satisfy him. He already knew that. And yet he had anyway. Was it gloating, or reassurance? Shear didn’t know, and he had no idea why Kolli would tell him to get a toy to play with while he was gone. Let alone a thick one?
He wasn’t a kid.
The dawning realization of what Kolli had meant slapped him suddenly and the cup in his hand dropped, shattering on the cobblestone below him. Both hands rose to cover his beet-colored face as he ducked in a squat, ears laid back against the harping of the potter behind her bench at his recklessness.
From back the way he’d come, Kolli’s laughter echoed loudly amongst the chattering din of the market.
#ffxivwrite2021#Shear Kinestti#ffxiv#new muse#introducing: more fucking npcs#prompt 11#preaching to the choir#lets be real Miya and Faiyelle are based on the real thirsty thoughts ive had expresed about Kolli#Pls he's such a bastard and I love him#Id have him not actually be dead except that'd make it real weird for Shear#just gotta enjoy him in the past /swoon#tw: sex talk#i guess#since they mention it
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Punk (Chap. 4)
Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.
Word count: 1878
Warnings: Cursing, low-self esteem, chubby!reader x bucky, idk….
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I needed some time. I’ve got the next few chapters just about ready to go…and I’m gonna try and make them hurt ;) yay angst!
After Natasha successfully slammed you to the mat for the sixteenth time in a row you finally cried ‘uncle’ and ended the hour long workout/torture session. You’d come here to kickbox and beat the holy hell out of a bag but a certain spider had other ideas.
“I deserve this,” you groaned. Your chest heaved as your lungs strained for breath. The amorphous blob of a sweatshirt you insisted on wearing while exercising was soaked with sweat and made you feel as if you were slowly cooking in one of Hell’s saunas. “This is why I hate exercising.” Nat extended a hand to pull you to your feet but you shook your head dramatically on the mat. “No, just leave me here to die. I quit. You go out and fight the good fight. I’ll save my skills and start a nice, quiet dart league or somethin’.” Natasha rolled her eyes and kicked your leg. “No, seriously. I retire my knives to you. My guns, throwing stars, all of it. Take care of Ferd for me. Tell him his mummy loved him,” you wailed with a huge fake sob.
Nat chuckled as she sipped from her water bottle. You did this every time she beat you; abandoned your position on the team, gave away your possessions, forced someone to take care of Ferdinand after you were gone. Granted, hand-to-hand wasn’t really your strong suit. You were a sniper…of sorts. A deadshot. A bulls-eye artist. Basically, you always hit your target….except when it came to love…
Speaking of love… “Aw, come on. You can’t die on me, Punk.” Bucky’s throaty chuckle caught you off guard and you scrambled to your feet, blowing out your cheeks at the nickname. Punk Uuuunnnngggghhh. He was leaning against the door to the training room, shirt soaked with sweat and clinging to his torso. The ripples and panes of muscle became more defined with each breath. God, he was so rude! Who did he think he was?! Just walking around looking like that?! Ugh. He was all sweaty and slightly out of breath, but his eyes were bright and he looked like he was fucking glowing. Who looks like that after they run twenty miles in an hour?!
You, on the other hand, looked like a boiled potato. After an hour of having your ass introduced to the floor on loop, your face was bright red, you had underboob sweat stains, the deodorant you had obsessively applied earlier had failed about forty-five minutes ago, and sweat was running down from your hair in long rivulets. Why were you so gross? Nat wasn’t sweating like a pig and she had been working out just as hard as you. You sighed inwardly. Everything you did just seemed to fall somewhere on the ‘disgusting spectrum’. Usually leaning towards ‘ugh’ or ‘blegh’ but right now you were done right ‘oh dear lord’.
“Hey, B,” you mumbled quickly, trying to fix your rats nest of a ponytail and wiping the sweat from your brow.
“Hey. Glad ta see you’re still alive,” he chuckled at you, giving you a flash of those pearly whites. “Just stopped in ta let ya know that the food’ll be here in thirty. Best get cleaned up.” And with that he waved and walked out of the gym.
“Let’s save water and shower together,” you whined at his retreating form.
Nat barked in laughter. “Oh my god, you should’ve said that!”
“Aaaahhhh-bsolutely not.”
“Oh come on! That would be the perfect way to flirt with him.”
“No, that would be the perfect way to watch me spontaneously combust.”
“How about we try flirting tonight?” the red head suggested.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” you teased.
“Yeah, how do you think I got ‘im?” She quirked an eyebrow up at you.
Touché.
“Get off the fucking counter!” Tony hollered. He was trying to unpack the Chinese food bags but a certain fat, black cat was sticking his nose in containers of Chow Mein, knocking packages of duck sauce onto the floor, and yowling obnoxiously at the billionaire. “One of these days, cat, I’m gonna—”
“Tony, if you lay one finger on Ferdinand I will carve you up like a Thanksgiving turkey.” You strolled into the kitchen wearing your typical post-shower attire: wet hair in a messy bun, flannel pajama bottoms, and a New York Rangers hockey t-shirt. Ferdinand purred loudly at you and you cradled him like a baby in your arms. “Did that mean old man yell at my precious little baby?” you cooed. “My poor lil pumpkin.”
“Just keep him away from me,” Tony muttered, glaring at the cat in your arms. “And off the counters!”
You gave him a dramatic salute. Bucky came up from behind you and pulled Ferd from your arms. “Hey, buddy.” The cat began to purr like a speed boat as the super soldier held him. “You causin’ trouble?” He walked over to the dining room table and cradled Ferd in his lap as he began to spoon boneless ribs onto a plate.
“B, don’t give him any food!” you scolded, knowing full well what he was about to do. “He’s too fat.”
“Y/N! You’re gonna give him low self-esteem!” Bucky cried dramatically and you couldn’t hide your smile. “Poor Ferdinand,” Bucky cooed, slipping the cat a piece of pork. “Your mama is always fat-shaming you. Doesn’t she know that looks don’t matter?! Tsk Tsk. Well, I love ya for who ya are, buddy.” He gave the cat a loud smooch and sat him on the floor to go beg for scraps from the other team members.
“Buck,” you whined, seeing Ferd lick the pork from his lips.
Bucky merely sent you a toothy grin. “Come on, Punk. He was hungry! Come eat.”
With an inward cringe at the nickname you grabbed a bowl for you soup and looked around the table. Nat and Clint had appropriated some portion of the other’s chair as they ate. Wanda was pouring drinks and passing them down. Steve and Tony were calling out orders and handing out steaming cartons of noodles to their owners. Sam managed to steal the open seat next to Bucky, much to your dismay, and you were forced to sit between Thor and Vision, far away from your favourite super soldier, at the opposite end of the table.
Conversation buzzed around you, but you didn’t really feel up to participating. This happened sometimes, lately more often than not. Something just seemed to happen to you when it came to….eating. Now, you loved food. It was kind of obvious actually. Half the time you planned your next meal while eating the current one. But lately, and you weren’t sure exactly when it started, every time you ate something, even something you really liked, like pizza or ice cream or spaghetti, you felt….guilty?….bad?…ashamed?
With every bite you felt like you were somehow doing something wrong, something forbidden. An obsessive need to count calories occasionally seized your mind. Half the time it felt like you spent more time reading nutrition labels than actual books! And those feelings were only amplified when you were forced into eating around the others. You felt like some sort of zoo creature around them. Oh look, meal time at the hippo pond!
You popped half a dumpling into your mouth. Ferdinand rubbed up against your leg under the table, hoping that food would fall from the sky. Absently, you began to push your noodles around the plate, losing your appetite as the others munched away happily on crab rangoons and sesame chicken. Angry, self-loathing thoughts bubbled to the surface in your mind. Were the others looking at you while you ate? Judging you for the food you put in your mouth? Look at Y/N, shovelling it in like garbage truck. Were they as disgusted be you as you were? Did they think of you as fat slob with no self-control? Because that’s how you felt. Because even when you tried to be good and not eat so much, eventually hunger pangs tore through you and you just had to eat. And you didn’t always want salad or veggies. Sometimes you wanted cookies or peanut butter or candy. It was just so hard to—
“Y/N, are you going to eat that?” Thor interrupted your inner turmoil and pointed to the untouched egg roll on your plate. You shook your head and he grabbed it with a muffled ‘thanks!’ and shoved the entire roll in mouth.
You looked up and locked eyes with Sam. He mouthed, ‘you good?’ and you nodded putting a false smile on your face, not wanting to explain your loss of appetite.
“Who’s ready for desert?” Steve asked a few minutes later and was met with smatterings of approval. You helped Vision clear the plates, hoping to slip out of the kitchen and ditch desert without being noticed. Your self-control could not resist apple pie. It was your kryptonite.
“That’s the last of them,” Vision said turning off the sink and grabbing a set of desert plates and a cake knife. He gave you a small smile and walked back to the dining room as you dried the last of the bowls. You were just about ready to make a break for it when you turned around just as Bucky strolled into the kitchen. His dark hair was still slightly wet from his shower earlier causing his short curls to glisten in the light. God, he’s so fucking perfect. You licked your lips and quickly turned to put the last dish on the rack.
“Told ya there’d be pie,” he whispered as he grabbed the vanilla ice cream from the freezer, letting the cold air sweep over you. You shivered. Please let him think it’s just from the cold. “Come on, Punk.” Merhhh. “I know you can’t resist,” he teased with a twinkle in his eye that you couldn’t quite decipher. Great, he’s gonna lead the pig to the slop trough.
You sighed, torn as to what to do. If you rejected the pie he’d ask you who you were and what had you done with Y/N. If you ate the pie he’d see you eat the pie. He’d see you shovelling in spoonfuls of warm, mushy apple and crispy crust mixed in with sweet vanilla ice cream all the while sporting a blissed-out look on your face.
But either way, he knows you’re fat. The evidence was right in front of him, staring him in the face. Might as well eat the pie, hate yourself, and avoid any awkward questions. Bucky didn’t need to hear you whine about how grotesque you were. He didn’t want to hear about that. Nobody wanted to hear about it. It was your own stupid, gluttonous fault that you were this way. Nobody felt sorry for you. With a sniffled sob, you trudged back towards the others.
When you at back down at the table, Bucky gave you an enormous grin and handed you a plate with the biggest slice of pie and three scoops of ice cream, more than any of the others, and it took all you’re strength not to burst into tears. The biggest slob had gotten the biggest slice.
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#punk#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky x chubby!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky angst#mcu#mcu fanfiction#mcu fanfic#avengers fic#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier fanfic
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