#so this subject matter felt appropriate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkanonwrites · 1 year

Text

As Our Fingers Entwine

The end of the trilogy!!! I hope you all enjoy, both newcomers and those who have been eagerly anticipating this piece! It is in fact NSFW, appropriate tags below. Read it on AO3 here!

TRIGUN STAMPEDE EPISODE 7 SPOILERS IN FIC BELOW!

Vash/Reader, 6,000+ Words, AFAB Reader but no specific pronouns used, mutual pining, body worship, frottage, vaginal sex, alien biology, praise kink, enthusiastic consent, begging

You couldn't say for certain why the ambience of the peaceful town didn't lull you to sleep the same way the rattling underbelly of the Sand Steamer seemed to, but you had a distinct feeling it was because you weren't right next to Vash.

You'd never admit it aloud, mainly for fear of revealing your painfully obvious affections for your blond companion, but nowadays you always slept better with Vash by your side. And as happy as Vash seemed to have a room to himself and time to catch his breath, a selfish little part of you had hoped he'd be cheap again, crowd the two of you into a single room to save a few double dollars. The last time you truly got to sleep side-by-side with him was a few bumpy hours on the Sand Steamer, before the incident with the Bad Lads and the shootout and the, well, the entire steamer nearly catastrophically crashing to pieces. There wasn't much sleeping on the bus ride into town either, no matter how exhausted the both of you were.

And yet, when you collapsed face-first into the surprisingly comfy hotel bed, you found yourself agonizingly conscious. Somehow, a simple wall in between you and Vash was enough to keep you from getting a good night's sleep. Just when did you become so dependent? Now three nights have passed, each one spent tossing and turning, unable to get more than a few blissful moments of shuteye. It wasn't like you were scared, or even stressed! Your body had just acclimated to the idea of sleeping curled up next to Vash, and now without him…

"Hey, anybody home in there?"

"...Hmm? Oh! Oh, yeah, I'm listening." You hadn't realized you'd started to doze off at the diner table over your supper until Vash leaned over and snapped his fingers in front of your face. You jolted up, grabbing a wedge of your sandwich and jamming it quickly into your mouth as he gave you a soft and sympathetic smile, his salmon sandwich basically finished and his free hand twiddling a stray french fry back and forth across the plate. Ah, he must have been waiting for you.

"You're a little out of it today. Everything alright?"

You waved him off, taking a swig of water to force down the mouthful of bread and various fillings. "It's fine! Just not sleeping well, it's no big deal."

Your response didn't seem to soothe Vash's worries at all, as his little smile fell into a frown. "That's no good. Is everything alright? You don't feel unsafe or anything, do you?"

"Nonono, nothing like that, really!" His concern really shouldn't have been enough to fluster you, Vash would have been worried for just about anyone who looked as worn-out as you did. But it still hit a soft little spot in you, something eternally sensitive to Vash's care and attention that you had to do your absolute best to stifle basically every moment of every day. "It's just too quiet, you know? I'm not used to having a room to myself anymore, heh. Pretty silly, isn't it?"

Judging by the soft and further furrowing of Vash's brow, your placations did nothing to assuage his concern. "Is there anything I can do? To help, I mean."

Stay. Stay with me, always.

Yeah, right. Like you could actually say that out loud. You sunk further into your seat, feeling a bit like an insect under a magnifying glass in the face of his consideration. It felt as if one wrong word or move would suddenly and jarringly expose the affections you held for him that seemed so glaringly obvious at all times, always.

"I dunno. It's not a big deal, anyway. We don't have to worry about it."

He seemed to sense your own discomfort with the subject matter, and leaned gently back in his seat. "I saw there was a tailor in this town! If you want you can come with me tomorrow, maybe get that tear in your cloak patched up?"

You thumbed the rugged fabric edge in your hand, almost not wanting to. Vash had patched it for you last time, and though the job was a touch on the rough side you didn't exactly like the idea of someone undoing his heartfelt, albeit clumsy, stitchwork. But shopping with Vash? That definitely sounded like how you wanted to spend your afternoon.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Anywhere you wanna stop by?"

"Might pick up some ammo, but not much besides that!"

And you were certain that would be the end of it. Even after thumbing out a few double-dollars to pay for dinner, opening the diner door for you with a cartoonish bow, and chatting idly as the two of you made your way back towards the hotel, Vash didn’t broach the subject again. By the time you’d made it to the door of your room you were certain he’d forgotten about it. But just as you were about to wish him goodnight and slip through the crack of the doorway his hand came to rest upon the door handle, that familiar soft expression of concern sneaking back up across his face.

“If you wanted… I could stay until you fall asleep?" There was a distinct shyness about it, like he was genuinely afraid of what your reaction may be. "Just to see if it would help?"

You blinked at him once, twice, needing a moment to process the words he was saying before it actually clicked in your mind. Face growing hot, you prayed your expression didn't fully give away your embarrassment as an image wormed itself into your brain, an image of yourself in Vash's arms, his lips resting on the jut of your collarbone peeking from the hem of your shirt, of warm hands on the soft dip of your hips climbing higher, and higher…

Seeming to take your extended silence as rejection, or worse, disgust, Vash began to frantically backpedal, hand flying from the doorknob to tangle in the soft hair at the base of his neck. "You can say no! I just wanted to offer. Maybe that was a little weird, huh? Sorry, you can forget about it.”

But you didn't want to forget. Forgetting meant a return to… To whatever you and Vash were before that first night you woke up and saw him gazing at the stars. Forgetting meant pulling away again, faking a smile, pretending there was nothing there when you so desperately wanted there to be. Forgetting meant not acknowledging that he kept offering his hand to you, and that out of your own foolish anxieties you kept drawing away.

And yeah, maybe things could still go catastrophically wrong. But wasn't that what you loved about Vash in the first place? How the entire world could fall apart around him and he'd still get up again, offer you a smile and put his best foot forward?

You loved him. You loved him. And you were fucking sick of pretending you didn't. Your fingertips had closed around the fabric of his sleeve before you could second-guess yourself.

"Stay with me."

And oh, oh, if the expression that crawled its way up Vash's face wasn't worth any and every possible humiliation, rejection, or vague discomfort. Red bloomed up from his collar, creeping up his neck into his cheeks and the tops of his ears. He blinked twice behind his oversized lenses, gaze flicking from your face to where you'd gripped his sleeve and back again a few times over. A thin, wobbly smile snuck across his lips, making his relief obvious despite his conscious efforts to hide it. A peek of sharp canines glinted from the gap as he shot you a crooked, sheepish grin, despite being nearly as red in the face as his signature coat.

"Y-Yeah!" He winced at the way his own voice cracked, oblivious to just how endearing you found it. "Yeah, heh, no problem! Let me, let me get my… I'll be right back. Five minutes? Give me five minutes, pinkie promise."

He even interlocked his pinkie with your own, a small, familiar laugh sneaking out before he slipped, momentarily, from your grasp. You watched as he stumbled down the hall to his own room, fumbled the door handle once, twice, banging his body into the wooden frame before managing to get it open, never once taking his eyes off you until the door slipped closed. Cute.

You stepped into your own room, clicking on the bedside lamp and flooding it in a warm, yellowed glow. Shedding your day clothes as quickly as possible, you kicked them into a heap in the corner and scrambled into your pajamas, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Without Vash's buzzing, eager energy at your side you had just enough time before he returned to briefly feel incredibly embarrassed at your show of need, face growing hot as you replayed the little scene over and over in your mind. Your hand around his sleeve, his expressions, your choice of words… God, you were so obvious. Had he really not picked up on it at all? But he seemed so eager, as eager as you were at the very least. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had been a little oblivious lately.

True to his word, it couldn't have been more than five minutes before you heard a soft knock on the door to your room. Standing on the other side was Vash, not clad in his signature red jacket but rather his familiar, beige pajamas. The worn out shirt hung loose around the collar with the sleeves draping just long enough to cover half of his hands, the loose elastic of the sweatpants held tight with an old, white drawstring. His hair was floppy and now shower-damp, hanging partially in his face as he gave you that so soft, so sweet little smile.

"You look comfy." He said, voice as soft as his grin.

"I could say the same for you." You responded, cracking a similar smile. Stepping to the side you let him join you in your room, door closing with a soft click as a palpable air of… something simmered between you two. Tension? Nervousness? It felt like a melting pot of just about everything you had or could feel when it came to Vash. He stood awkwardly in the center of the room as you flitted around him towards the bed.

"You should probably get some rest, huh? I'll just grab a seat at…" He gestured vaguely towards one of the two chairs set at the table by the window, words dropping from his lips as he watched you pat the open space in the bed next to you. He blinked again, face flushing pink once more.

"...Only if you want to." You added softly. He visibly swallowed, nodding so gently you could have almost missed it, and set his glasses on the nightstand with a soft clack. Carefully, hesitantly, he pulled back the covers and let himself into the bed beside you, moving like he was afraid at any moment you were going to change your mind and ask him to leave.

You would never. You wanted him beside you. At all times, always.

He clicked off the lamp, and the two of you were plunged into darkness. A single stream of moonlight filtered between the thin curtains, falling diagonally across the bedroom floor and providing just enough light for you to keep Vash's face in view. When the two of you shared a sleeping bag for the first time the closeness was a necessity, there was nowhere else for you to go in the tiny shared space. But even now, with the width of the bed slim but still far greater than a sleeping bag could provide, you couldn't help but press yourself close to him. As always he was warm, so warm, heat radiating under the thin covers to soothe you, a constant thrum of energy just beneath his skin even when he was relaxed and doe-eyed as he was with you right now, laying on his side mirroring you, unable to look away.

In this moment you couldn't help but consider that Vash was more alive than you had ever been in your own lifetime, or that you ever would be. He was a walking enigma, incredibly powerful yet so gentle, capable of such inhuman feats but so intimately, painfully fragile. Maybe you'd never fully understand him the way you wanted to, maybe there would always be secrets he couldn't share or stories he wouldn't tell. But you didn't mind, not as long as he was yours and you were his.

"Hi." He murmured, breath hot against your lips, that small, sappy smile never leaving his own.

"Hi." You replied. "Is this… Is this okay?"

"Yes." There was a relief in his voice, a borderline reverence. His hand hovered, briefly, coming to rest on the small of your hip and sending a jolt of need crawling up your spine fast enough to give you a headrush. "Are we… okay?"

"Always."

He let out a low, shuddering breath, hand flexing around your hip. "I haven't… I want… I want…" His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. He let out another breath, a short, warm huff as he hesitated, brow knit like even now he was afraid of the oncoming rejection, the inevitable hurt.

The two of you really had been completely oblivious, hadn't you?

You closed the gap yourself. Slowly, carefully, for no more than a few moments, you pressed your lips to his. He gasped when you did, a sharp, surprised inhale through his nose before his entire body seemed to melt into your several points of contact: your legs, his hand on your hip, your lips. You watched his eyes slide open again after you pulled away, crease in his brow receding as he blinked at you, almost owlishly.

"You kissed me." He murmured, that air of reverence returning to his voice.

"I did." You said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and that's because it was.

"You'll… You'll always be in danger. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"We're always going to be moving. You wouldn't rather settle down somewhere nice?"

"Not if you're not there."

He sucked in another shaky breath, corners of his eyes growing glassy and wet. "It won't… It won't be easy. Being with me. It's hard."

"Vash." You cupped his face with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I promise you it's not. It's really not."

He positively beamed, knocking his forehead against yours as he burst into quiet giggles. "You're really amazing, you know? You're the most amazing person I've ever met."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Your own laughter joined his, and any hint of apprehension or concern Vash may have still held seemed to melt away in the face of your smile. "Now shush. Kiss me again."

He was clumsy, clearly overeager as he pressed his lips to yours once more. It started as another soft, fluttering thing, then a second, then a third, before you tipped your chin up and opened your mouth into the next kiss, inviting him to do the same. Fingers tangled in his soft hair, you pressed further into him, tasting honey and sunlight as you licked into his open mouth and he moaned against your lips. You didn't even realize he was moving you until you found yourself on your back, Vash's sturdy build boxing you in, knees framing your thighs as his teeth clicked wetly against yours and he groaned again at the feeling of your mouth moving against his. It was a messy, relief-stricken thing, like finding sweet, cool water after a day trekking across the open dunes. His still-flesh hand gripped your hip, fingertips indenting your soft skin, but his prosthetic hand cradled your cheek so gently, with such veneration it could have brought you to tears. There was a wet smack and a sharp gasp when he finally pulled away, like he was coming up for air. A single sticky strand of saliva still connected your lips, and as you swiped it off of his lower lip with a smile he gave you a sheepish grin in return.

"You gotta breathe through your nose, Vash."

"I know, I just…" He watches as you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking off the smear of spit there. He gulps, teeth worrying his lower lip. "...Just got a bit sidetracked, is all."

When he leaned back in a second time his target wasn't your lips, but the gentle slope of your neck. He placed a featherlight kiss upon you, relaxing when he heard your content hum and your fingers carded through the hairs at the base of his neck. Then he sucked a mark into the soft junction between your neck and exposed collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue lathing over the sensitive spot as you writhed beneath Vash's touch. His breath ghosted hotly over your neck, goosebumps prickling out across your skin as heat pooled low and eager in your stomach and you fisted one hand in the front of Vash's night shirt.

"Vash." You whined, and his low groan in response rumbled out against your already sensitive neck. "Vash." You moaned again, louder this time, needy but not completely sure what for.

"Hmm?" His questioning hum was barely discernible from his soft, pleased groans, only the uptick at the end of the throaty sound cluing you in that Vash had even heard you at all. His lips rested on the curve of your jaw, thumb trailing back and forth across your cheekbone. You fisted the back of his shirt in one hand and tangled the other in his messy hair, whimpering at each barely-there kiss he left as he trailed his way up your jawbone to your ear. "You're so soft. So, so soft."

His lips brushed the shell of your ear and you couldn't help yourself, whining as your hips jerked up against his. His breath stuttered and he jolted back from you to blink with wide, shocked eyes. Immediately a hot flush of shame coursed through your body, searing behind your eyes and cheeks. Was he disappointed? Disgusted?

"I'm so sorry." If you could shrink back and disappear you would, but it's not like there was anywhere for you to go. Vash's brow furrowed again for a moment before his eyes blew wide once more, immediately taking your face in both hands as gently as he could.

"No, no it's alright! There's nothing wrong you just- just surprised me a little! That's not bad! I just- Aw jeez." He pressed a kiss to your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. "Please don't cry. I promise I'm not upset or anything, so don't cry, okay?"

"I'm not gonna cry! I'm just… embarrassed." You mumbled between squished cheeks, eyes trained down and away from Vash's sympathetic smile.

“There’s no need to be.”

“I know that.” You whined, covering your eyes with the palm of your hand. You felt another fluttering kiss on the tip of your nose, and peeked through your fingers to find Vash beaming at you. There was a cautious apprehension behind his eyes now though, a similar fear to what you knew you were currently feeling.

“There is, uh, something I have to tell you though.” He fidgeted a little, not quite meeting your gaze. “It’s just that my body is kinda… Well, it’s a little… different? And I don’t want to freak you out or anything. But if you do freak out… That’s probably completely valid, I’ll be honest.”

“Vash, I’ve seen your scars before. You know I don’t mind, right?”

He winced a little, lower lip jutting out in a bit of a pout. “...That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s a… It’s a PLANT thing.”

“Oh.” As Vash sat back on your thighs you propped yourself up a bit to meet his gaze. “Well, that’s alright too. I won’t judge you for anything you can’t control, Vash.”

“Yeah but it’s… It’s pretty out there.”

“Try me.”

Vash opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it, then shut it again, blush crawling its way up his cheeks with his fisted hands tucked into his lap. He twiddled his thumbs, worried his lower lip with his sharp teeth, and still failed to meet your gaze.

"It's, uh, it's just that it's a bit… different. My, uh… y'know?"

You'd been pretty oblivious to Vash's affections for you, but that didn't mean you were stupid. The way his gaze flickered down and then back up again when he spoke? The way one hand fisted the fabric of his pants and the other remained firmly tucked between his thighs, not quite against his crotch but definitely blocking it from your view? You could at least put those puzzle pieces together.

You rubbed the top of his knee with your hand, and tension seemed to melt from his stance with your touch alone.

"Would you… be willing to show me?"

He grimaced a bit, continuing to nibble on his lower lip until you ran the thumb of your other hand across it, trying to soothe the reddened skin. "I just don't want to freak you out or anything, is all."

"You really think at this point there's anything you could do or say to freak me out?" You bumped your forehead against his, the same way he had for you just moments ago. "Hate to break it to you, but you're kind of stuck with me now." He barked out a laugh, saying nothing but finally meeting your gaze, so you continued. "I don't want you to feel like you have to make yourself uncomfortable for my sake, but I also don't want you to run away from me. You trust me, right?"

"I do."

"Then trust that I won't run away either. I promise. I just want you, Vash, that's all."

He sucked in a shuddering breath, nodding softly against you. "Yeah. I want you too." Looking up at you through his eyelashes, he flashed you a cartoonish pout. "Maybe if someone gave me another kiss I'd get a bit braver?"

"You dork." You giggled, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him breathless once more. He leaned into you again, mouth open and eager, finally letting his hands trail back up your body where you'd wanted them. "Wait, switch with me."

"Hrmm? Whoa!" You wrestled Vash to the side, rolling the two of you over until you were now the one straddling his hips, not the other way around. He blinked up at you, mouth agape and lips slightly slick as he took in your form in the pale moonlight. "Oh. I could get used to a view like this."

With a single, sudden twist upwards of your arms, you pulled off your shirt and let it fall somewhere off the side of the bed, baring your chest to him fully. Vash gasped, hands squeezing against your soft sides as his gaze raked over your form.

"This one too…" He murmured. Trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest, you fiddled with the hem at the bottom of his shirt, lifting a bit but not quite tugging.

"This okay?"

He nodded, hands joining yours to help wrestle his shirt off over his head. Immediately you were upon him, a featherlight trail of lips and fingertips upon every inch of scarred skin, tracing the outline of the metal reinforcement over his left pectoral as gently as you could. Your thighs squeezed around his hips, the front of his loose pajama pants tented and straining where they met your clothed core. He was big, that much was obvious. Another roll of your hips, not accidental this time but intentional, left Vash gasping out a sharp, labored wheeze as his hips finally jerked forward against yours.

"Sensitive." He panted, shuddering helplessly as his hips stuttered forward again. "C-Careful, it's sensitive."

That sensitive, with several layers of clothes still between you? Now you were getting really curious. You rolled your hips again, friction sparking pleasure up your spine but it was nothing compared to the way Vash positively mewled, back arching and hips rutting erratically to meet you. A dark, damp spot was beginning to seep through the fabric at the tip. You cupped his clothed length with your hand as gently as you could. 'Sensitive.' You reminded yourself. But a bolt of surprise rocketed through you instead when you could swear that, just for a moment, you felt his cock squirm against you, pressing up into your hand without the aid of his hips.

"Please don't freak out." Vash wheezed. You squeezed his length again, pressing in firmly, but it was impossible to tell what writhing was from Vash squirming around and what came from, well, Vash squirming around.

"I'm not freaking out." You reassured him, and in all honesty you weren't. Were you surprised? Of course! But there wasn't really anything about Vash that could truly "freak you out" anymore, even this. You stroked his length through the fabric once more and watched that wet spot at the tip bloom farther and darker, Vash shivering like he'd just touched a live wire. "Is it okay to take these off? Only if you're okay with it."

You hooked a finger into the waistband and waited, Vash's gaze laser focused in on your hand. Slowly, carefully, he nodded. Fingers looped in the elastic of both his pajama pants and his boxers, you gave him plenty of time to change his mind as you tugged them down, Vash letting out a quiet, hitched gasp when his cock sprung free.

Well, Vash certainly wasn't lying about it being different. Arching upwards from between his legs was what you could only describe as a tentacle, thick base sprouting from slick folds at the apex of his thighs. It curled upwards towards his belly and tapered slim at the tip, beading semi-translucent liquid that dribbled down the length of the shaft. It wasn't the same shade as his skin; It was closer to a bluish-white, marked up the length with abstract patterning similar to the glyphs on the outside bulb of a PLANT. Vaguely you wondered if it was always out like this, or if it settled itself snugly within those wet, petal pink folds when he wasn't aroused. You had to think it did, if Vash was as sensitive as he made himself out to be, otherwise he'd be on the verge of cumming with each step he took.

On second thought, that wasn't a bad image either.

Vash gulped, squirming a bit under your gaze, knees pulling together but unable to close fully with your body in the way. "So, uh, you're not screaming. I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a good sign!" You smoothed a hand up the length of his thigh, pausing right at the junction of his hip, and his cock twitched towards you subconsciously like a writhing tendril. He seemed to shrink in on himself a little at this, shoulders pulling up towards his ears as he anticipated your reaction.

"Vash, God Vash… Do you even have any idea how pretty you are?" He had to know, you couldn't let him wake up tomorrow and just bumble around for the rest of his life not knowing. He was ethereal, scarred skin painted in hues of blush pink, cheeks burning, eyes soft and wide… He had to be a PLANT, because it just wasn't feasible for a normal human to be this achingly beautiful. "You're so, so pretty Vash."

"Oh." His breathing shuddered, hips twitching when you squeezed down on the fat of his thigh.

"Sensitive, right? I'll be careful, just tell me if it's too much, okay?" Fingertips trailing off the junction of his hip, you finally, finally, closed your palm around his length. It was hot, slick to the touch everywhere you put your fingers on it, and you could swear for just a moment that those glyphs pulsed with a faint blue-white light as Vash whimpered. "This is okay?"

He nodded furiously, hands fisting the bed sheets as he all but gasped for air. "Good! It's good. I haven't, it's been a long time since I- ohhh please…" Another bead of thick, slippery pre-cum drooled from the tip, slicking your palm as you moved it so slowly up the length of his cock, squeezing slightly on the downstroke and making Vash's back go concave against the mattress as he moaned. Heat burned low in your core, and you wrestled a hand down the front of your pajama pants to stroke your own slick folds directly. You couldn't help but picture how the silky writhing of his cock would feel inside of your pussy, slick oozing around where your bodies would meet as it pushed upwards into your aching core…

"Me too…" Vash groaned, hand grabbing for the waistband of your pants as he struggled to sit up. "Lemme touch you too, please." You stumbled off the bed for only a moment, but it was still far enough to make Vash whine at your lack of contact. Slick from Vash's cock smeared across the fabric as you wrestled both the pants and your underwear onto the floor before crawling back into Vash's lap like you couldn't stand to be away from him for another moment. His hands found your hips the moment you were within reach, rubbing soothingly up and down the outer curve of your thighs as he stared down at you, eyes swirling with arousal and adoration.

"Beautiful." He murmured, pressing his lips once more against the curve of your neck. "Tell me what you like, tell me how I can make you feel good."

Hand around his wrist, you guided him to the dark patch of hair between your legs. His fingers crooked carefully, curiously, two fingertips swiping upwards through your wet folds and catching over your clit. He shuddered when you moaned, the very act of giving you pleasure seeming to do him the same. Finding your clit again, he rubbed over it with his fingertips in slow, almost soothing circles.

"That's good." You cooed, taking him in hand again. "You're so good for me, Vash, such a good boy."

"Yes!" He moaned, his metal hand coming around to grip your ass, urging you to roll your hips against his hand. "Yes, 'm good, I'm so good." Sharp teeth dragged over your collarbone, just hard enough to send a prickle of pleasure up your spine. As you began to rock your hips he pressed his hand further in, letting you grind your clit against the heel of his palm as he slid his middle finger into your entrance. The intrusion was slick, effortless, and you couldn't help but moan as he curled his finger against your soft, hot walls. You pumped him again, another thick glob of pre-cum dribbling over your fingers as his cock wriggled in your grasp. "You feel so good inside." He continued to babble, drooling against your neck as he whined and gasped. "Wanna… wanna feel you, so bad…"

"Yeah?" You purred, shifting your hips further up his. With how keyed up you were you doubted you'd even be able to last more than a thrust or two with Vash inside you, but still you wanted. Nudging his hand out from between your legs, you shifted your hips down to trap his cock in between your pussy and his tense stomach as you rolled your hips and let it slip messily back and forth between your folds. Vash positively howled, head tossed back against the pillows as his other hand came around to grip your ass as well.

"Yes! Yes, please, oh please wanna make you feel so good." Shifting your hips to align his tip with your entrance, he peppered wet kisses across your neck and up your cheek as you hovered over him. You tipped your head to catch his lips with your own, moaning into his eager mouth as you finally let him nudge into you. Euphoria crackled up your spine with each small movement, an almost unbearable heat between the two of you as he shifted you so gently down his slick cock. It was almost effortless the way he slid inside, your combined wetness leaving no room for pain around the incredible pleasure as he stuffed you full, coiling and massaging your walls as you finally found your thighs resting on his and your lungs gasping for air.

"Oh, oh Vash." He shuddered at the sound of your name leaving his lips, hips snapping forward and once again driving the breath out of you as white-hot pleasure exploded behind your eyelids.

"Sorry, 'm sorry, not gonna last. Gotta make you cum, fuck, please cum for me…" His chest pressed to yours and his face pressed into the curve of your jaw, his hips thrust forward again, and again, wriggling one hand in between your sweaty bodies to thumb eagerly at your clit, rolling the swollen bud beneath the pad. You wailed, pleasure prickling tears at the corners of your eyes as your stomach coiled tighter, pushed you higher.

A sharp blossom of pain erupted from the crook of your neck, making you cry out as Vash growled against your skin. His sharp canines dug into your sensitive flesh, bruising the soft skin there and blooming pain and pleasure into a swirling cocktail of overwhelming sensation. You dug your nails hard into the flesh of his back, shivering helplessly in his grip. The desert had been cruel, and crueler still had been its people, but you would make sure that any marks you left on Vash would be ones he wasn't ashamed to show, to feel.

"Love you." You sobbed, bleary-eyed and desperate for release, babbling similar nonsense to Vash as you tumbled into pleasure-drunk ecstasy. "Love you, I love you I love you Vash!"

He wailed, teeth pressing further into your soft neck, hips stuttering forward once, twice more before he finally shuddered, pouring his load into your awaiting core. Molten heat flooded your pussy, sending you tumbling into your own release. Rapture flooded your senses, writhing in Vash's hold as waves of pleasure overtook you, walls fluttering helplessly around his length again, and again, and again. He was spilling so much into you, you could feel it pooling out around where the two of you were joined, slicking his thighs and inevitably staining the sheets below. Even as your own orgasm began to subside, little aftershocks of pleasure sparking in your mind, he was still spilling more into your fluttering heat.

"I love you." He sobbed into your neck, drool and tears dampening your skin as he clutched you tight, so tight. "Love you so much." His tongue lathed over the bruise his teeth had left behind, a silent apology for daring to leave a single mark upon your body. With a final, shaky thrust of his hips, he seemed to spill the last of his cum into you, muscles relaxing with a stifled groan. You curled a hand in the hair at the base of his neck, pressing a kiss to his temple as he nuzzled into you. He whined as his cock seemed to slip from your heat of its own accord, another gush of hot slick spilling from your entrance as it went limp.

"I've got you, baby." You cooed. Slumping gently into his lap and ignoring the sticky-slick feeling cooling between your bodies, you let yourself melt fully into Vash's gentle hold.

"...They're probably gonna charge you extra for cleaning, you know?" He quipped, and you could feel him grimace a little at the tacky feeling between your thighs. "A lot extra."

"I'll take my chances."

He guffawed against your neck, dragging you down to the mattress with him in a sticky heap. You curled into the curve of his body, head resting on his shoulder. His arm immediately rose to curl around you, pulling you tight against his side.

"Mmh, we should probably clean up." You mumbled, eyelids already beginning to flutter.

"...Five minutes?" He rumbled, pressing his nose into the crook of your jaw.

"Mmm… Five minutes."

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #trigun #my writing #long post #alien biology vash

2K notes · View notes

mothwingwritings · 1 month

Text

Doppo, Shibukawa, Motobe, Biscuit, And Yujiro As Your Sugar Daddy 💄💋✨

Hi everyone!!! Sorry I dipped out for a moment, I had an eventful past two weeks (but some of the event has been writing stuff, so that’s something at least lul) and now I come back offering whatever the hell this is lol. The idea of the Baki men being sugar daddies came to me in a vision while I was supposed to be working, so of course as the responsible individual that I am I focused on that and started writing this and here we are now! :D It’s for all my dilf/gilf lovers out there. You are all lovely little treasures and I adore you all. :*

As you can probably tell by the subject matter of this one, 18+ only please!!!

Thank you for reading!!!

Warnings: Sex, sex work/reader is a sex worker, mentions of various sexual acts, possessive/obsessive tendencies from your clients, dubcon, mentions of noncon, Yujiro Hanma being Yujiro Hanma, mentions of threesomes and open relationships, very little editing.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗Doppo Orochi˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

· Doppo would be an exceptional sugar daddy. He’s attentive and kind to you, both when you are out on dates and when you share private time together, and you can always tell he’s truly excited to spend time with you (even when sex isn’t involved). He loves to spoil you and has the money to back it, gifting you whatever your heart desires, all you have to do is say the word.

· He’s a big family man, and as such he may push the boundaries a bit of what your relationship is. It’s hard to see him as just a benefactor when he’s sending you good morning and good night texts, inviting you over for home cooked dinners, calling you just so he can hear your voice and talk about silly things, checking in on you to make sure you are safe and happy. It may be pushing the line of what is appropriate and what isn’t for your relationship, but you can’t lie and say it isn’t nice feeling so cared for.

· That being said, you know Doppo has a wife that he loves very much, so there is no confusion of your role as just a sugar baby in this dynamic. In most cases such a strong spousal bond may cause trouble on your end, but luckily for you Natsue is as fond of you as Doppo is. She’s definitely not as into the sexual aspect of your company as Doppo is, but get ready for plenty of passionate threesomes should the three of you find yourselves together and in the mood.

· Doppo is very open about sharing his life with you. He invites you to all his matches, you have free access to Shinshin Kai dojo, and after a certain level of trust is reached, he’ll even give you a key to his house. At first it felt strange, like you were bordering on something taboo having so much access to his private life, and you worried you were taking advantage of his hospitality. But as time wore on you realized that his fondness for you was just so great that he wanted you to be a part of his life as much as possible, regardless of what the typical sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship was. However, if the familiarity and closeness ever made you uncomfortable he would end it immediately, reverting back to business as usual (though it would make him extremely sad).

· His main downside is that he’s definitely very ‘dad-like’ and sometimes you feel more like a child he is over protective of then his beloved sugar baby. His fatherly advice and guidance can be a bit overbearing, and it takes all you have not to roll your eyes at his griping over some of your decisions and future plans.

· If it doesn’t end up working out with Doppo, he has a hot son you can fall back on :)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗Gouki Shibukawa˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

· Shibukawa truly is a wild card. You have no idea what to expect when this man calls on your services. He’s hired you for things as mild as enjoying afternoon tea with him and as raunchy as participating in the most degenerate sexual roleplay you can possibly imagine (consensually, of course).

· So even though he’s one of your older benefactors, he is certainly far from boring. In fact, you can’t help but get excited whenever he reaches out to you, wondering what he may have in store for your meet up.

· Shibukawa is one of the less sentimental of the sugar daddies. There is definitely no mistaking that your relationship is strictly for pleasure, and as a side effect of that his private life is a virtual mystery to you. You have your suspicions about what he does with his spare time, but should you pry too much he’ll swiftly and efficiently end the conversation, focusing his attention instead on the sweeter side of your affair.

· However, he is far from cold. Shibukawa always treats you extremely well and pays you even better, so he quickly becomes one of your favorite clients.

· Also, he’s extremely interesting. This man could make a story about what he ate for breakfast sound like the most fascinating thing on the world, so even if nothing big or exciting happens in the time you spend with him, at the very least you know you won’t ever be bored.

· Don’t let his age fool you-he is a beast in bed. With age comes experience, and that has never been truer than with Shibukawa. You don’t think you’ve ever quite felt the thrill you get when you have intimate time with Shibukawa with any other client, let alone actual romantic partners you’ve had.

· His downside is that his mood towards you is always fluctuating. He will be in constant contact with you for weeks at a time and then fall off the face of the earth, only to pop back up expecting you to prioritize him over your other clients. It’s a bit obnoxious, especially if he is your best paying client and you are relying on him financially, yet he refuses to keep you in the loop of any plans he wants to involve you in or meet ups he may be concocting.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗Motobe Izou˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

· The KING of pet names. I honestly don’t think this man has ever called you your actual name once. Baby, sweetheart, dove, little one-the list goes on. If you called him a pet name back, he would probably have a heart attack brought on by the sheer amount of joy that would bring him.

· He may not be as wealthy as some of your other clients, but his care and devotion to you are off the charts. Each time he calls on your services he always greets you with flowers or chocolates, and each date he takes you on is to a place you like or recommend, prioritizing your favorites over the stuff he may prefer. He’s at your beck and call; willing to drop everything should your schedule open up and you have the time to spend with him.

· He’s very protective of you, having legitimate concerns over whether any of your other customers are overly handsy or make you do and participate in things you are uncomfortable with. He tries to play it cool and ask about your health and well-being nonchalantly, but you can tell by the nervous undertone in his voice and the bags under his eyes that his fretting over you and your profession wears heavily upon him, affecting his day to day life.

· He’s also low-key scared that you prefer other clients over him (even though you have never done anything to make him perpetuate this idea), so he stresses himself out over that as well.

· Motobe is an incredibly intimate lover. He takes his time with you, committing to memory which of his actions brings you the most pleasure so that he can use them time and time again to drive you wild. Every caress of his hand and kiss of his lips is gentle and loving, he treats you as if you are the most precious being on the planet earth and it never ceases to make you melt.

· That being said, he has the toughest time distinguishing boundaries in your relationship, constantly blurring the lines between professional and personal. Anyone that interacts with the two of you can see just how head over heels for you he is, and more often than not when out and about people just assume you are spouses based solely on how openly affectionate and lovey dovey he is with you. His doting can be rather heavy-handed, not to mention disconcerting, especially when you work so hard to establish clear boundaries with him.

· … But still, you can’t find yourself being too upset at Motobe. Even when he takes things too far, Motobe is certainly the most caring client you’ve had, earnestly watching over you and taking the best care of you he can with the limited time he has with you. Even with all his quirks, you have a definite soft spot for the man.

· And who knows? Maybe someday when you seek another line of work and leave this one behind you can go on an actual date with him? He’ll most certainly be waiting on you, more than ready to make it official. :)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗Biscuit Oliva˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

· If Biscuit is yoursugar daddy, my dear you have it MADE.

· He is the IDEAL sugar daddy. He’s handsome, sweet, wealthy, and not afraid to lavish you in all of the finer things. It’s not uncommon for you to go out on a date with him only to come home in a new designer outfit of your choice, decked out in a varying level of jewels he let you pick out yourself.

· And it’s not just material possessions, he loves taking you on all kind of exotic trips and vacations, taking you to places you never dreamed you’d be able to go. It makes his heart swell seeing the excitement in your eyes the moment the plane touches down at each new locale, your unbridled joy spurring him to feel just a thrilled by this adventure as you do (even if it’s to a place he has been countless times before).

· But even when he’s not whisking you off to fun and foreign places, he always makes every date exciting. Regardless of if it’s small meet up, or a full on whirlwind adventure, there is never a dull moment with Biscuit.

· Being with him is like an honest to god fairytale, you feel like some kind of royalty whenever you are in his presence. He dotes on you to the extreme, showering you in affection, praise, and gifts. You’ve never felt more beautiful or important than you do when you are with Biscuit.

· All that being said, this man really makes you earn the title of sugar baby. His sex drive is off the charts and he has an insatiable attraction to you, which means the moment he sees you, he’s on you. Of course he shows decorum out in public, presenting as the perfect gentleman on any dates he escorts you on while out in the public eye. But the moment you two are behind closed doors? Prepare to be absolutely ravished. You probably won’t be able to walk for a few days once he’s done.

· Like Doppo, you are aware that Biscuit already has a special lady in his life. As such, Biscuit made sure that you were someone that Maria was not just OK with, but someone she genuinely liked. You take that kind of as a badge of honor, as Maria has a tendency to be very picky with the people she surrounds herself with. But the two of you hit it off within minutes of meeting each other, which is a huge relief to both you and Biscuit.

· You’re not expected to participate in the ‘sugar’ end of the deal with Maria, but should you show interest in Maria in that way, Biscuit would be over the moon. Whether it be a threesome or just the two of you together while he watched, he’ll be absolutely delighted either way (and expect to be handsomely compensated for the good time. ;). Just don’t start liking each other more than him, OK? He would probably pass away from heart break if the two of you left him in the dust. ^^;

· The biggest down side to having Biscuit as your sugar daddy is that he can be a bit… much. He’s exceptionally clingy, to the point that you have to completely silence or shut off your phone sometimes because he’s always calling or texting you for some reason or another-even when you are with other clients. He also HEAPS on the affection so much that you feel suffocated by it, which is a lot on its own, let alone from a person you aren’t even in a committed relationship with. When you try and ask him to ease up, or even just straight up ignore him for a bit, it only makes his dogged affection worse. :/

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗Yujiro Hanma˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

· The fact that you even became the Ogre’s sugar baby is baffling, and honestly a rather scary and precarious situation for you to be stuck in.

· The thought that he would actually pay for something so many people would willingly supply to him, or that he could simply take from another person, must mean he finds you extremely interesting. Whether that’s a good or bad thing is to be determined.

· You don’t ever get a heads up for your liaisons with Yujiro-the man just shows up when he desires your company and that’s that. It doesn’t matter if you are sleeping, with another client, or otherwise engaged, Yujiro ALWAYS takes precedence and you better remember that if you want him to keep paying you.

· That being said, he gets rather territorial of you when he sees you or hears about you with other clients. Not necessarily jealous (what is there to be jealous of? He’s leagues better than those losers and everyone knows it), but definitely disgruntled that despite his patronage you still choose other men to attend to. You should feel honored to have him as a patron, indebted to the point where he is your soul focus. The fact that you aren’t definitely pushes his buttons.

· As stated, being Yujiro’s sugar baby is definitely a perilous situation to be in. He is interested in you enough to spend time and money on you, but you would never delude yourself into thinking he held any sort of romantic attraction towards you. You are merely a source of pleasure and entertainment, which in and of itself is fine, that is your profession after all. But once your use to him ended… where does that leave you? With all other clients they simply moved on, but Yujiro is like an untamed beast. If he gets upset with you in anyway, getting extremely hurt by him is a very real possibility.

· Also- he’s the strongest being on the planet. He could kill you without batting a lash, whether by accident or on purpose. Merely being in his presence is a daunting experience, and while you’ve dealt with strong and/or questionable clients in the past, Yujiro is a breed all his own. Simply put-he scares you, and he is by far the most dangerous person you’ve ever had to interact with.

· Everything about your relationship is filled with uncertainty. Sometimes your dates are good- he’ll take you out to nice places to do exciting things and may even get you a gift or two. But more often than not his ‘dates’ (if you can even call them that) are chaotic and abrupt, leaving you in pain and out of it for days.

· He’s EXTREMELY demeaning as well, calling you whore or slut more than your actual name. He especially likes to belittle you during sexual acts, reminding you of what a useless and weak piece of meat you are as he pounds into you mercilessly. The berating gets even worse when/if you start to feel pleasure from the acts. He enjoys it immensely when you put up a resistance to his advances, only to becoming a slavering mess, completely drunk off his cock.

· Receiving money from Yujiro is very dependent on his mood and how much fun he had while in your company. There are days when you leave your dates loaded with cash with very little effort, and times when you go above and beyond to please home only to receive a small amount of income. Honestly though, the days when you receive more cash can be worse than when he barely pays you-he is apt to lord it over you and expect more unsolicited favors from you in response to his act of benevolence.

· The worst part of this whole arrangement is that you don’t have a say in any of it. Any person in their right mind would reject Yujiro as a client no matter how attractive or wealthy he may be, but you were never given that luxury. The moment he took an interest in you, you became irrevocably tied to him with no hope of shaking him. You would be forced to serve him until he grows tired of you- you just hope that when his interest in you wanes it means your freedom and not your untimely demise. :)

#baki the grappler x reader #baki headcanons #baki x reader #baki the grappler headcanons #baki reader insert #baki the grappler reader insert #doppo orochi x reader #doppo orochi x y/n #gouki shibukawa x reader #gouki shibukawa x y/n #motobe izou x reader #motobe izou x y/n #biscuit oliva x reader #biscuit oliva x y/n #yujiro hanma x reader #yujiro hanma x y/n #honestly if any of these men wanted to be my sugar daddy (except Yujiro) hook me tf up #mothwingswritings #thank you so much for reading I hope u enjoyed!!!

234 notes · View notes

ladyempty · 17 days

Text

Yan! Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

° | !English is not my first language! |

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

For Rhaenyra, being attached to you since birth was normal. You were born together, with Rhaenyra clinging tightly to your heel with no intention of breaking free or parting.

It was just his birthright above any title or throne. It was the other half of her soul, a life that had blossomed with her in her mother's womb and was destined to stay that way.

Together. united for an eternity that would extend beyond life and death.

This was how things should be, and she cared little about the laws of men or the condemnation of the seven. Dragon blood flowed through his veins. Proof of your rights.

In the early years, the princess' behavior was not seen with suspicious or malicious looks, she was just a sister wanting her company. What was wrong?

Even though it raised eyebrows every time the young princess became excessively irritated when you mentioned other ladies or had the opportunity to discuss matters deeper with them. Why did you need others? Rhaenyra was there, blood of her blood, with an infinite desire to listen to you.

King Viserys reassured the worried with soft, relaxed smiles and negligent behavior. He was blind to the situation unfolding in front of him.

Rhaenyra has always been obstinate and somewhat petty, her worst personality traits always came to the surface when the subject was related to you. Has another lady looked at you excessively? Rhaenyra would spare no bitter words or the cruelest lies her mind could come up with.

The princess also had no qualms or shame about skipping boring classes with the Septas or taking you out of your classes with the Miestres just to fly with you through the skies with her dragons or steal lemon cakes from the kitchen.

But when you want to teach her something or read some old book that has suddenly become very interesting, she never protests.

Sharing your attention, even with your parents, is out of the question. She's the only person you need to worry about.

And don't doubt your ability to be manipulative or play mind games. She will definitely cry and pout if you try to reprimand her behavior in any way.

How could you do this to your younger sister? She just cares so much about you!

Her behavior only gets worse as she enters adolescence • The hormones and feelings that arise, controlling your thoughts and actions.

She will certainly overhear and have conversations about courtship and knights in shining armor with other court ladies. Even though Rhaenyra found them all boring and annoyingly silly, the conversations about the other boys were interesting. • Every time one of the girls told, between laughs, something new she had done with a gentleman, Rhaenyra couldn't stop letting her thoughts wander. • What if it was her and you? • If it were her and you secretly exchanging kisses in the empty, forgotten corners of the fortress? • The feeling of tingling and restlessness in the belly. A heat that quickly rose through your body until your cheeks were red. • She knew these thoughts were not correct or appropriate. She knew of the Septas' countless boring monologues about purity, women's duty, etc.

The kind of thing she had never paid attention to before. But she found herself being terrorized and reflecting more and more in recent days.

The thoughts that haunted his dreams at dusk became more constant. With only the moon as a witness to his restlessness and confusion. • She just knew she needed you. She needed something that even she didn't know what it was. But it was running through his veins on instinct. • The girl suddenly became more demanding with your attention focused solely on her. She felt bitter and betrayed by any mere exchange of glances between you and any other woman or man. Lady or not. Lord or servant.

The Gods granted her such beautiful eyes for the sole purpose of looking at her alone. • She felt possessive and angry. With a growing pain, deadly and bitter, as fierce as if you were hers and had been unfaithful.

And when she heard whispers about the possibility of a marriage being arranged for you, She knew she couldn't keep her feelings quiet any longer.

No. She wouldn't sit by and watch you belong to someone less deserving.

I couldn't bear to see your other half give himself to someone other than her.

You were born to burn with her. And it was time for others to know this.

#Rhaenyra targaryen #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere house of the dragon #yandere x reader #rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon x Reader

136 notes · View notes

it-happened-one-fic · 10 months

Text

Thats How You Know - Leona

Author Notes: This fic is actually for the @briarvalleyarchives "Anthems of Old" event. It was inspired by its namesake song, "That's How You Know" from the Disney film Enchanted. It's surprisingly nerve-wracking to be posting a fic for an event, but I had fun writing thing and had to curb the urge to not just rip of the scene from the film. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy.

Type: Fluff/ romantic/ gender-neutral reader/ sfw

Word Count: 1782

“You know he likes you, right?” Ruggie had leaned over to look you in the eye better as he voiced his question, but you looked away as soon as his words registered.

His question drew a sigh from your lips that didn’t quite match the odd smile on your face as you kept your silence. You weren’t quite able to answer his question, even as Ruggie frowned at your silence.

The truth was that, in a lot of ways, you felt like Leona did like you just as much as you liked him. But he never really did anything to show it if he did, which left you with questions.

How could you really know if he did like, much less love, you?

Despite what others said, you weren’t certain. You knew you liked him. After all, you’d taken to picking up on his interests, worries, and other such little tidbits that made up the individual that was Leona. They’d affected you, becoming interests and worries of your own.

What had started out as curiosity and wanting to get to know him better had swelled from there. You’d fallen in love with Leona. And while you knew that Leona didn’t hate you, the matter of romantic interest was….. Well, it was a whole other can of worms that you weren’t nearly as confident about.

Or at least you weren’t until recently.

It had started out simply enough, with a small note being left on your desk on top of a stack of books. The note itself was pinned in an elegant but largely unfamiliar hand and mentioned the upcoming practical magic test.

Something you knew you were going to flunk, what with your lack of ability to practice magic.

But after just a little bit of studying, it became clear that maybe you had a better chance of passing than you had thought.

The books in the mysterious stack handled the subject well, showing intensive instructions for how to draw an appropriate magic circle that would help you pass the test without having to actually use magic.

That wasn’t what really caught your attention, though. What caught your attention was the signature on the reverse side of the note, which you hadn’t found until you’d given it a closer inspection.

Elegant and small-lettered, the signature was barely noticeable but easily capable of causing a smile to appear on your face.

Leona Kingscholar.

You’d known he’d helped Ruggie get caught up with the rest of the school in terms of tutoring and having uniforms when he’d first come to NRC, but you’d never expected him to help you.

Perhaps he did care a bit more for your concerns and troubles than you’d thought….

You’d thanked the Savannaclaw housewarden after you’d passed the test, but he’d brushed off your gratitude with an almost trained ease.

“You help Jack out with his work, so if I give you stuff, I don’t have to tutor him myself,” A lazy smirk had spread across his features. He’d looked over his shoulder at you as he’d walked off, throwing a final comment back at you, “Less work for me that way.”

His words had caused you to frown slightly, but you shrugged them off. He wasn’t wrong after all. You and the other first-years often studied together to help each other with your problem subjects. If you could teach Jack things, then Leona wouldn't have to worry about it. Though you were pretty sure he’d never bothered with that in the past either.

But what followed the next day had you forgetting your previously dismissive thoughts.

You and Grim both stared down at the bright yellow flowers that greeted you from your doorstep. At odds with the otherwise dreary day, they smiled brightly up at you from the discolored wood of your porch. They were one of your favorite flowers from the ones you’d seen since coming to this world, simply due to how happy they looked.

You frowned at the blooms even as you knelt to collect them. They were tied with a rough cord, an oddly rugged touch to such a sweet sentiment.

You fingered the cord slightly before taking them inside to plop in a glass of water before heading off to the botanical garden for Potionology class.

Except when you at last reached the botanical garden, you froze. Staring at the familiar yellow flowers that greeted you, yet again, with smiling faces from alongside jaggedly cut stems that had no doubt been where your little bouquet had once resided.

It could have been a coincidence that Leona spent large amounts of time in the botanical garden where these pretty little flowers, that perfectly matched the color of yellow he wore on his dorm uniform, grew.

It was a color that was slowly becoming one of your favorites as the days wore on and was possibly one of the reasons you did like these flowers so much

Either way, the oddness of it all was enough to make you wonder and smile to yourself at the possibilities.

You were still smiling as you were chopping the potion ingredients and you almost missed the grin Ace was wearing when he leaned over closer, “So, anything interesting today?”

You frowned, immediately suspicious since you knew good and well that Ace didn’t bring those flowers when he’d just claimed they aggravated his allergies mere seconds ago.

His question, though, was incredibly fishy considering that getting a bouquet of flowers from an unknown sender was definitely an interesting start to your day.

“I got some flowers this morning…. Some of those yellow ones you said you were allergic to,” You eyed him skeptically, but he merely snorted.

“Ooh, got an admirer, have we, Prefect?” He bounced his eyebrows at you before laughing at your eye roll and continuing on.

“My day had a weird start too. First thing this morning, Deuce informed me that Jack apparently overheard Ruggie telling Leona that you couldn’t read minds.”

The redhead’s grin was sly now as he shouldered you playfully, “Weird, huh? Would’ve thought everyone knew that. After all, if you could read minds, you wouldn’t have needed those books to help you with the practical magic test, right?”

You blinked in surprise at the redhead, ignoring the teasing tone he used in favor of thinking about this new information.

The rest of class went by in a blur until Ruggie came trotting over, an exasperated expression on his face, “Y/n, hun, help a guy out?”

You sighed almost immediately at his wheedling tone but found yourself turning to face him anyway, “What is it, Ruggie?”

You were fully prepared for some sort of grand tale about how he had too many jobs and needed help running something to a class or that he’d found some sort of new couple deal and wanted to go on a fake date in the name of sales.

But it was none of those things. Instead, you were met with a sandwich being shoved into your hands, “Give this to Leona for me. I haven’t got the time, and he’s miffed with me anyway. You’re a real pal, bye!”

He was skittering away, waving with his signature snicker, before you even had a chance to object. You glanced Ace’s way only to be met with a rapid head shake, “Oh no, he gave that to you. You’re on your own, Prefect.”

The redhead backed away like you were carrying a bomb and quickly abandoned you to your newfound work. You rolled your eyes at both of the men’s dramatics but turned on your heel, striding towards where Leona always napped with a sandwich in hand. You had some questions you wanted to ask him anyway.

You stepped into the clearing to see him sitting there with some food already in front of him, causing you to frown at the sandwich in your hand.

He looked up at you with his tail flicking in an oddly energetic fashion behind him. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest bit. In fact, he almost seemed amused by your confusion.

“About time you got here. I’d almost begun to suspect that Ruggie had somehow missed you,” His words were delivered with the customary smirk, and all of the various pieces snapped into place.

“So, the flowers were from you?” You grinned slightly as you sat down across from him and started unwrapping the sandwich in your hand, only to find that, rather than his preferred variety, it was your favorite kind of the sandwiches offered by the cafeteria’s deli. A rare luxury that you couldn’t usually afford.

Leona looked down at the food in front of him and, instead of answering your question, posed one of his own, “So, have you got an answer for Ruggie’s question yet?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his nonchalant question, and your mind went racing back to just a couple of days ago, when Ruggie had been questioning if you knew how Leona felt about you. “You heard him?”

Leona grinned outright at your shock, “Oh yeah, I heard the whole conversation.” He looked up at you, ears twitching almost pointedly as he leaned back. Totally relaxed despite your own embarrassment.

“You ought to pay better attention to your surroundings. Herbivores like you have to be careful if you don’t want someone catching you off guard.”

He was so smug, but you found yourself recovering from being flustered as a thought registered, “But that’s how you came to know how I felt. Right?”

He snorted before leaning forward, entering your personal space with a single easy motion that had your previous confidence failing you, “I already knew. You’d already proved that plenty of times.”

Mercifully, he leaned back, “So, have you got your answer?”

You found yourself smiling slightly at his question this time despite how pleased he seemed with himself.

Because of course you had your answer. After he’d done so much to prove that he did care and that he paid special attention to you, how could you not?

He’d known that you’d needed help on a test, that you liked those flowers in that specific color, and that you liked this sandwich. They were all little things, but those little things made up who you were. And he’d taken the time to do all of those things just to show you that he did care and did like you because he’d overheard Ruggie’s question and correctly interpreted your own concerns even though you hadn’t voiced them.

Paying attention to little things like that and taking the time to reassure you…. That's how you know that someone loves you.

513 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 1 year

Text

Reaper 6

Reaper is a dark story with dark and mature subject matter. 18+ NSFW

Hello welcome back to the world of Reaper and Bunny, this is another light hearted chapter... the next one will satisfy what this one doesn't ;)

Check out our Patreon for exclusive writing and early access!

wc: 9.1k

warnings: cute couple behavior, changing room shenanigans, daddy kink?, we are giving you guys blue balls in this

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

Harry hadn’t woken up happy like this in a long, long time.

A face full of hair and sweet smelling skin mixed with the scent of sex lingering in the room had always been something he avoided. Women weren’t allowed her and he never spent the night, not wanting any semblance of a connection past orgasms to be misconstrued.

This, though? This was a dream.

Sweet Bunny curled up with him, his arms firmly wrapped around her body and one hand, appropriate to his character, holding a breast. Her warm skin touched every inch of his. The best part had to be the fact he was still tucked up inside of her.

He had made sure to get them clean the night before, but she had woken him up with a soft little whine and whisper of ‘feels empty’ and that was all it took for him to guide himself back inside of the warm walls.

Waking up inside of her was fucking incredible. He felt warm and her cunt was snug and soft, making him exhale sharply as she moved in her sleep.

His hands pulled her in further, dislodging for a moment to brush the hair from her face, adjusting it so his lips could press against her neck. Stubble brushing the skin, his warm lips pressed a few kisses.

He could feel her breathing change slightly and smiled against her, his raspy morning voice breaking the morning silence.

“Mornin’ Bun.”

As Bunny slowly came to, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of warmth and fullness that she had only ever dreamed of. If it wasn’t for his grip on her, she wouldn’t have noticed. A smile spread across her sleepy and blissful face, squeezing herself around him out of instinct.

“Good morning…” She didn’t even attempt to hold back the moan before speaking, instead leaning into the sound. He felt so good completely wrapped around her. Y/N felt her heartbeat start to pick up as he breathed against her neck, already getting sucked right back into the feelings of last night.

She simply couldn’t get enough of him, but it seemed he was in the same boat.

“Oh bunny, what am I going to do about you?” He murmured, pressing kisses up to her ear. “Didn’t get enough? Is that it? You’re already ready to go?” He asked, surprisingly gently but she could tell he was just as eager but rather holding himself back.

“I don’t want you to stop.” Her weak morning voice whispered to him, clenching around him again and making him groan against her ear. He felt the chills on her skin, pressing herself back, not wanting to stop.

“Y’sure? You’re not sore?” He murmured, shallowly thrusting. He hadn’t had sex like that before, usually preferring to pin them down or have them ride him- but there was an intimacy to this. Cuddled up under the fresh blankets, her quiet breathing getting heavier.

“A little. But I like you inside me. Like when it hurts.” She grabbed his hand and held it to her stomach, arching slightly to let him get the picture.

“My god… what have I done to deserve a filthy, delicious little treat like you?” Harry asked, turning her head slightly so he could kiss her lips, sinking back all the way inside. Lazy morning sex had never been a priority, never even really a want. That required staying the night and he never liked anyone enough for that. Instead, this was probably one of his new favorite things.

He felt his hips push a little harder against her, each thrust pushing her body harder against his hand. He loved it. How easily he could move her around and how responsive she was to his touch.

“Have you really been thinking about me all these years?” He asked, recalling the one thing that had been on his mind since the words left her lips. It was a primal desire, he wanted to hear her say it again. “Did I meet your expectations?”

He was practically purring, hips moving at a slow yet passionate pace. He felt like he couldn’t be deep enough inside her, wanting to savor every second.

“More than.” She clutched his hand again, shivering when she felt his lips purring against her. It felt so good. Each movement of him against her had her body lighting up, addicted to the feeling of his personal brand of pleasure. It never felt like this with anyone else.

“All the years… I begged for you in my head. wanted you… to see me.” She spoke between his thrusts, admitting the truth freely to him.

It fueled him. Knowing he had been the main target all along. She had wanted him from day one and that did something for his soul. He knew he may not be able to keep her forever-

But he would treasure and cherish every single second he could now.

“Did you dream of this?” He slid his hand up her body, gently collaring her throat with his hand. “Dream of me waking you up like this? What did you dream of, my sweet girl?” He coaxed answers from her, cherishing every single drag of his cock inside of her. It was a privilege to get this again.

He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her as long as she allowed him.

She took in a deep breath, body shaking with pleasure each time he smoothed over the most sensitive parts of her skin. It was as if he knew just where to touch her, his hands tending to every part of her silky skin.

“Mmm…” Bunny hummed, feeling the vibration travel to his hand through her throat. “Yeah— just like that,” A pleased sigh escaped her, “Thought about you eating me out on the counter.” It was always a fantasy of hers even at her mom’s house. When Sterling was upstairs and Harry came down to grab a snack.

“In the shower too.” The feeling of her hot body pressed against the cool tiles, nipples grazing over the glass. “But this.. mostly this…” Bunny had always pictured the two of them having lazy yet passionate sex. Harry was raw, in ways many guys weren’t. He didn’t care about superficial things as much, he didn’t live a life where such things matter.

When it came to sex, it was one of the only ways he was able to communicate his love. If he’d ever felt love, to begin with.

“Good.” He brushed his lips over her skin, his thrusts lazily drinking up every bit of the sensation. Feeling her against his body, being inside of her, all of it felt unreal. He was going to soak up as much as possible, as much as she would allow.

He wouldn’t have touched her then simply on the principle that it was his best mate’s sister- but it didn’t mean he didn’t think about it as she grew into herself. He had always been fond of her but he resented himself when his attraction had grown.

Little did he know, she had been pining back even harder.

“I’ll give it to you whenever you want, Angel. As long as you keep being my good fucking girl, I’ll give you every bit of cock you want. And my mouth.” And this affection. He didn’t want to admit that quite yet- but he knew he had been good at taking what he could get.

A girl like Y/N could do plenty better than Harry, and she probably would want to leave one day- but Harry would take every little bit of her he could while she was in his possession. Especially since she so freely gave it.

“Can feel you… you’re so close. Are you going to cum on my cock again?”

“Yeah—“ She was breathing deeply, a true test of how relaxed she was, the fact that he could bring her to her climax so quickly. It sent another wave of pleasure over her body. It felt electric, the waves crashing over her with each push of his hips and gentle kisses along her shoulders.

“you make me feel so good…” Her words were accented by the smile tugging at her lips, sighs of relief filling the room along with more giggles. His stubble was tickling her neck, but the feeling of being warm and full of him was distracting.

The kisses didn’t stop even when she turned her body slightly to face him. Bunny used a free hand to guide his lips to hers, sighing blissfully into his mouth at the relief.

Gently massaging his head, her lips took control of the kiss. It wasn’t that he was giving any resistance, more than happy to follow her lead. Her kiss was sweet as if she hadn’t seen him for ages, even more, eager than after classes. Those kisses became so familiar, he was starting to think this was just how she kissed him. His lover girl.

He was gentle with her.

She was aware that with most of humanity, that was the opposite. He was hard and mean and he wasn’t someone you’d call a good person- but it was hard to remember that with his calloused fingers stroking her hot cheek, leaning into a place that neither of them had been in before.

Gentleness wasn’t a descriptor nearly anyone else could use for their interactions with him but Bunny absolutely could. He was rough with her during sex, sure, but outside of that? He treated her in the most tender way she could have ever expected. He was mindful of his strength, making sure she was safe and he didn’t hurt her- because if he did? He’d probably drive off a cliff or something.

He watched her eyes lazily open as they pulled back, swollen mouth curling into a sleepy smile before she pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

“What’s got you smiling like that?”

“Shhhhh..” She was far too shy despite the position they were in. “You know what.” Her words came out in a small whisper. There were far too many things to list. She felt safe and relaxed, comfortable in his arms, she felt well rested and brand new thanks to a night and morning full of sex. Why wouldn’t she be smiling?

“You look really sexy when you’re relaxed you know…” She decided she could trust her voice again, gently nipping at the crease between his shoulder and neck. “Kinda look hot when you’re mad too… sometimes.” Y/N thought she had gotten away with saying it quietly but it seemed he heard it clear as day.

It piqued his interest, his grasp on her hips tightened. Of course, the little angel liked a bit of danger.

“Too curious for your own good, bunny…”

His personal goal was to try and avoid having her see him in the way that earned him his nickname. He didn’t want to risk her freaking out and leaving or changing her mind about him- or even worse, feeling unsafe. He would never hurt her in a million years, never in his life. He adored her- even if he couldn’t say it out loud yet.

“Just honest.” She smiled, pecking his lips. “I think you’ve created a monster out of me. With the sex.” Her body curled into him, raising a hand and pushing some slightly sweaty hair from his face, letting herself observe him.

As beautiful as he was, he still looked dangerous. The slight scar over his eyebrow, the slight glint in his eyes, the stubble, all of it called to a part of her that should probably tell her to stay away- but instead, it made her want to run to him.

“Yeah? That’s not a problem. I’ve been described as a monster to some so… I think I can handle a horny one.”

“Do you?” She asked mischievously. “We’ll see about that.” It was just teasing, but then again that was something she was very good at. Bunny remembered how easily he cracked before, now it would only be harder for him to deny her. “I’m very needy.”

Pecking his lips once more she slowly attempted to pull away from him so she could escape to the bathroom. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she swore she would burst if sh—

“Harry!” She squealed, feeling him yank her arm back into bed. His body caged over top of hers pretty quickly. “Did I say you could go anywhere?” He purred against her, nose brushing up the side of her cheek.

“Please Harry, I gotta go pee.” Bunny pleaded and he could only chuckle. He’s had worse happen in this bed.

“You do?” He grinned, pulling back to look at her. “Shame. I don’t feel like letting you up yet.”

“Harry. Please?” She pouted, squirming underneath him. It had aroused her to be manhandled like that, to be trapped underneath him. It didn’t help that he began to mouth at her neck.

“Okay. Let me finish this.. and then I’ll let you up.” He had seen a lack of good marks on her neck. There were plenty on her breasts- but the one he had given her yesterday on her neck hadn’t developed the way he wanted. His lips attached to a piece of skin, kissing it slightly before increasing the pressure of his sucking. Hickeys hurt, but he knew his Bunny liked a lick of pain. Especially if it pleases him.

She was squirming beneath him, a different heat rising to her cheeks as she tried her best not to tense up too much from the feeling. It was a good kind of pain, the type that felt like sparks in her stomach.

Small whines let him know it was time to let go, but he certainly wasn’t ready just yet. He wanted to hear a few more mewls, to hear her beg once more. His sweet bunny, all his.

“Harry.” She breathed out through her nose, his grip on her wrists loosened, his lips still lingering over her body as he allowed her to move up and out of bed. He didn’t let go till his fingertips touched hers, watching her shuffle into the ensuite.

What was going on? What had even happened? Harry felt like he’d been in a bubble for the past 24 hours. Distracted. What time was it?

Harry wasn’t sure why it had snapped when it had, but he knew it was going to be impossible to go back to the way it was before. He wouldn’t be able to resist her anymore. Of course, the man had done his best to hold out, to keep himself calm and remember that she was indeed his best mate's sister… but he was also a selfish being. He wanted her, he wanted to know her taste and her smell and wanted to indulge in the fantasy of having her truly be his. So… he couldn’t really deny it anymore.

He did feel a bit of guilt that he would worry about later. This lifestyle and even him, they weren’t good enough for her. She deserved a hell of a lot more, a lot less looking over one's shoulders. She should have a nice guy outside of this town with a picket fence and some Goldendoodles and kids. That wasn’t what she would get with him.

Sure, she would get fierce loyalty and hot sex and devotion. But how much could that feed her?

Surprisingly? A lot.

Y/N sat with her feet flat against the floor, playing with her hands with a small smile on her face. It’s like she couldn’t wipe it off. She’d never been so happy, so carefree. Bunny truly had forgotten the things she feared beyond these four walls.

Harry had a way of making her feel seen, even in the moments when he was emotionally stunted. He was able to read her fluently, enough to know what was wrong and enough to desire to solve it. It seemed the best solution for relaxing was his tongue.

Y/N made her way back to the bedroom, feeling refreshed. Seeing him back to business mode on his phone, she wished she could snatch it out of his hand sometimes.

Harry had picked up his phone to go through messages he had gotten the night before. He’d been too busy balls deep inside of Bunny and he wasn’t letting anyone interrupt that, but now that they’d gotten a few rounds in he was able to concentrate.

A little bit.

He sat on the edge of the bed and felt her body weight dip the bed. His expectation was for her to cuddle back under the covers, but instead was met with arms wrapping should his body and a chin on his shoulder, plushy lips pressing into his cheek as she sighed. The casual affection was unexpected, something he was very unused to… but not unwelcoming.

“Why are you working already.” Her tone was slightly whiny, which oddly did something to his cock. He’s never liked whining before but perhaps it was just… from her.

“I’ve got to catch up on things from last night.” He murmured, typing back a reply to one of the messages. “If we’re spending today at home… I need to at least reschedule some shit.”

“Okay,” She relaxed against his back, letting her head rest against him the way she wanted. Cheek against his shoulder blade, closing her eyes again only to focus in on the sound of his heart and his breathing.

Y/N took her sweet time, gently tracing shapes over his chest and stomach with her finger. She just wanted to touch him, let him know she was there and present and waiting for his attention.

It meant a lot to her that he was taking the time out for her, but she had a feeling that last night convinced him to go against his doubts. He should stay with her. To keep her safe. It was selfish, but he couldn’t leave her on her own. He was the only one she could trust now.

Has she not known him for years, it would have been far more worrying that she was clinging to him like this. He couldn’t say he hated it. He’d never had a girl feel comfortable enough to touch him so freely and gently. He didn’t realize touch could feel this way. His heart sped up, clearing his throat before using a free hand to hold her hand against his stomach instead.

He didn’t usually like casual or affectionate touches. It was too familiar. People tried to figure him out, his ‘story’ so to speak, thinking there was a mystery behind him. And- there was. But it wasn’t for anyone faint of heart or anyone who sought out the story anyways.

That being said, Bunny had always been an exception to his rule. Only girl he let ride his bike, the only girl to stay the night in his bed, the only girl he gave hickeys to, the only girl he actually gave a shit about.

He was on his phone for a good 20 minutes, feeling her start to get a bit antsy as he felt kisses travel over his shoulders and back. He shivered slightly without being able to stop himself when she had gotten to his neck, still on the phone when she placed the side opposite to the phone full of little pecks. It wasn’t even necessarily sexual- but a touch of appreciation that made him a little confused. Why did it affect him so much?

“Okay. That was the last one.” He told her, turning his head to try and get a glimpse of her.

She didn’t even try to hide the excitement in her eyes, not having any plans for the day meant more quality time with him. Bunny woke up this morning with a mission to make him feel something different.

When he first told her she was the first girl he’d done all this with, she wasn’t surprised. However, it did make her heart hurt. He’s never known softness, but even self-proclaimed monsters need a place where they can just be.

“Yeah? You still have things to do today though, right?” She wanted to make sure he knew she would give him space if it all became too much. “Don’t have to do it now though… if you don’t want to.” Bunny leaned forward again and pressed a kiss to his chin.

He looked confused for a moment as if he expected her to kiss his lips but he wasn’t disappointed. A kiss followed shortly after. She couldn’t help it. He just looked like he needed it.

“I was thinking we could go shopping. We need some more groceries… can go into the city for a bit, first. I need to get some new jeans. Sound like something you’d want to do?”

He wasn’t sure what to do. If he should even attempt being romantic with her or what the deal was. It was something of uncharted territory… but he also liked the idea of people seeing them together.

“M’sorry I’m not letting you go back to school yet. I just…” he licked his suddenly dry lip, looking at her wide eyes. “I don’t want you around that area yet. I got a text from Wiz- he’s going tonight and sneaking into the lot to install a discreet camera facing your parking spot.” Thank god they had designated spots. “So maybe we can catch him if he tries this shit again.” He didn’t want to remind her of the situation but he also wanted her to be aware he was taking extra precautions for her. Was trying to make sure she was aware he was going to do any and everything he could to make her safe.

“Shopping? Say no more.” Bunny scrunched her nose and gave him a cheeky smile. He did mention the jeans thing a while back, they were far too busy before but now that things are tense but settled? Why not. No one could harm her if he was with her. Knowing Reaper, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

“I wanna see you in one of those button ups… the sheer ones or the silky ones.” She hummed at the thought, “Think you’d look really good. Like… really really good.” Bunny could already see the fabric clinging to his body. It would hang off his shoulders just right. Show off his back…

“But cuddle first.” Y/N pulled him backwards into bed, giggling as his weight crushed her in just the right way. “Before we get up to eat, don’t wanna get up yet..” code for, I don’t want the moment to end.

She swore she’d stay in bed with him all day if he let her.

“Well… I don’t think I can say no to putting one in when you seem to get horny just thinking about them.” He laughed, letting her pull his body down onto the bed into her lap. Harry melted into her, letting out a sigh as she looked down at him spiderman style. He could see how long her eyelashes were and slightly up her nose, but he just shook his head. The comfort was something he would happily do as long as she would let her.

—-

“Bunny….” Harry gave her a look as she piled her arms with clothing for him to try on. She had brought him to a boutique she knew that sold men’s clothing, and was using him as her personal Barbie doll.

Harry stuck out like a sore thumb. A lot of this stuff was for hipsters, really, and Harry looked like a guard dog, a scowl on his face as he looked at anyone who passed them. He had let her walk around the store, following behind her quietly until he realized what exactly she was doing.

“Please?” She hit him with a pout. A pout that made him inhale deeply, looking at the stack of clothing in her hands. She had been through some shit and the giddiness on her face at the prospect of him trying some things on would be a little price to pay to try and make up for the lack of empathy he’s given her.

“Fine. But you need to come in the dressing room with me. You aren’t out of my sight.”

“I’d never say no to that.” She smirked, “but no funny business, okay Harry?” Bunny teased knowing damn well she was the one who needed the warning. It would be hard not to touch on him especially when he’d be trying on the most attractive pieces.

Harry wasn’t one to wear colors, so she chose mostly black shirts and jeans. Except for this one red shirt that was screaming for him to try on. It was a thin material, just showed enough to make her want to rip it off of him. That’s what she thought at least, she wanted to see it on him.

“Promise you can pick something for me later and I’ll try it on for you too.” Y/N had an idea of a few things he could like. For his eyes only of course.

After Bunny was finished scanning the shop, she led him to the dressing rooms deciding to pick the one at the very back. It was bigger than the others, more private.

Harry raised a brow at the promise. One that he was 100% going to make her fulfill. He was a man of his word, after all.

It was amusing seeing her think through which shirts or pants she wanted him to try on. It was also evident that she was very much aware there wasn’t much of a problem with money, choosing some pieces that had Harry’s eyes widening a bit. He never spent a lot on clothes, really, besides if he was going to go somewhere for the club that needed it. His jeans usually came from thrift stores or whatever shop was closest. This was a new thing for him. Shopping was in and out for him- but he had to remember the times he and Sterling had to accompany her and her friends to the malls outside their territory. Hours upon hours.

“Okay…” he cleared his throat, leaning against the closed door of the fitting room while she placed the items on the rack. “What am I doing here? What do I try first?”

“Let’s do the jeans first to get them out of the way. I think you’ll know if you like them or not.” Y/N handed him the few folded pairs of black jeans. They were pretty simple, but good quality. They wouldn’t tear as easily but would still hold up nicely even with biking.

“Can take your shirt off if you want, gonna have you truly the shirts on with one of the pairs of jeans on.” Bunny wanted him to see her vision fully. The new jeans would help determine which shirts would stay.

“Obviously if you don’t like anything or don’t feel good in them, then don’t just agree 'cause I picked them… want you to like them too.” She cooed and turned back around to take a good look at him.

“Well.. I do trust your taste considering I know fuck all about fashion.” He laughed under his breath. His jeans were stripped down and tossed off to the side where Bunny sat and his shirt followed.

While essentially naked, he moved, grabbing a pair of jeans and slipping them on. She had taken a few pairs of pants and somehow found differences between them all. Harry didn’t know what it was besides maybe the fit? But these already fit nicely. If he was alone he would simply grab these and go.

However… he could feel her eyes on him. His back was to her as he looked in the mirror and he was positive she could see the scratch marks she had left up the planes of his back. She was a wildcat and had definitely marked her territory, something he would wear with pride. She matched with her love bites, but he knew just from his shower earlier that she did a number on him.

“How’re these?”

“Huh?” Y/N pulled herself from her thoughts at the sound of his voice, “Turn around.” She spoke when she processed what he’d said. Taking a step forward, she gave him a look up and down. They fit really well.

“Bum looks good,” Bunny smirked, smacking it lightly just to get a rise out of him. She liked pushing his buttons but he was patient with her. “Do you like them?” It didn’t matter how many times he said he didn’t care she wanted to make sure he picked ones he liked.

Her hands moved to his belt loops, pulling herself closer for a moment to give him time to answer. And to steal a quick kiss of course.

He gave her an unamused look at the smack to the ass but it was quickly wiped away when she kissed him. It was the casual kisses that kind of knocked him off his feet in a way. It was flattering to think she was comfortable enough with him to do that.

“I do. But we’re never going to get out of this room if y’keep kissing on me.” His own hand strayed down to get a handful of his own, dipping under her skirt and squeezing the soft flesh covered by her panties. Shame.

“Sorry, Daddy.” She purred up at him, making his jaw clench. Like she said- pushing his buttons, making him tick, being a bit of a brat was fun for her.

She hadn’t expected his hand to grab jaw and move her back slightly with a warning look on his face- but it aroused her further. This mostly unexplored part of him made her melt, eyes widening up at his dark ones.

“I said to watch yourself, little girl.” He spoke quietly. “Don’t get me worked up one pair of pants in.” A tiny peck was placed on her lips paired with a tiny squeeze to her jaw before he released her, turning around to take them off.

“I’ll get these. Which should I try next?”

“Any.” She spoke, rather winded. Y/N had been hot since this morning, still not adjusted to the new stage in their relationship. Bunny wanted to be touching him all the time. He always had the ability to take her breath away. He knew just how much pressure to apply and when to apply it. Touchy. It made her skin buzz. She licked over her lip and handed him the next pair of jeans, smiling smugly to herself.

He had unlocked the one part she’d been holding back. He gave her the go-ahead, the freedom to do as she pleased. It was giving her enough satisfaction seeing him react so strongly to her. To see he’d been holding back as well.

They zoomed past the next pair, Harry agreed that they fit well. Even said he preferred those which shocked her. She had managed to sway him. He did care deep down. Y/N was getting impatient though, wanting to see all the button-ups.

“Okay… pick which one you want to try first. Do your thing.” She decided she would have a seat for this one, leaning back against the wall of the dressing room.

Harry let his eyes run over the tops she had chosen. They were definitely a bit out there, sure, but she knew his go to’s so it wasn’t like it was something completely unwearable.

Except one.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got t’be joking with this one.” He snorted, looking at the one with… chicks? Printed on it. It was ugly. Point blank period, no other way around it. It was probably a gag but he still didn’t know what she was thinking even bringing it in here.

“I’d burn that one. But…” his eyes took in a silky black one, humming as he observed the embossed pattern on it.

“This one is nice.” It had a snake print around it, only visible when the light caught it. “This is more like it. Not cartoon chicks.”

He tugged it on his body, straightening up as the fabric fell against his body. “Hm…” he liked it. He was partial to silk and satin when he went out, even just to the bar if he felt like looking good in order to pull- but this was different. It felt different because Bunny was the one who chose it.

Bunny scrunched her nose at him, nodding along with the idea of burning the shirt. It was a gag, but she wanted to see what he would say.

“Really? I think you’d make it look good.” She smacked the gum in her mouth, watching as he fell in love with the black shirt. Bunny knew he’d be drawn to it, it screamed his name. It was practically begging for her to pick it up the second she walked into the boutique. It was his already.

“Yeah?” Y/N raised her brow, “Sex on legs in that.” There was no other way to describe it. Anyone would see him in that shirt and immediately want to rip it off of him. “Definitely getting this one.”

“How about the red one?”

“Sex on legs?” He chuffed. “I’d say so. But I’m glad y’think so too.” He decided on that once, scoffing at the price tag but placing it back on the hanger. He never splurged but it was obviously making her happy to watch him try things on.

His hands reached for the red one. It was sheer and soft and had lining on the cuffs and collar with some velvet, the rest left on its own. Truthfully he felt like he wasn’t even wearing much, the soft material lightweight against his skin. Cool to the touch.

It was hot.

Y/N watched with her lip bitten between her teeth as he took his hair down from the bun it was in, shaking out his hair as he tried to get the vision. He was so attractive it was almost criminal. The only reason it wasn’t was because she was the one that got him.

“I like this one too. It’s hot.” He mumbled. “Can see all my tattoos though. Dunno if a jealous thing like you can handle that.”

“Mmm well it’s for my eyes, isn’t it? if I can dress slutty then so can you.” She said with a shrug, knowing damn well she would be eating her words next time they were out. The moment she’d see a girl looking at him for too long she’d make her wish she hadn’t. Not that they could really truly go out without being on edge.

“I like that you know you’re good looking.” Bunny hummed, “But I don’t like to share either. So I think it works out for the both of us, hmm?” The two of them really were a match. Undeniably so, they fit together like a puzzle, their flaws complimenting each other.

“Okay let’s finish up here, next one.” She was getting a bit fidgety, unable to touch him here despite her wants. Harry could see it in her eyes, a smug smile stuck on his face. He wanted to give her something to hold her over.

She handed him the next one while he watched her squirm slightly. She was antsy and he knew exactly why.

The newfound sexual energy that they had finally given into had been something that tempted the both of them. It was just more visible on Y/N. She bit at her lip and fiddled with the ends of her hair, legs pressed together as she exhaled shakily. He had taken off his shirt and stood in just jeans, a sight that was honestly hotter than she cared to admit.

There was the lazy smugness, the arrogance that she found so fucking hot it was ridiculous. He knew she was struggling a bit and didn’t offer her anything but temptation, pulling on a few more shirts which she approved all of.

Truly? He could even pull if the stupid chick shirt. It was infuriating.

“You’re being good.” He commented, hanging the last shirt up. “I’m proud of you.” His voice dropped as he approached her, standing tall in front of her sitting form. “Behaving even though I know you’re a mess between your legs. What a good little thing you are. I’m a little surprised given how greedy you were but… you’ve behaved.” His knuckled brushed over her hot cheek, that smirk making her breathing catch. “Good girl.”

She could feel her stomach flip, practically purring as her eyes glossed over in need. He seemed to know exactly what to say to get her here, but she had a feeling he wasn’t going to let her have it. She let her hands find the back of his thighs, holding him there and slowly making her way up.

How she’d love to have him in her mouth right no—

“Don’t even think about it.” Harry grabbed her jaw again, forcing her to look up at him. This was just a warning, but he was really serious about this. Normally he’d be all for a quick blowy in a dressing room but now when she was actively being stalked. Who knows what this guy was capable of.

“Come on… let’s go check out and then we can go home and do whatever you want.” He tried to persuade her but the girl had other plans.

“What about you picking something for me?”

Harry’s tune changed pretty quickly at that idea.

“Well…. I suppose.” He tried not to get excited. Yes, it delayed his plans, but he also was never going to say no to the idea of her buying something pretty to wear exclusively for him.

“Let’s go.”

He didn’t blink at the total at the register, far too in his own head thinking about the fact he was going to get to choose stuff for her- and keeping his eyes around the store to make sure there weren’t any suspicious characters lingering around.

Bunny was preening. Harry had held on to her hand extra tight as they walked along the shops, his hand strong and warm and she felt an extra spring in her step as the other held his shopping bag. Standing next to him gathered some attention but it was attention she liked. Leaning into his body, she knew she was going to rile him up. Get him into some trouble.

“Right there!” She chirped, pulling him suddenly when she saw the shop she wanted to go into.

Harry should have known better. The plan she had all along, created just to torture him. Of course, he would never decline going into a lingerie shop, he knew that this would end incredibly well for him.

“Ahh, right to the point darling.” Harry shook his head a bit at her excitement, taking a look around the shop to figure out where even to begin. “All right, is there anything you don’t feel comfortable wearing?”

He knew that girls were really sensitive when it came to their bodies. He had seen his fair share of meltdowns at the warehouse when the guys commented on girls' bodies without question. He knew better. There was no need to do that, especially when they didn’t plan on seeing them again.

Regardless, he didn’t want Bunny to feel uncomfortable just for the sake of pleasing him. He wanted to choose something she’d be comfortable in. So she could feel like her sexiest self for him.

It made her want to suck him off even more.

Harry, for all his flaws and a bit of emotional blindness, was considerate as hell when it came to her body like this. He was always making sure he had consent to touch her previously, he had always been respectful of her and for that, she appreciated him. Sure, it was the bare minimum. But he stepped up.

“Nope.” She popped the p in the world, giving him a sly smile. “Anything you want. I’m not huge on wearing g strings for a daily thing… but for special occasions they’re fine.” She shrugged, excited for what he could pull.

“Hope you don’t regret giving me free rein.” He chuckled, looking around the store. There was an abundance of lace and silk and bodysuits and panties… a lot of things he knew would look incredible on her.

“I think you’d look incredible in any of this shit. I want to see you in everything.”

“I’m sure you would, Harry. But go on… pick your favorite.” Bunny felt herself get warm at the idea, genuinely interested to find out what Harry’s preferences were.

She was personally eyeing up a few baby doll dresses and silk slip dresses, but that was more her taste. She never really had a specific type she liked anyway, as long as it was comfortable to wear and a cute color. Half the time she didn’t even bother with fancy underwear, but other times she did care because she believed it gave her more confidence.

Harry however was really putting his thought into it. It seemed his eyes were drawn to lighter colors despite his personal taste, hell, most of the things he was touching looked so wrong in his hands. He thinks it’s probably why he likes it so much.

His fingers brushed the delicate lace on mesh, picking it up and thinking clearly about what it would look like on her. He liked the soft pink one with cherry blossoms embroidered on it, a set with a sheer bra and matching panties. He lightly placed it basket Y/N had given to him to put the finds into.

One of the appeals of Y/N was probably a bit of the fact he shouldn’t touch her. Her sunshine and sweetness was something he directly went against in his own personality. Her light to his dark. He was dirtying her, sullying that but if innocence- but she seemed to eat it up.

He chose more. A few sets of light colors, whites and baby pink and powder blue, soft spoken colors and delicate details. Lace and ribbon and softness that he could easily destroy, though he would be gentle with.

His eyes had caught hers lingering in her staple slip dresses and decided to choose some of those in similar fashions, but shorter than she usually wore. He wanted to see what she would do.

“I think the basket is full.” He lifted it up. “I’d make you try on the whole store if I could. But I don’t think I could last that long.”

“Let’s see how many you get through.” She giggled, flattered that he wanted to see her in that many to begin with. It was interesting to see what was in the bag, she expected him to pick something dark to match his own aesthetic.

She didn’t typically wear colors like that either, often choosing something darker or muted and earthy. It’s clear he saw her as such a delicate person, it made her feel so exposed. In a good way.

They made their way into the dressing room once again, but this time they really had to be good because there was a massive gap at the top and bottom of the rooms. Likely to prevent any suspicious behavior. Of course, it covered enough, but they walked all the way to the back just for good measure.

Harry placed the basket down, hanging up his choices on the rack and took a seat. He was strangely a bit nervous to see if she liked them- but not more than his excitement to see her in them.

“Are you…” she swallowed, looking at him sitting with his legs spread and his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re staying while I change into these?”

Harry could tell she was a little nervous, but not so much that he was going to upset her. Still, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable, but there was no way he was leaving her without his eyes on her physically.

“I can look at your feet instead if you’re uncomfortable. I can’t leave you by yourself. I’ve seen it all and like every bit of it, but if it makes you feel more comfortable I can look at the floor while you change.” And he wouldn’t peek.

Maybe.

“No, it’s okay.” If the man wanted to look, let him look. She wasn’t going to stop him. Even with any of the insecurities she had, she was positive he would be more concerned with holding himself together. He was right, he had seen it all. He’d seen far more gruesome things, to him she was the best view.

Stripping down was the easy part.

Y/N took her time picking out which one she wanted first, deciding to start with one that looked both revealing and comfortable. It was lilac, the front had a part that you could tie in the front with two panels of fabric that showed just the right amount of her stomach and the matching thong. She liked the way it was still a bit modest but definitely screamed fuck me.

Y/N turned around so she could show him the front, clasping her hands behind her back as she tried to read his face.

His eyes were dark, looking her up and down as he observed one of his picks. She was fucking stunning, that much as obvious, but he felt hot under his shirt just looking at her.

Her tummy peeked out from the piece, the sheer fabric floating down her sides and the lace covering her breasts. Breasts that still had a few marks from his teeth lingering there.

She looked like his own personal angel. One that had been sent down here to torture him into being a semi decent person.

A large exhale through his nose made him lean back further, rubbing his finger under his nose. “Fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled. “M’getting you that one. Take it off before I do something I regret.”

It was the first one and his cock was twitching, his pants getting a little tight. She was smug by the looks of it and he didn’t like how easily the tables had turned.

“Okay, tell me which one you like best so I can spare you.” She said, deciding that she’d keep that one to try on at home. Her hands hovered over them, but she had a feeling which one he would want her to save for last.

“Black one.” He nodded, watching as she stripped out of the current set and slipped into the new one. Harry wished he could look away, maybe it would be easier for him if he had. Seeing her so comfortable and so willing to show him these sets woke up something inside him that he wasn’t sure he was prepared to deal with. Especially in public.

The set was a light pink one, far sheerer. She felt confident in this one, it was comfy and it had great support.

“My tits look so good!” She groaned, cutting his view of her perky bum short as she turned around once again to let him see. They did look really good. A bit too good.

“Yes, they do.” He released his hands to rub over his thighs, eyeing her up as she turned to him. God fucking damn, they really did.

“Look even better with my marks on ‘em, though.” His eyes drank up the vision, though his hands stayed at his sides. The reason the black had been his favorite was because he felt like he could properly touch her in that. These? She looked like his own angel, untouchable. Something he should avoid, but wanted very badly.

“Give me a spin.” He made the motion with his hand, watching as she obeyed and gave him a look at what she had to offer. A slight bruise on her ass from his hand spanking it, a few on her thighs from when he had held them up. She was littered with reminders of him.

“You look sexy as all hell, Bunny.” He admitted, chewing at his gum. “I think you should get that too. You look really good in those sorts of colors and… I wouldn’t mind seeing your tits in that again.” He would welcome it happily.

Harry was trying very hard to behave, but it was hard. And so was he.

“Mmm thank you,” She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She’d never felt so beautiful in her life. Maybe it was silly, but there was something special about this. She never felt comfortable enough to do this with anyone.

Even though his eyes were absolutely devouring her, he was still sitting in place, not moving. It was enough for him to observe, to see her just standing there for him. The rest he could imagine could remember the feeling of.

The next few were a similar style, but there were some she had been saving for the end for a reason. They showed more than they covered, both of them had garters with clips as well. She’d never had a set like this before and she was surprised Harry picked up three of the same in different colors. He really liked them. The pink one was her favorite so she thought it was the best to try on.

“Could you… help me with these bits? I don’t know how they’re supposed to look…”

God damn it.

Harry swallowed, knowing that touching her was going to be a temptation that he would have to fight- but he nodded. Keeping his legs spread, he motioned for her to come over.

Bunny was giddy, the straps swaying as she walked over to him and felt his hands against her skin as he reached for the clips. The garter had been pulled up her leg, but they were a bit complex to untangle.

She lifted her leg up to rest next to him, standing directly between his legs and probably a bit too close- but she wanted to. Tempting him was her job, and his face was so close to her cunt that she felt the heat stirring right in her stomach. His skilled fingers untangled the bits and stroked her leg a little as he clasped the front.

“Turn around.” His voice rasped, the temptation of pressing kisses to the band of her panties and peeling them down too much- but having her ass in his face didn’t do him much better.

Bunny liked this feeling. The slow build up of tension. Her heart was racing just having him stroke her leg, she’d been dying to touch him this whole day but she said she would be good.

“Harry…” Y/N breathed, hoping he’d give into her even just for a second. She wasn’t sure what she wanted but she wanted something more than this. It was getting so hard to resist.

“Go on.” He motioned her to take a step away from him the moment he finished with the clasps. It was really hard for him to ignore her like that, but he couldn’t give into her here. For her safety.

There was a tiny pout on her face as she stepped away, looking into the mirror at herself. Even she had to admit this was hot. Her body was curved in the places she liked, the outfit screamed sex. She ran her hand over her body, smoothing out invisible creases as she tossed her hair over her shoulders.

Harry didn’t like disappointing her but he knew if he stayed at that angle, he would do something bad. So he stood up, deciding to indulge in a bit of touch that wouldn’t go past anything other than a tease.

“You are a little minx.” He murmured, moving to stand behind her. His hand wrapped around her, flattening on her stomach as he looked at the both of them in the mirror.

It was bittersweet.

They looked hot as a couple. Leather and lace, quite literally. Light and dark. Her aura was soft pink and white clouds and his was the midnight sky and flames, and yet they seemed to melt together.

He looked dirty compared to her. He would never be good enough for a woman like her. A goddess. Oozing goodness and sweetness and things he wanted to devour and own for himself. But for the time being, she was his.

“Don’t be pouty.” His breath tickled her ear. “I’ll give you any and everything you want when we get home. I’ll make you cum so many times your throat is sore from begging and your knees are so weak you can’t stand. But m’not going to touch you out here. It’s too risky.” He kissed her cheek, settling on that.

“Can we go home then?”

She didn’t hesitate, knowing she could try the rest on for him later and have the exact ending she wanted. Part of her liked seeing him try to control his urges, it made her feel powerful and beautiful beyond belief. She could feel how hard he was, her barely covered bum was resting so comfortably against it.

Bunny didn’t want to think, she just wanted to be back home with him in the bubble they’d created. It was nice to have something to keep her mind off of things. Sure, she was upset she was missing class because she genuinely did love learning about cooking, but this was the perfect replacement.

Let’s be real, they both knew they’d be buying everything he put in that basket. It was nice to try it all on for him of course.

“Yeah. We can.” He sighed, knowing it was for the best. He couldn’t behave himself and he knew it now, plus Bunny was not too far off herself. He could tell she was desperate for it- and being honest, so was he.

He had gotten a taste of her and now he was starving. He had held back for a while but now it was time to indulge in his cravings before she decided she didn’t want to share herself with him anymore.

“God, M’gonna ruin you.” He murmured softly against her neck, placing a few kisses to the warm skin. “Just had you a few hours ago but I want to make you weak again. Looking at you like this is driving me mad.”

419 notes · View notes

badaziraphaletakes · 2 months

Note

can you please stop? screenshotting someone else’s post is extremely rude and only makes the fandom a worse place. talk about a bad take you saw, describe how it’s harmful, and vague all you want, but don’t screenshot. i agree that most of these takes are awful but that’s no excuse to do this to people. either confront the person who’s take you don’t like or make your own post. stop screenshotting, please.

Either confront the person who’s take you don’t like or make your own post.

The assumption that I didn’t try that is where you went wrong. I (mod X) started this blog only after I tried many, many times to confront people about their offensive takes directly and it didn’t work. I was subjected to appalling harassment and even bigotry. That’s what happens when you try to engage with someone who’s being offensive.

I had been throwing the idea around for weeks and what finally decided me on starting it was that I found out that I wasn't alone. That the anti-Autistic bias and the ableism and the transphobia and the victim-blaming and the misogyny (and on and on and on) that we kept seeing and being subjected to was ruining our enjoyment of this show. This was bigger than just me.

FTR, most of the takes that are submitted to us (note that I'll be switching between "I" and "we" in this reply depending on the context) don’t have a handle attached to them, but of the few that do include a handle, 99% of the time I have recognized it as someone who I have seen being so bigoted that there was no possible way I could engage with them. We don't confront people directly partly because we don't want to direct people who disagree back to the OP's blog, and partly to keep the mods safe.

You say “do this to people” like this blog is committing some kind of outrage, which is absurd. We are, at worst, being slightly rude (which I think is justified considering sarcasm and humor are one of the only weapons we have to fight back against hate), whereas most of the posts we comment on are outright hateful. They’re the ones “doing this to people”.

We are being far more considerate of the writers’ feelings and their dignity than they ever were of other people’s in the fandom. The takes are not just ‘awful’ (although, that too haha); they are actively harming vulnerable members of the fandom, and, more concerningly, are spreading messages that will poison our views on how we should treat Autistic people, ab*se survivors, and the like in broader society. Quite frankly, the people who are spouting the kind of anti-Autistic/ableist/victim-blaming/otherwise bigoted crap that forms the bulk of the content we feature here deserve to have their posts screenshotted. People who say things like that do not deserve to be handled with kid gloves in response.

(Also I don’t have time to re-type and slightly paraphrase every bad take I see. And if I did, people would throw out “no one is really saying this”. And even if it weren’t for that, I don’t think it’s reasonable or appropriate to expect me to use my time that way.)

Incidentally, nothing is stopping people from messaging/asking us or commenting if they recognize a post as their own, but only one person has ever done that, asking if a post was theirs. I replied that it was, leaving the ball in their court. So far we haven’t heard back from them about the matter, which is fine. But I digress.

As for this blog making the fandom a worse place - even though it’s only a few weeks old, I’ve had an average of two new people a day, every day, tell me how grateful they are I created it and how it makes them feel safe and how it’s the only reason they haven’t left the fandom. I’ve even had multiple people say “I was going to leave the fandom because of that specific post and then your blog called it out and I felt like I wasn’t alone”. So yeah, I'd say screenshotting is important here.

There is a subset of the fandom - many of us Autistic, Disabled, ab*se survivors, GNC, trans, and/or otherwise oppressed - who have been made to feel EXTRAORDINARILY unsafe by the Aziraphale hate (which far, far too often is thinly-veiled hate for some of the aforementioned groups of people) and the truly scary way people double down when we push back against it. So I don’t care if people are annoyed by my sharing a screenshot of their post. Not when this blog has become a safe space for so many people who otherwise would have had Good Omens ruined for them by the bigotry and general hatefulness we keep seeing.

LSS I will not stop building this tiny lil corner of the internet that is the only part of the fandom where many of us feel safe.

I actually made a post addressing almost this exact thing a couple weeks ago; if I can find it, I’ll add it here in a rb.

#good omens #goodomens #good omens 2 #badaziraphaletakes #goodomens2

95 notes · View notes

nyrasproblm · 3 months

Text

Two Princesses - Chapter Seven: Marriage.

Word Count: 4,1K

Warning: arranged marriage, mention of libidinous acts, almost detailed childbirth, threats, insults.

(I left links to Ariella's wedding dress and wedding hairstyle, be sure to click on them to see what she looked like at the wedding!!)

Ariella stayed in Dragonstone for at least two weeks. She should have only stayed a few days, but whenever she brought up the subject of returning to King's Landing, she saw her family become tense and irritated. But she couldn't postpone it any longer, the wedding was in just a few days and she had to go back, so she reluctantly said goodbye to everyone and said that she was waiting for them for her wedding celebrations.

She knew most wouldn't. Maybe Baela and Rhaena, just.

When she disembarked in King's Landing and got into the carriage, she felt her heart sink, something bad was happening. The carriage arrived at the gates and she was announced, entering straight through the courtyard, without stopping to absorb the crooked looks that were directed at her.

She was almost reaching her quarters when she heard someone's voice behind her, making her take a deep breath before turning around.

"I hope your trip was pleasant, stepdaughter." Alicent said with a skeptical face.

"It was very pleasant, thank you, Your Grace." she said and bowed, hoping to end the conversation there, but Alicent wouldn't allow it.

"A little long, don't you think? The wedding is just a few days away and you should be here with me and your fiancé." she said, taking a step closer to Ariella, who remained still.

"Are there any details about the celebration that need to be worked out, Your Grace?" Ariella asked, clasping her hands into fists.

"Your dress."

"Oh."

It was true, she didn't actually have a wedding dress yet, whenever the tailor came Alicent was never pleased with one, so the matter was postponed several times.

"Come on then, the dress is very important, right?” she forced a smile and waited for her stepmother to lead the way.

They walked, with Alicent and Ser Criston in front and Ariella behind them, trying not to roll her eyes. When they arrived in the room, Alicent gestured for the maid, Talia, to send for the tailor in town and then sat down, being faced by Ariella, who remained standing.

"Aren't you going to sit down?" Alicent asked.

"Yes, of course." she said and sat down on the small sofa facing Alicent.

The tailor arrived within a few minutes and Ariella frowned when she saw him pulling dresses out of a trunk.

"I'm confused, I thought we were going to choose a fabric before making a dress." she turned to face him.

"The dresses were made by order of Queen Alicent, princess." he said respectfully.

She turned to Alicent and raised an eyebrow.

"I had to make arrangements, you took too long on your trip, stepdaughter." she said and gestured to the trunk with the dresses inside. "I chose the fabric for these myself, I'm sure one of them will please you."

Ariella just sighed and got up, going to try on the dresses.

She tried on five dresses, each time the tailor described where the fabric came from and as the model highlighted that she was royalty, Alicent made small noises of disapproval at everyone.

She hadn't liked any of them until she tried on the sixth dress. She sighed and looked at herself in the large mirror before her, the tailor started talking again and before Alicent could say anything, Ariella interrupted her.

"I want this one."

"I don't know if this is appropriate, it's a bit simple-" Alicent began.

"I want this dress." she repeated.

"Very well then." Alicent stood up and began to leave the rooms.

The tailor smiled brightly at Ariella and began putting the dresses back into the trunk.

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

The days passed quickly and soon there was only one day left until the wedding. Ariella tried to stay in her own chambers as much as possible, she didn't want to see the nobles who arrived for her wedding, they were the same ones who would talk badly about her and Rhaenyra behind her back.

She also didn't see Aemond much, they had only spoken a few times since her return from Dragonstone.

The day was particularly pleasant, neither hot nor cold, so she leaned back in one of the chairs facing the fireplace when the door opened abruptly, making her jump a little. She turned her head towards the door, seeing Claire a little out of breath, she was about to scold her when she started to speak.

"Princess, princess!" she regained her composure and bowed before speaking again. "Princess Rhaenyra is here, everyone is. Prince Daemon, the young princes, Baela and Rhaena, everyone!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Ariella's eyes widened a little and placed the book on the small table in front of her, standing up.

"What?"

"I saw them in the courtyard, they were coming in-" she was interrupted when one of the guards cleared his throat.

"Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon Targaryen, Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon, Ladys Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, princess." he sighed as he finished speaking the name of the troupe that entered Ariella's chambers.

Rhaenyra smiled and sighed, approaching her sister with open arms, her large belly covered by a burgundy cloak.

"I thought you wanted to stay away from King's Landing." Ariella said as Rhaenyra hugged her.

"I wouldn't leave you at a time like this." she replied and made room for her children and cousins, who also approached Ariella.

Jacaerys wrapped her in a quick hug and Lucerys did the same, automatically expecting his aunt's kiss on the top of his head, which she gave.

She hugged Baela and Rhaena as if she hadn't left Dragonstone almost just a week before.

"Where are the youngest?" she asked for Rhaenyra's youngest childrens.

"With the maids."

She looked at her uncle, who was looking at her tenderly, silently, and smiled at him.

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

The wedding would be the next day. She didn't want to go to sleep, she was afraid of what awaited her the next day, she had already been married before, of course, but the union before was not the same as now, Harwin had never treated her as someone inferior the way Aemond did.

She sighed and decided to go to bed at once, would the wedding happen even if she stayed up all night.

The next day she got up at her usual time, even a little later than usual, and spent the whole day in her rooms. She didn't go out for breakfast or lunch, she ate her meals alone.

The day passed quickly, it seemed like it was done on purpose. When afternoon arrived, the maids came in and started to tidy her up.

They washed her vigorously, leaving her skin a little red, applied scented oils and combed her hair, making her hairstyle with braids. Finally, they put the wedding dress on her.

"You look very beautiful, princess." one of the maids said smiling.

"Indeed, princess." another said.

Ariella remained silent, just smiled a tiny smile and shook her head.

The doors opened again and she turned her head, seeing Alicent in another of her green dresses, a more formal one this time, with the seven-pointed star on the pendant on her necklace. Her red hair tied at the roots falling over her shoulders like a waterfall. In her hand she carried a small green velvet bag.

"Stepdaughter, you look so beautiful." she said smiling and hugged Ariella tightly. "I brought something to give you a good start to your marriage."

The queen opened the small velvet bag and Ariella felt butterflies in her stomach. It was a necklace like Alicent's, with a pendant in the shape of a seven-pointed star. Alicent opened the clasp and gestured for her to turn around, as she did so, she lifted her hair so her stepmother could put the necklace on her.

She turned around again and saw Alicent smiling tenderly at her.

"May the gods watch over you always." She lifted her face a little and placed a kiss on Ariella's forehead, who swallowed hard.

She and Alicent walked down the halls to the doors of the Keep's main hall, where the king stood, escorted by four guards, leaning on a cane. He smiled when he saw his daughter approaching and extended a hand to her.

"My dear, so beautiful." he said. "Today is a day of joy for everyone."

He had a golden crown and mask on his head and wore a black, red and gold cloak.

"Yes, father." she said stoically.

He nodded to his left arm, showing her only the top half of his arm, as he had lost his forearm to the disease a few years earlier.

"It seems to me we have a little problem." he said jokingly but she could see the shame in his eyes. "The right arm is for the cane."

"I'll hold your cloak, like this." She held a piece of his black cloak, then gave a tiny smile.

Viserys felt his heart ache, she had acted the same way since she arrived in King's Landing, when she was just five years old. Now she was thirty and still had the same gentle manner as when she was younger. He came closer and kissed her forehead for a long time.

Then he approached her ear to whisper.

"I never regretted it, I never regretted your birth, not for a moment."

She felt her eyes blurring and kissed his cheek.

They separated and she continued holding the cloak, seeing Viserys nod for the doors to be opened.

The grand doors were opened and a guard announced.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, king of the Andals, and of the Royanars, and of the First Men. Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm."

Viserys began to limp toward the center of the room, Ariella holding onto his cloak.

The people were separated into two halves, the public was made up of nobles, maesters, members of the court and council.

She saw Aemond standing on the other side of the room at a sort of altar, he was wearing black leather, as always, and the eye patch on his face, In his right hand he held a black mantle. Before him stood a septon. Aegon, Helaena and Otto were on the right side in front of the altar. Rhaenyra, Daemon and their family were on the left side.

She arrived at the foot of the altar and climbed up, Viserys nodded silently for Aemond to hold her hand and positioned himself next to Alicent, on the right side in front of the altar.

The septon looks at Aemond.

"Now you can place the mantle on the bride and bring her under your protection.”

He did as he was told, passing the mantle with the Targaryen sigil over Ariella's shoulders.

"My lords, my ladies, we stand here before the eyes of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." the septon says. He takes a ribbon and ties it around Aemond and Ariella's joined hands, making a knot. "I declare that Aemond and Ariella Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be anyone who comes between them.”

She stares at their joined hands for a moment.

"Under the gaze of the Seven, I have the honor of uniting these two souls, making them one for eternity." after he says this, he undoes the knot.

She and Aemond would be bonded for life now. She looks at him, he keeps his gaze on his hands.

"Look at each other and say the words." the septon instructs.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger..." they say at the same time, this time Aemond stares at her.

"I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

"I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

"With this kiss, I promise my love." Aemond says.

Ariella swallows hard and stretches her face slightly, closing her eyes, feeling her brother's lips touch hers lightly for a few minutes, then they turn to the audience, who applauds them.

She glances at the family from the corner of her eye, seeing that Rhaenyra, her sons and stepdaughters were applauding hesitantly. Daemon looked on in disgust.

The party that followed was enormous, a huge and luxurious banquet, with three kilometric tables, two for the guests and a central one, above a small staircase, facing the guests.

Viserys and Alicent sat in the center of the table, with Ariella and Aemond on their right, with Rhaenyra and Daemon's family occupying this same side. Aegon, Helaena and Otto were on the left side.

Viserys got up with difficulty and began another of his speeches, his voice breathless.

"It is a joy for me to be present at this celebration today. Uniting two of my children in marriage, as the traditions of my house dictate. It's such a joy to have my family all together here." he looked at Rhaenyra. "Let the festivities begin, bring on the pie!"

Ariella resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The pigeon pie. It was tradition that at weddings of noble houses or the royal family, a huge pie was made and the first piece was cut by the bride and groom. It received this name because at weddings of royalty or rich houses, the pie was emptied and filled with live pigeons, which flew out when the pie was cut. She prayed that this one only had meat inside.

Two servants brought a cart with the huge pie on top. Ariella and Aemond got up and he held her hand to help her down the few steps so they could get close to the pie.

One of the servants handed them a large knife. Ariella held it and Aemond placed his hand on top of hers, lightly inserting it into the pie, she sighed in relief when she saw that the filling was meat.

They cut a piece and the servants placed it on a plate, which was returned to the bride and groom. The hall remained silent.

Ariella accepted the fork the servant gave her and took a bite of the pie, seeing Aemond do the same, but in a more subtle way.

"Is it boar meat?" she asked, causing the silence in the hall to die as a few people laughed.

"Yes, I hunted wild boar yesterday." Aemond replied with his voice low, so that only she could hear.

"I didn't know you hunted." She raised her eyebrows.

"I was forced to go."

"Ah."

She smiled and said that the pie was good, receiving positive noise from the guests in response, then she and Aemond sat down again.

The celebrations continued, she danced with her nephews, her uncle, and at one point even with Aegon, but her happiness died when one of the guests made a comment about the bed ceremony.

"There will be no bed ceremony, my lord." Aemond replied dryly.

"It's part of the tradition, even if the bride is no longer a virgin-"

"All you want is a spectacle for you to talk and gossip about, but that's not going to happen." he said and Ariella's eyes widened a little.

Anyway, they were escorted by a few guests to the door of the couple's quarters, but everyone left as soon as they entered.

Ariella sat down in one of the chairs and sighed.

"I have something to confess." Aemond said and she turned to him.

"What?"

"Yesterday, after the hunt, I was encouraged... I was encouraged to sleep with some young virgin." he said.

"Oh..."

"I did so at Aegon's insistence, but I take full responsibility. He said that's what Rogar Baratheon did when he got married and wasn't his wife's first husband, he slept with young virgins."

"Aemond, you don't need to explain to me."

"I wanted to be honest, we should be honest with each other."

She looked to the side and thought about what to say.

"If you want, we don't need to do this today, we can do it any other day."

Aemond turned his head to her, looking at her with his one eye.

"I would like to consummate now, if that is also your wish. I want to legitimize the marriage." he said.

She swallowed and nodded.

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

Aemond left the shared quarters when the act was done, she didn't mind, she even preferred to be alone.

She covered herself with the sheets and slept, she heard strange movements outside the door, as if people were rushing from one side to the other. She preferred to stay, the last time she got up to investigate something like this, she got an ugly scar on her forearm.

The next day she followed the same routine as always, she was bathed, dressed and had breakfast alone. As she waited for Claire to finish combing her hair, she glanced at the maid in the mirror's reflection, seeing her young face contorted in dissatisfaction.

"Are you going to tell me what bothers you or am I going to have to guess?" Ariella asked.

Claire immediately dropped her expression and looked at the princess.

"Princess... there's something, something important is happening."

"What?"

"Yesterday in the early hours of the morning, Princess Rhaenyra began labor."

Ariella felt her heart stop for a moment. She got up in a hurry, barely giving Claire time to put the last pin in her hair.

"What are you talking about?"

"As the princess's quarters are almost on the other side of the castle, you can't hear it from here. I tried to come and warn her but Talia informed the queen and she forbade anyone from bothering the bride and groom. The young princes tried to come too, but they were forbidden from passing into this part of the Keep." she said with her head bowed.

Ariella stared at any point in the room for a few seconds, then grabbed the skirts of her dress and started to walk quickly to the door but stopped when she heard Claire's uncertain voice.

"Princess, it's not wise to go, they'll know it was me who told you-"

"Nothing will happen to you."

"Princess-"

"Claire, I already told you it's going to be okay!"

"No, princess, that's not it." she moved a little closer. "The labor is not over, Princess Rhaenyra is still with the maester and midwives."

Ariella swallowed hard and turned around, walked away hurriedly, almost running, hearing at a glance the congratulations that were addressed to her on her wedding, but she didn't stop to hear any.

She only slowed down when she got close to the corridor where Rhaenyra's quarters were, hearing her sister's pained whimpers and moans before she even entered the corridor.

She saw Baela and Rhaena outside the door. They hurried to hug her when she approached. She remembered years ago when their mother died giving birth. It must be painful to see their father's wife going through difficult times in the same way.

"It was the middle of the night when the news reached us." Rhaena said.

"We wanted to tell you but Alicent put those guard dogs over there." Baela motioned toward two guards, who now seemed nervous about her presence there.

"It's okay, I'm already here. Where are my nephews?"

"They went to the training yard, upset. The princess said she didn't want them to see that." Baela replied.

Before Ariella could respond, a loud moan interrupted them. She turned to her cousins and silently said she was going to ask to come in. She approached the door and made a few light knocks.

"Rhaenyra, it's me." she said loudly so her sister could hear inside.

A few seconds passed and then the door was opened by one of the maids. The inside looked like chaos, there were cloths stained with blood, bowls of water also stained with blood and other things. Daemon was leaning against the wall near the window, watching everything silently with a worried expression.

The maester present said a few words to Rhaenyra, who was on the floor, being held by some maids.

"What is this? Why isn't she in bed?" Ariella asked the maester, who stood up and spoke to her in a low voice.

"She refused to stay in bed, princess, we stayed here all morning and still she insists on-"

"I'm here, still." Rhaenyra's irritated voice spoke.

Ariella got a little closer and pulled her platinum hair out of her face, while another maid wiped away the sweat.

"You can believe? You're even more beautiful now." she said and kissed Rhaenyra's temple.

The older girl let out a giggle that was interrupted by another groan of pain.

"Push just a little more, princess." the midwife said.

Rhaenyra grunted as she pushed, she did this process three more times before the high pitched cry could be heard.

"It's a girl, princess." the midwife said.

"Visenya." she said.

The maids around her let out exclamations of joy and Rhaenyra began to cry, reaching for the small bundle. She picked up the baby and kissed her bloody forehead.

"Is she healthy?"

"Like a bull, princess." the midwife replied.

Ariella looked at everything in silence, she had lost the words, she was too amazed to speak. Then Rhaenyra turned to face her.

"Here." she started to get ready to hand the baby to Ariella.

"Oh, no, no, I-"

"Take her to her father, give her to him to carry." Rhaenyra said, she knew that Ariella wouldn't easily accept holding her niece.

The youngest swallowed hard and took the baby in her arms, standing up. He had almost no hair, just a few platinum tufts, his nose was like Daemon's and his mouth was like Rhaenyra's. She was tiny.

She paused for a few seconds, watching the little girl fidget before starting to cry, then she gave the little girl her pinky finger to hold.

She came back to reality when she remembered that she should give her to Daemon, so she walked over to him and placed the little baby in his arms.

She turned and said goodbye to Rhaenyra.

"I need to go now, I'll be back to see you later."

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

The tender moments of Visenya's birth almost made her forget what had happened before. Almost.

She walked with firm steps to Alicent's quarters, being surprised to see her father there, sitting on one of the sofas. Alicent heard the doors open and turned around, smiling and going towards her to hug her.

She turned away from her stepmother and stopped, facing her father.

"Father, I have matters to discuss."

"About the good news? The little princess who was born." he said as he leaned back on the couch.

"Yes, about that."

She turned to look at Alicent, who was standing in the same spot.

"Father, did you know that I was not informed about Rhaenyra's labor?" she turned to him again. "I understand it was my wedding night, but Aemond had already left the room anyway."

She clenched her fists.

"Rhaenyra spent the whole night in labor and I wasn't informed, she could have died and I wouldn't have known until it was time to burn the body. My nephews and cousins were prohibited from saying anything, in addition to being watched by guards and prohibited from coming to me. The same thing with the servants. My maid was the one who told me and she fears for her life."

"Alicent, is this true?" Viserys asked with a frown.

"It was my son's first night married, he and Ariella shouldn't be bothered by frivolous matters."

"Frivolous matters? It was my sister's labor." she rebelled and clenched her fists even tighter. "It's past time for you to know your place."

Viserys leaned on his cane and stood up, fearing that his daughter might do something she would regret.

"You and your father's viper rule in my father's name after filling him with poppy milk, isn't that enough?" she takes a deep breath. "If you come between me and my sister again, I will be hanged for treason for the actions I will commit against you."

Viserys approached her.

"Don't let your temper guide you, my daughter, you never have, calm down."

Ariella approached and held Alicent's arms, whispering in her ear.

"A religious woman who preaches for her family, you went to visit my father every night until he slept with you, whore."

She released her stepmother and left.

#original character #king viserys #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #alicent hightower #queen rhaenyra #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #marriage

89 notes · View notes

goodqueenaly · 3 months

Note

Do you know what fields of study that the metals brass, pewter, platinum, red gold, and tin could represent on a maester chain? I think the other metals are more straightforward but I am blanking on what these five could mean.

We may actually have an answer when it comes to red gold, or at least the suggestion of a potential answer. Jon noted to Maester Aemon back in AGOT that “gold [was] for the study of money and accounts”, while Bran told Luwin in ACOK that “gold [was] for sums and numbers”. Neither Jon nor Bran specifies red or yellow gold in their respective statements, meaning that it is nearly impossible to differentiate between the two metals in terms of their respective subjects. Personally, I like to imagine that red gold is for “sums and numbers” while yellow gold is for “money and accounts”, signifying the close connection but important, if subtle, distinctions between the two. However, all of this is only a guess, and red gold could represent virtually anything.

The question of red gold aside, I do have some thoughts regarding the other metals. As far as we know, there are at least seven metals whose respective areas of study have yet to be revealed: brass, pewter, platinum, tin, electrum, steel, and lead. (Note that there also appear to be at least six other areas of study for which an accompanying link metal is unknown, as there are 21 listed archmaesters in the appendix of AFFC.) When considering the subjects that these metals might represent, I think it is important to remember that the Citadel functions as both a de facto Westerosi university and as a business marketing the services of its scholars. Therefore, while I would expect - and indeed, we have evidence of - maesters studying and writing works on what we might call purely academic subjects, we should also anticipate (and again, I think we have some evidence for) maesters studying more practical, quasi-professional subjects.

So here’s how I personally envisions the subjects for the known-but-unassociated metals (long, more under the cut):

Brass: shipbuilding, navigation, and generally speaking the study of the ocean. We know that maesters do study subjects along these lines, because Luwin tells Bran that he, Luwin, could teach Bran “the way a sailor steers his ship by the stars”. Because any number of Westerosi families govern port cities and towns or hold seats along major waterways, knowledge of ships and sailing could be a very marketable skill for a maester looking to be placed with an aristocratic family. I specifically decided to assign brass to shipbuilding/naval studies because brass is a metallurgic cousin, so to speak, of bronze (being an alloy of copper and zinc versus an alloy of copper and tin), which felt appropriate for the respective subject matters; as Luwin notes, maritime travel depends, in part, on knowledge the stars to understand one’s position on the sea.

Pewter: agriculture. Again, much of Westeros is an agricultural society, meaning that an understanding of plants, planting cycles, and weather patterns would be potentially invaluable to a maester in an aristocratic Westerosi household. We know, in fact, that maesters act as advisors to lords when it comes to farming and cultivation, because GRRM himself noted that “[t]he maesters try and monitor temperature grand [sic] closely, to advise on when to plant and when to harvest and how much food to store”. Likewise, because we see Maester Luwin discusses harvests, grains, greens, and salted meat during the feast at Winterfell, and because he later tells Bran that he, Luwin, could teach the young Stark prince about herblore, I believe agriculture, farming cycles, and knowledge of various plants would be a key practical area of study for maesters. That said, because pewter is a humble and common material, often used in Westeros for basic cutlery and drinkware, I associated it with agriculture because I can imagine this area of study would be considered unrefined, even vulgar, especially by those maesters looking to spend their lives as Citadel scholars (and, by contrast, might be among the first links for lowborn/smallfolk students to earn, because of their own potential familial background in and knowledge of the agricultural world).

Platinum: law. Perhaps this is partially (or … more than partially) wish fulfillment on my part (as I, and any number of other folks in the fandom, have been complaining about the lack of clarity on Westeros’ legal system forever), but I certainly believe that maesters can and do study law at the Citadel. After all, think of how many times maesters have been associated with citing, creating, or asserting laws and legal positions: the“[s]ix maesters [who] traveled with him [i.e. Aegon I while on progress], to answer any questions he might have on local law"; the objections of Grand Maesters Gawen and Orwyle to the succession claims of Maegor and Rhaenyra, respectively; and the participation of Grand Maester Benifer on Jaehaerys I’s legal reform council (to say nothing of maesterly works like, say, Justice and Injustice in the North: Judgments of Three Stark Lords). Because Westerosi law must, I think, be such a huge and complex topic - understanding the laws and precedents of each of the millennia-old pre-Conquest kingdoms and principalities, not to mention all of the laws created after the unification of Westeros (before and after the formal incorporation of Dorne) - I assigned this topic the metal platinum. Platinum is a precious metal, perhaps a fitting reward for those maesters who fully commit themselves to such a deep and complex area of study.

Tin: geography. I use “geography” as sort of catch-all term to mean the investigation of Terros as a natural world, the creation and analysis of maps for that world, and the study of cultures around the world. We know that maesters study the natural world (think of Arianne, in her second TWOW sample chapter, remembering the debates on the nature of storms held between a septon, a maester, and her father), that maesters create maps (as Robb has Maester Vyman do so to outline his claims to territory as King in the North and King of the Trident), and that maesters study the peoples and cultures of Terros (think of maesterly writings like, say, Songs the Dead Men Sing, or Rubies and Iron, or Horse Tribes, Being a Study of the Nomads of the Eastern Plains of Essos). I like the idea of tin for geography’s associated metal because of tin's connections to the astronomy-linked bronze (that is, pairing the study of the earth with the study of the heavens) and the (so I’ve suggested) agriculture-linked pewter (that is, studying the land to study its cultivation).

Electrum: alchemy. We know that alchemy is a subject studied both generally in Westeros (Yandel refers to Aenys I as a dabbler in alchemy) as well as specifically at the Citadel (Gyldayn notes that Archmaester Vaegon was “devoted to alchemy”, among other subjects). As a subject centered on the transmutation or transformation of elements and matter (and which is popularly associated with the idea of turning “base” metals like lead into “noble” metals like gold) it felt fitting to assign this subject the metal electrum - that is, an alloy of gold and silver.

Steel: languages. Again, we know that maesters study languages: look at the unfortunate Maester Kedry who accompanied Quentyn Martell on his ill-fated voyage east, or Marwyn who “talked with hairy Ibbenese and pitch-black Summer Islanders in their own tongues”, or Haldon Halfmaester who has educated young Aegon in various languages. It also seems that aristocratic Westerosi children learn High Valyrian, at least as an academic subject, as we see Sam, Tyrion, and Arya reflect on their education in High Valyrian. So I tend to think that maesters probably can and do learn High Valyrian as an initial language, and then can earn addition links through study of other cultures’ tongues. I don’t have a particularly strong reason for making this one steel, other than associating study of High Valyrian with a metallurgic cousin to Valyrian steel.

Lead: architecture. Again, I do think there is some suggestion that maesters study this subject: Luwin suggests that he could teach Bran “how to build a castle”, while Gyldayn notes that “[t]he task of building them [i.e. the walls of King’s Landing] was conferred upon Grand Maester Gawen and Ser Osmund Strong”. While this sort of subject could be folded into, say, warcraft, I think there are enough examples of buildings in Westeros that are not specifically designed for war, as well as enough potential for specialization, that I would separate the study from warcraft. (And honestly, how can the Citadel exist in a city with one of the architectural wonders of the world and not support architecture as its own field of study?) I assigned lead to architecture because of his historical use in construction, especially pipes and roofing.

#asoiaf meta #the citadel #maesters #worldbuilding

120 notes · View notes

redyarns · 2 months

Text

resist much, obey little (ch 1)

Alastor had a noose around his neck.

There was only one person who could loosen it.

--------

Temptation had never strung Lucifer along. He was an angel of Heaven no matter what anyone else said, and he had never fallen whim to any of the sins that humans were so eager to do.

And Alastor, a demon and a sinner who had fallen even further after death, was the most forbidden fruit of all.

He was the very embodiment of blasphemy.

But by God, did Lucifer want him.

--------

Knock-knock.

Lucifer let out a weak groan as he slowly let his arm slide off his eyes and off the side of the couch. Red starlight drifted through the torn curtains of a nearby window and nearly blinded him even with his eyes closed, and he had to squint and blink half a dozen times before he raised a hand and scrubbed at his face.

Knock-knock.

“Give me a second,” he called to the idiot who kept banging on his door.

He felt like, well. He felt like someone had take a grinder, stuffed him inside, made him into a sausage, and then shoved said sausage into all their orifices.

He hadn't felt this tired, this pained, in a very long time, and he liked to think he had a high pain tolerance. Nothing had hurt him quite as much as the Fall, or when Lilith left, or when he had to acknowledge his subjects, but he still couldn't quite shake the bone-aching exhaustion as there was a small rustle beside him along with a coo.

Knock-knock-knock.

“I said in a minute!” Lucifer barked again, the infuriating sound pacified at least for now as his tone shifted into something far more gentle while he curled around the small bundle of warmth that he had fallen asleep with. “My little princess, did you sleep well?”

Charlotte Morningstar was the apple of his eye and she was all the more beautiful because of it. She was tucked carefully in between the solid back of the couch and his own body. There was no one in Hell or even the Heavens that would try to defy him and dare to harm her, but it quelled at least some of the constant anxiety in him to know she was near him.

She waved her chubby fists in the air, her eyes already crinkled at the edges with her delighted smile, and he couldn't help it as he gathered her even closer and buried his nose into her soft, beautiful hair and inhale the smell of baby powder.

“Well, starshine, I guess it's time to see who wants to bother our peace so early in the morning,” Lucifer sighed.

Honestly, what kind of fool knocked on anyone's door this early, much less the devil's himself? He dreamed of strangling the idiot who was standing outside his house; maybe it was a stupid imp who wandered somewhere they shouldn't have, or Asmodeus coming to whine to him again, or even worse, Lili -

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.

“How dare you disturb your king's slumber?” Lucifer roared, now fully enraged as he ripped open the door so forcefully that it was torn off the hinges completely.

Bits of wood and debris rained around him as his tail lashed in anger, his horns spontaneously grown out of the crown of his head, and he was only a second away from turning this worthless demon into a husk, only for a piece of paper to suddenly be shoved into his face.

“What the - “ Lucifer said, and he squinted to read the blurry text, a result of staying up far too many nights in a row and refusing to do anything about it.

Hey, Idiot!

Want a job no other can fulfill? Do you want some light shed in your otherwise pitifully empty life?

Are you capable of destroying the very atoms who dare to disturb my own?

Then this is the job for you!

Your King of Hell is in need of assistance!

(Fail and I will rip out your intestines, stuff them with your liver and kidneys, and make you eat your meat sausages while gouging out your eyes to prepare you jelly on toast.)

Details include:

-Changing and checking diapers

-Feeding and napping at appropriate times

-Obliterating anyone who dares to harm Charlie or make her cry

-Entertaining her and keeping her away from that blasted thing called a television

-Keeping me, your boss (and overlord and King of Hell) updated on every activity she does

-Schedule appointments and calls accordingly

-And anything else I ask you because I said so

Contact the number below to get in touch with me, Lucifer Morningstar, to schedule an interview today!

666-666-6666

Lucifer had to read it once, twice, before he managed to dig up some fuzzy memory from about at least four months ago.

He remembered it in pieces; how exhausted he was as he tried to cope with the loss of his wife and the sudden gain of a child; his madness as he tried his best to coax Charlie into sleep, even as she refused and wailed; his internal grief as he tried to understand what to do or how to do it.

He had summoned a succubus and demanded that they put up all of his haphazardly made fliers all around hell. In complete honesty, he had forgotten all about it as soon as the papers disappeared from his desk, as Charlie had proceeded to vomit over his button-up and was wailing again. She'd developed a fever and the night had dissolved into a frenzy to better her as quickly as possible.

He hadn't expected anyone to read the flier, much less even give it a second thought, and his horns and tail slowly disappeared as he pushed aside the paper and glared at the demon who dared to show up right at his doorstep.

The demon was a sinner. He had a soul unlike the hellborne, and seemed to enjoy it, too. He grinned too widely and seemed way too into the dress-red-for-Hell theme, and when he spoke, his voice crackled with the poor frequency of an old timey radio as he said, “well hello to you, my liege! I suppose I might have troubled you this morning, but I’m here about your curious job offer!”

“Why are you here at all?” Lucifer snapped, balancing Charlie on his hip and bouncing her when she began to fuss. She drooled on the lapel of his jacket, but as long as she wasn't crying, that was fine by him, so he allowed her to continue as he snarled, “the flier says to call me at the number on the bottom! Are you as blind as you are disobedient?”

The demon's grin widened just by a fraction of an inch, and he bent down into a deep, sarcastic bow. “My apologies, Your Majesty. That was not an oversight on my part; I just don't have a fondness for those… things.”

“Things?”

“Cellphones,” the demon said slowly, like the word was clunky and ill-fitting in his mouth. He rubbed his chin with clawed fingers in thought and said, “I'm rather old fashioned, you could say, and those little devices with their tiny buttons are beyond my time.”

“Huh,” Lucifer grunted, less than a little interested in whatever the demon was saying. He had most of his attention on Charlie, who was now gnawing on his finger with her gums, and he said, “yeah, whatever you say, grandpa. If you want an interview then come in. But touch anything and I'll kill you.”

“I wouldn't dream of it, sire!” The demon trilled happily as he stepped over the threshold and, bizarrely enough, summoned a microphone staff and used it like a cane.

This demon was an unusual one, even among Lucifer's bunch of vile and annoying little shits he called his subjects, and he wondered if he made a mistake letting him in as he pointed at the now broken pieces of the door and said, “that's your first question. If you really aren't illiterate and you read that flier, then you know I don't want some useless little wimp. Show me how powerful you are and then I'll - “

Magic swelled in the air like a sudden puff of air, and Lucifer blinked as the door was suddenly fixed and placed back on its hinges. Why, the smug asshole even decorated the damn thing with little carvings of microphones all around the edges.

“You didn't let me finish,” Lucifer snarled.

“No need to, Your Majesty,” the demon said, looking rather pleased with his handiwork as he observed the wood. “What kind of assistant would I be if I couldn't at least predict your basic wants or needs?”

Lucifer stared, tilting his head slightly.

The demon didn’t say the words in contempt. In fact, he seemed excited about it, which further solidified the idea that he was a weirdo.

Lucifer was the leader of the Pride Ring, after all, so he was excellent at evoking hilarious reactions by poking at people's sensitive prides, but this demon didn't seem at all offended over the demeaning job of being an assistant.

And to think a powerful demon like this existed at all… his magic from just now was similarly no joke. It was the kind of stuff that tingled across Lucifer's skin and nearly down his back and to his wings, which rustled restlessly when he thought too hard about it.

He always had them tucked away for several reasons, but to think a sinner had the ability to create enough power to have him move even a single feather was… impressive.

It was impressive and he was annoyed about it, which probably showed on his face as he clicked his tongue and said, “show off. Fine. Charlie has to have breakfast now, so come on.”

Lucifer ignored the way the demon's smile crinkled at the edges as he turned on his heel and marched to the kitchen.

It pinched the edge of his mind to see just how destroyed the place was. Various toys, baby contraptions, clothes, and uneaten food littered the place.

It also smelled vaguely like baby powder and oil, and Lucifer himself probably looked like an actual disaster with how his hair was unkempt and he hadn't changed his clothes in three days, but he was too tired to care as he stepped over a mountain of stuffed animals.

The kitchen was no less of a messy tornado than the living room, but at least the high-top was clean.

Lucifer cooed to his daughter as she kicked her legs and squealed in delight when he lifted her into the air and kissed her bare belly, distracting her from destroying yet another piece of furniture.

“She doesn't like sitting,” Lucifer sing-songed, keeping his voice as high-pitched and sweet as possible while slowly starting to lower her into the cushion of the chair. “But as long as you keep her distracted, she can do it with minimum fuss! Right, Charlie? Right, starshine? My wonderful wittie bittie girl, look how good you are!”

Lucifer let out a huge, admittedly rather relieved sigh when she let her chubby legs stick through the opening of the high-too while she bashed her tiny fists onto the table. She only made small, little displeased noises when he tied a bib around her neck and she blew a raspberry, but that was it.

This was turning out to be a great morning, then.

“Go on,” Lucifer said, turning around and crossing his arms as he tried to look as intimidating as possible. It was then that he realized the demon was at least a foot taller than him; the audacity! “Feed her. That's your second question; if you really want this job, you should know how to take care of a baby.”

“Hmm,” the demon hummed. He didn't seem at all perturbed by the hostility nor the near harassment of demands, and he merely waltzed over to the fridge, opening it and bending at the waist to observe what was inside.

After only a moment of looking, he reached in and grabbed several apples, all bright red and crisp. He took care to avoid any of the ones with spots on them, Lucifer realized, and the demon whistled a cheery tune as he juggled four apples easily and then threw them all up at once.

He snapped his fingers and a blender popped into existence, taking the fruits with ease and floating in the air as it blended them into a sauce.

“There,” he said, smug and satisfied as the blender poured out several mini jars of perfectly liquified apples. “Nutritious and well-processed to avoid any chunks.”

“Anyone can blend apples, smarta - smarty-pants,” Lucifer snapped. “I mean feed her. I don't give a shi - crud if you’re powerful and if you've read every single parenting book in the realm. If she doesn't like you, I’ll crush you here and now.”

That was the barest truth of all of this. Lucifer was the most powerful of them all, could destroy any single one of them into dust if he truly wanted, so what did it matter if this single demon was slightly stronger than average?

All demons had the potential to grow just as much as he had, but Lucifer didn’t give a flying rat's ass about that. It simply boiled down to if Charlie liked them.

He refused to have someone be her caretaker if she hated them. She needed love, warmth, compassion - all the things no regular demon could give. She deserved those things, and Lucifer had already given his whole heart to her, but he knew it wasn't enough.

For the first time since he got there, the demon hesitated. His smile waned only by a centimeter, but it was noticeable enough, and he eyed Charlie apprehensively.

After another second of contemplation, he approached her slowly, and Lucifer watched from only a few feet away, his wings threatening to burst out of his back from how tense he was.

He didn't know this demon, couldn't trust him as far as he could throw him, and if there was even the slightest chance that he would hurt Charlie, Lucifer had to intervene and make him eat his own intestines.

Luckily, the demon didn't do such a thing.

He set aside his microphone, leaning it against the counter, and he bent slightly so that he was eye-level with the baby.

Charlie gurgled, a noise of curiosity more than apprehension or fear, and she drooled a little as she stared at him and blinked in question when he curled a finger and a jar of applesauce floated towards him.

“Your Highness, although I know it must be very early in the morning for you, it's imperative to a young demon's health to eat well in order to grow and ascend to their rightful place,” the demon said. “In your case, it's your throne. It would be a tremendous help if you didn't make a fuss.”

Lucifer watched in bewilderment.

This man talked to his Charlie like she could understand a word that he just said. On good days, she could comprehend basic commands of no or stop , but that was the absolute limit.

She didn't even know what her hands were, or had any sort of object permanence! How could this stupid demon expect her to understand any of that?

But instead of flinging applesauce into his face like Lucifer expected, Charlie merely popped her lips, grumbled for a few seconds, and then opened her mouth obediently.

Lucifer's jaw dropped as the demon laughed from his throat.

“Well done, Princess,” the demon said, his eyes crescent-shaped from how pleased he was. He even spoon-fed her with his hand, not his magic, and he continued to speak like she was a grown woman instead of a baby who dribbled most of the applesauce down her chin and to her bib. “You are exceeding my expectations already. I have no doubt you will continue to do so.”

He hummed as she continued to eat, slowly making her way through the jar of fruit. Anytime some of the sauce spilled out of the corner of her lips, he patiently wiped it away with a summoned handkerchief, and he even allowed her to grip onto one of his fingers as he fed her.

Charlie loved grabbing things. It was her way of seeking comfort or validation when she was doing something new, and she had never eaten apples before this. She always loved to tug on Lucifer's hair or his clothes with an iron grip, but she seemed completely at ease as she licked at the spoon and smiled gummily at the demon when he tutted.

“Your Highness, etiquette is important to proper young ladies like yourself,” he said, but his voice was gentle and not admonishing as he rubbed at her cheek again with his napkin. She beamed at the touch and giggled. “Yes, yes. You are forgiven. Now, let's make sure you don't regret your breakfast, shall we?”

Before Lucifer even had a chance to say anything, the demon scooped Charlie up and out of her chair. Her legs kicked like she always did whenever she realized she was about to be carried, and she snuggled against his shoulder as he properly secured her to his chest and began patting her back.

He was burping her.

He had managed to feed her, soothe her, indulge her habit of grabbing things, and he was now burping her.

Lucifer felt like a puppet whose strings were just cut as he sagged suddenly against the counter and had to grip it tightly to make sure he didn't crumble to the ground.

For the first time ever since Charlie's birth, he had a moment of freedom, a moment to breathe, and he inhaled deeply as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and hysterically thought to himself that he now had a chance to shower.

“Demon,” he commanded as best as he could, but it really sounded like he was on the brink of toppling over as he continued to watch the pair.

“Hmm?” The demon replied, never stopping as he continued to pat Charlie's back while walking in a circle, bouncing slightly with each step so she wouldn't grow bored.

“Your name,” Lucifer said.

The demon grinned at him. It was a disturbing smile, really, and Lucifer had half the mind to wipe it off his smug little face for daring to look so triumphant, but he refrained.

After all, the demon seemed to understand the hidden meaning of his question, and when he spoke, his voice crackled at the edges of his pleasure as he bowed slightly and said, “Alastor.”

“Well, Alastor,” Lucifer said, hauling himself up to his feet and trying to blink away the spots in his eyes. “I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”

Alastor purred.

“I look forward to working with you, Your Majesty.”

#radioapple #appleradio #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #alastor #charlie morningstar #resist much obey little

96 notes · View notes

altraviolet · 4 months

Text

Ch 47 sneak peek 👀

Hello and happy winter* festivities** all!

*summer for southern hemisphere **normal day for those without festivities right now

I'm hoping to finish Ch 47 before 2024, but wanted to share a lil sneak peek! Everything below is subject to change, of course, but as of now Ch 47 will be told from Rodimus's point of view.

In case I don't see you again til 2024, wishing you all a very happy seasonally appropriate greeting! All the very best! Excerpt beneath the cut >D

Rodimus awoke in a tangle of tentacles. He stretched, careful to avoid scratching Soundwave's visor. “Mmmm.” He wiggled and settled down against the smooth protoform of Soundwave's body. Soundwave didn't stir.

The low hums and cyclical pumping of the Lost Light's utilities were louder here than in Rodimus's room, courtesy of the torn walls. The sheeny curtain had pulled back, revealing little crystals glowing faintly in their nooks and crannies. With soft metallic ssshhhks, Soundwave's tentacles repositioned themselves around Rodimus. They always moved so their cool sides coiled against him. Rodimus wasn't sure if they got too hot when touching him, or if they liked being warm and moved to distribute his heat evenly.

Rodimus traced a burned section of tentacle with a fingertip. Its metal was darkened and marred by tiny ripples. The segments were offset, preventing the tentacle from coiling properly. It bent into a soft corner. A rounded corner.

Rodimus snerked to himself.

It wasn't really a laughing matter. Rodimus gently pet the darkened metal. Its tiny ripples caught in the mechanisms of his palm. He'd dealt this damage. He felt bad about it. But... not guilty. Soundwave didn't deserve to be burned. But Rodimus wouldn't fault himself for his body's defenses.

Besides, Ratchet had a plan to fix it. They were gonna fix it, just like they'd fixed the holes in his chest, and they'd both be good as new.

"A virus.”

“Compassion.”

“I only want yours.”

Rodimus grinned to himself. No one had believed him when he'd said Soundwave would find his place. Hell, there were times when he barely believed it. But he'd done it. He, Rodimus, proud co-captain of the Lost Light, had shown this emotionally-starved, devastatingly loyal Decepticon there was another way. A better way. And now Soundwave was flourishing. He had friends, and a really weird but wonderful hobby, and tendrils that could leave a mech gasping in pleasure. And holy hell, Rodimus never would have thought that last thing was a thing, let alone it could be true, let alone he'd be the mech gasping.

“Preferred: Rodimus, happy.”

The grin faltered. Of course Rodimus was- well, he was happier. That was good. And of course his new bedmate would want him happy. That made total sense. That's what a good friend would want. What a lover would want.

What a lover would-

Rodimus wrenched himself from that train of thought. He scanned the room, desperate to distract himself. The desk was cluttered, projecting a dim data cascade in Soundwave's native cyphers. The makeshift shelves were crammed full of random tools and crystals. Bare wiring poked through in places, backdropped by shadowy pipes and conduits.

It was barely recognizable as Drift's room.

Maybe it never had been.

…

Oh, it had been. It definitely had been. And he'd been on this bed before, tangled up in limbs, feeling serene. Feeling at peace. Feeling like the mech beside him was a beacon, and for the first time since their initial jump, he could see where he wanted to go.

That bright and gentle feeling tightened in his chest.

No! Shut up! It's not happening again!

Rodimus knew he should get up for his own good. But his frame would not obey. He found himself burrowing harder into Soundwave, willing that cool body to shield him from those memories. Beat them away. Bury them. Better still, forge new ones. He wanted – he hated that he wanted – Soundwave woven into the fabric of his reality. Heavy in his arms and weighty against his plating. Too weird and wonderful to be washed away by the tides that pushed and pulled at Rodimus.

Soundwave stirred. His visor onlined with a flash. It displayed a rapid pulse. “Rodimus: agitation?”

Rodimus's field perked up out of habit, ready to push the concern aside. Dammit. Soundwave always knew when he was lying through his field. He didn't like it.

“False field express-”

“It was automatic. I didn't mean it.” Rodimus shoved the false cheer away. His true feelings seeped out. He couldn't hide them, but that didn't mean he had to explain them, either.

Soundwave's tentacles snapped up, tendrils sampling the air. “Rodimus: afraid? Danger in vicinity?”

“No,” said Rodimus. He parted the sheeny curtain and pushed himself off the bed. “Old thoughts. Don't worry about it.”

A tentacle wound around his arm. “Rodimus: needs...?”

“Breakfast.” Rodimus pulled away. The tentacle's biolights slid under his fingers, one by one. Blue light peeked between the bevels of his joints. “Why don't you sit with Nautica and Blaster today? We don't want people getting suspicious.”

The tentacle retreated. “Affirmative.”

Rodimus returned to his room via their secret door. He gave himself a big smile in the washroom mirror. A big, huge, totally happy smile accompanied by a forceful spoiler raise. Rodimus scrubbed faint, dark paint marks from his plating and polished his biolights. The glass of his body dulled when pressed against Soundwave's for hours. Rodimus didn't bother to wonder why. The explanation was always dimension stuff.

78 notes · View notes

bettyshoweduptotheparty · 5 months

Note

what was it like as a gaylor before 2016?

What an appropriate question on the 10 year anniversary of the kaylor public launch at the VSFS 2013 :) As it's quite a subjective question, prepare for my gaylor/kaylor origin story 😉

I've been a more committed Taylor fan since Red came out in 2012, but because I'm in the UK a lot of the public media buzz about her has passed me by (except for the headlines about her and Harry, that was definitely a big story over here). In spring 2013 the article about her and Dianna exploded on the internet and, despite it obviously being retracted, it perked my ears up because 1. I was also a big glee fan at the time, and 2. it seemed to offer an explanation to why I found her music so relatable having just had my heart broken by a girl and all her genderless breakup songs fit that situation so well. So, I did a bit of research and quickly realised that, if she was in fact with Dianna, it would have been at the same time that she was supposedly dating Harry, as well as that Kennedy guy. No public acknowledgement of any queerness (like ever) so it was very clear to me from the start that, if she is dating women, she is doing it very much in secret. Not a great inspiration for fairly newly out me (23 at the time), so I filed that information and moved on with just her music. Didn't really think about it again until over a year later when a guy in a club decided to bully me and my then gf with the sentence 'Are you a real couple or just bffs like Taylor Swift and that model chick?' Yep, my kaylor origin story is a straight man harassing me in a nightclub. What are the odds, right? 🤭

So, because that remark somehow stuck with me (and I had no idea who that ' model chick' even was) I googled it, expecting to find something similar to the Dianna situation and my jaw hit the floor when I got pages and pages of photos of Taylor and Karlie walking the streets of NYC holding hands, smiling at each other with the biggest heart eyes. It genuinely changed my life. It may sound totally stupid and out of proportion, given that they didn't acknowledge it as a relationship (which I'm aware was doing no favours to lesbian visibility), but it did something to me to see the girl whose music I'd danced to in my bedroom when I was 16 so happily in love with another girl. I'd never seen that sort of love between two women, either in fiction or in real life, and it felt like she'd reached across the miles dividing us to tell me that it's possible, and that if she could find it (even in hiding), I could, too. And somehow it didn't matter to me what they were calling it, I could see what it was and it was everything to me. But I only had a few months to enjoy it before kissgate ruined it and of course the tabloids printed words like 'affair' and ‘scandal' and by March the next year we had Calvin Harris, then Hiddleswift, and then Joe. But at the same time, we got 1989 and rep with some of the gayest music ever written. And I found a great community of fellow queer people on here in those years that seemed to enjoy watching them and seeing their lives in the lyrics as much as I did. I’ve dipped in and out of the online space for years, lurking when there were more kind people around and disappearing when the hate got worse. It was fun to watch it all unfold in real time with people, I’m impressed that people still become new kaylors these days when there is no real time interaction and the hate from the general fanbase towards Karlie is still high since 2018. I don’t think I would be a gaylor today if I hadn’t witnessed their love in front of everybody’s eyes in that year, that really made me resilient to setbacks because I’m just so irretrievably in love with their love story. I’ve seen how Taylor lashes out when she’s cornered and scared (like she did after kiss gate) and sometimes we’re the collateral damage of that. And as much as that sucks it just shows that she’s incredibly protective of her little bubble of happiness and the more you poke the bear the more savage she’ll be in her retaliation. Do I wish she didn’t throw her most loyal supporters off a cliff every time she needs a straight excuse? Of course! But have I also hurt people I care about to protect my loved ones? Yes. So I can’t really judge. I can just take a walk when it gets too much, and wait for the soft shit to pull me back in.

So, to summarise, being a gaylor has always (and will always) have highs and lows, the public narrative is never for us, only the music is. But that's ok with me, I've learned to tune the noise out and enjoy the music, reminding myself that those songs were inspired by one of the greatest love stories I've ever accidently stumbled upon.

#gaylor #kaylor #my kaylor origin story #anon ask

78 notes · View notes

the-possum-writes · 1 year

Note

can you do a marshall lee x male reader where he turns the reader into a vampire?

Vampire Bite

❥Character: Marshall Lee

❥Tags: sfw, established relationship, vampirism, comfort, male!reader

❥Synopsis: After sharing your human lifetime with Marshall Lee, you decided to take the next step in your relationship and seal the deal.

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards @foxpearlwilder

Marshall doesn't usually walk on land, but he's making an exception today as he pushes an elderly man in a wheelchair, the sun is still shining, and he's dressed appropriately in long gloves, a sunhat, and sunglasses.

"It's a beautiful day today, not a cloud in the sky." You smile tenderly as you take in the landscape around you.

"Yeah, we're fortunate." Marshall agrees, despite how vulnerable and exposed he feels, but he repeatedly tells himself that it's a special occasion.

He drives you down a wooden walkway that has deteriorated due to time and constant salty mist, but it is still stable enough to support your weight as he floats and pushes you instead. "Whoops," he says as the wheel collides with a rock. For a split second, you jump, readjusting yourself on the chair as your wrinkly hands fix the blanket on your lap.

"Wouldn't it be easier if you flew us there?" Marshall shakes his head when you bring it up.

"It's better this way; let's not rush it." he insists.

"If you say so." You drop the subject, taking his word for it, and enjoy the birds flying in the sunlight. The wooden walkway eventually turns into a dock, and you hear ocean waves crash against the wooden pillars; your eyesight has been failing you recently, but there's no denying the cool breeze against your skin and the enormous sun resting near the horizon.

"Marshall, look! We made it just in time!" As you point to the sunset, you jolt up excitedly, your voice gave out, and you soon found yourself coughing.

"I wouldn't want you to drown in your spit after walking you all the way here, so take it easy." He gives you a gentle pat on the back.

"That'd be a real bummer. Then again, Marsh, I do appreciate you doing this for me." Even though you have a few missing teeth, you give him a huge smile as your eyes squint up.

Marshall knows this is the same guy he fell in love with and refused to let go, no matter how many human years have passed and how much you have changed over the years. This fleeting mortality, though limited, is beautiful in his eyes, just as you are. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he says as he pats your shoulder. A kiss on the cheek would be more appropriate, but he doesn't want to get sunburned.

As the two of you reach the end of the dock, the vampire stops pushing your wheelchair and makes sure you're comfortable by plumping your pillow and covering you with your blanket. As he floats over your lap (to avoid hurting your legs), you extend your arms and hug him as if he were sitting on you. After that, the two of you don't say much, instead letting the sun hang loosely over the horizon as its last rays of sunlight reflect over the waves. A few minutes later, Marshall leaned into your shoulder, but when he felt your chest flutter, he turned to look at you and saw that you were quietly crying as the sun completely set.

"It's so pretty..." you mutter, sobbing softly.

"There's still time to go back," he says quietly, wiping your tears away with his cold gray fingertips.

You respond with a smile, rubbing your eyes. "I'm not changing my mind; I'm just glad to have shared my last sunset with you." With the sun gone, Marshall removed his hat and gloves to properly give you a comforting kiss on the lips, resting his forehead on yours as he says. "...I just want to give you the options I never had," he says, and you agree with him. The title of Vampire King was not something he chose, and what's to give you the opportunity to decline if you suddenly reconsidered.

But you made up your mind long ago.

"Will it hurt?" you ask, determined but nervously offering your neck to him.

"I'll try to make it quick... Like a hospital injection "He promises, softly kissing your neck.

"Glob, I hate injections." You huff, trying to relax.

"I know."

You jolt up in your seat as Marshall pierced your flesh and tried to keep you in place. Although it was quick, as Marshall said, your limbs gradually became cold, much like when your blanket fell off your bed in the winter. Sooner or later, your heart rate slows down, almost as if you're falling asleep. When you wake up, the world seems lighter; you're surprised to discover that this is because you're only a few feet off the ground, which causes you to panic. "Easy there, I got'cha!" You hear Marshall Lee's voice coming from the night sky and feel his hand grabbing your own.

Even though it's dark, you can see clearly without a light source, which is when you notice your hand's lack of wrinkles. Looking down at your body and touching your face to see how you unconsciously transformed yourself back to when you were the most comfortable in your mid 20's, no longer tired or with sore knees.

"I feel like I'm going to fly away like a balloon!" You sob, clutching Marshall like a lifeline.

Marshall's chest vibrates in laughter, securing you in his arms. "Relax, I'm a good teacher. I'll show you everything about being a vampire, for free." he winks.

"Are you sure? I'm a slow learner." you jest.

"Oh I'm sure, more than ever!"

#adventure time x reader #marshall lee x reader #marshall lee the vampire king #reader insert #male!reader

309 notes · View notes

jamilelucato · 2 years

Note

smut henry creel please?

A Match Made in Lab

show: Stranger Things (season 4 spoilers)

pairing: 002!reader x Henry Creel/Vecna/001

summary: when you and Henry escape on the 4th of July and things happen to be a bit... romantic.

a/n: maybe this isn't as smut as you expected, sorry, but it is what I can do as I am a very shy person (I swear!); for those of you who are asking for this fic part 2 stay tuned because it's coming!

tag list: @perssepeony

You were friends. After all, there wasn't much choice for a friendship when you grew up in a lab with only a boy your age and a bunch of scientists. Yes, yes, they hid your existence and gave your number to somebody else, but they did that later because in 1964 Henry Creel was number 001 and you, [y/n] [y/l/n], were number 002, the only subjects in Hawkins National Laboratory.

“So,” he whispered when you two were together doing some recreational activities in the room that later on would be painted and called “the rainbow room”. “I have a plan.”

You looked around, but the guards were too far, close to the doors and the cameras weren't able to catch sound back then.

“Tell me more.”

He smiled beautifully. His hair was growing back again, slower than yours because they kept trying to shave him every month. But you, after four years of tests and buzzcuts, they decided to allow you some growth, at least to the shoulders. Henry had heard some of the female scientists claiming for you, something about “allowing a girl her femininity”.

There was no need for femininity in the lab, you thought but there was no use in saying it.

“I think we can… through the vents,” he said, explaining a plan you two had been trying to achieve from the moment you realized you were allies and not enemies. The word he was not saying was “escape” because if anyone there heard it, you and Henry would be dead.

And so he kept the explanation going, but he only used chess metaphors, for it would be easier to hide the truth.

The next day, you went on as normal, being the perfect children for the doctors. The secret was that at midnight, when security was reduced and the scientists were home, you two would be escaping through a secret passageway Henry had found.

There were flaws to the plan of course. A security guard could not stop you — they were there for the outsiders mostly — but a late-night doctor could if they were fast enough to see you two. Besides, someone would enter your rooms at one a.m. and the alarm would be sounded. So, you two had to be fast all of the time. And the powers needed to be on point because they were your only weapon.

But all your worries didn't matter. Once Henry’s hands were holding yours, nothing could stop you and soon you were out. Out.

In the dark, sure, but still out.

“We did it,” you whispered, for you were still afraid.

Henry looked at you, focusing on your eyes and you felt your hand being squeezed.

But there wasn't much time for nice touches. He said he had used his mind powers to map out the territory, but he wasn't very bright at it, not as good as you, so it took you some time to grasp the reality surrounding and find the best way to civilisation.

“There,” he said, pointing at a gas station. “We'll need to get some clothes if we want to head to town.”

You agreed with him. The store had only one worker, so it was easy to knock him out and get what you two wanted. Henry found himself a white t-shirt and a pair of khaki pants while you got a black white-dotted dress just tight enough.

Once you had finished changing, you handed Henry your gown which he burned, so it could be left with no proof.

“The dress looks nice on you,” he said, looking you up and down. You felt your cheeks turn red. It was a weird feeling.

You had read about it, before the lab and even when in the lab. They allowed you some books, not any title — it had to be approved and “appropriate” — and not all but most of the readings mentioned love. In autobiographies, the scientists would always happily marry a pretty lady and in the fictional ones, the protagonists always had a romantic interest. It was love, they called it. Magical, unique and beautiful.

But when stuck at the lab it never felt like that could happen to you. Of course, Henry was there, and he cheered you up just enough to survive, but the place wasn't a romantic one. Besides, you feared he did not know what love was. He always mocked your readings and had no interest in them, and he lived in the outside world even less than you had. He got in the lab in 1959 and you in 1960.

He reached for your hand as you made your way out of the gas station and headed to Hawkins. It was a long walk but you two managed because of adrenaline, excitement and the chance to have real unsupervised conversations.

“Look,” you said, “the city looks bright for midnight.”

Henry looked straight ahead, seeing the town that suddenly appeared and it indeed looked rather lighter.

“Perhaps today is a festival?”

Your question remained unanswered until you two reached downtown, where the party was loud and full. You even felt undressed compared to all the men and women, fancily dressed.

“Fourth of July,” pointed out Henry, answering your question as he looked at the big flag being waved by a white man of large bones.

You knew when you were younger your parents used to celebrate it, but there was no memory of the happiness you were seeing (and suddenly feeling as well) around.

“Come on,” he tightened his grasp in your left hand, “let’s get some hotdogs before they stop selling them.”

“Henry,” you couldn’t help but smile. “We have no money.”

“No, but we have you,” he smiled too. “And who’s best at implementing memories in people’s minds?”

Again, your cheeks reddened.

“I mean, it’s not like I have competition,” you said, jokingly for he had been practising the arts of the mind as well but he was not half as good as you.

He pretended to be offended but laughed it off.

The night was like that: funny and silly moments of you two, while you watched the whole of Hawkins celebrations and sooner than you’d like, people were going back to their homes and most of the lights were out.

“We should get out of here now,” Henry said, getting up from the sidewalk where you two were sitting. “The lights are out and now we’re easily found.”

You stared down at your feet. You were so tired. After putting the guards to sleep and having to do so much walking, your legs hurt and so did your mind. You looked up again, back at Henry, with pity eyes.

“Can’t we find a place to stay? For the night?”

He wasn’t gonna say yes. It was dangerous and reckless. At that hour of almost dawn, the alarm was probably already on and people probably were hunting them down, he was sure. But he understood her point and he only wanted to make her happy.

Henry knew he didn’t deserve to get out of the lab and he was fine staying there, but you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve the life of a rat.

“Ok,” he sighed. “But it has to be a quick sleep. Four hours top.”

You agreed with a nod and grabbed his hand. You knew he would find a place for you to stay so you just let him do the job. He liked to use his powers, way more than you.

When the place was found, both of you had to settle down on a bed made of cardboard and some torn cloth, as it was the only thing available in the back of a practically abandoned factory.

You turned from side to side, unable to close your eyes. Even if the discomfort was great, it wasn’t the lack of a pillow that kept you awake.

It was him.

Henry was your best and only friend, so you guys used to hang out in the lab together, but everything looked different outside of it. There, on the cardboard bed, he was no longer 001 and you were no longer 002. Somehow, the dynamic seemed to be that of a boy and a girl, and at least your hormones seemed to be in full bloom.

You turned around to face him. Even though his eyes were closed, you knew he wasn’t sleeping. His back was against the weathered wall of the factory, and he was leaning his head forward. He looked like he was sleeping, but you were smarter than that.

“Henry?” you whispered.

He opened his eyes in your direction.

“Sleep, [y/n].”

You pressed your lips together and didn’t respond. But you didn’t sleep either.

“Just say it,” he said, sighing. “Say what you want to say, [y/n].”

“It’s actually something I wanna do,” you said, getting your back up from the floor. “I saw a couple doing it and… and I wanted to test it.”

“It’s not dancing, is it? I’m not going to dance right now,” Henry said, in a serious tone, but you knew he was joking.

You looked at him through your eyebrows, a look of compassion, but also of seduction, or at least, that’s how you felt when you faced him before doing what you wanted and feared.

Henry swallowed hard. Nothing in his body indicated that he knew what you were about to do—after all, he didn’t open his arms to wait for you—but perhaps something natural and instinctive asked him to stay alert. He looked at you, his brows furrowed and his lips slightly parted.

You took a deep breath before pushing yourself forward and touching your lips to his. You’ve never done this before, and perhaps you both never would’ve if you hadn’t escaped the lab.

It was just a brush of lips, an invitation. Then you pulled away, lowering your gaze to your lap. In yourself, a feeling of accomplishment but also of shame. What if he didn’t want that? What if it had been horrible for him?

“I don’t…” you started to say, but you didn’t have the chance to finish, because Henry’s lips had come back to meet yours; this time with more passion, more desire and more force.

He was pressing all of him against you, and from then on everything seemed to happen driven by lust and instinct. You didn’t really know what you were doing, as it was both his and your first time and you didn’t have access to much of that content.

It certainly shouldn’t look pretty to an outsider, but it was incredible to Henry, who felt a tightening of pleasure from his lips to his legs, almost electrifying. It’s better than good, you thought, as he nibbled on your lip, forcing you to open them. His tongue slowly entered your mouth, searching for your own tongue.

Needing some support, your hands reached for the back of Henry's neck, and stayed there, as your fingers tangled in his blond hair, which grew soft.

Both of your breaths were heavy and you both needed a few seconds apart to recover. Somehow, even though you were exasperated, you weren't tired — on the contrary, you were awake; your whole body and hair were.

The kisses and caresses continued, and you tested a kiss on each other’s neck, a caress beyond the bend of the waist. It was no longer cold, and suddenly you were overcome by the need to remove your clothes. The little skin that was in contact was insufficient for the size of the desire you both felt. You just knew you needed more.

“I need you to kiss me,” you told him breathlessly.

He smiled, pulling away from the crook of her neck. “I’m kissing you,” he said.

“Yes, but…” you sighed, mortified. “I need you to kiss me somewhere else.”

Henry looked up to meet his, and he frowned.

“A bit… lower,” you cleared your throat.

He smirked and obeyed, lowering his lips to your cleavage and after a few sighs of yours, he lowered even more. But he didn’t stop at your belly. Oh, no. Now that the dress was gone, he kissed you in a secret place, one that only the female doctors (and yourself) had seen before.

It just felt natural.

Your hand reached for his member, a part of him that your anatomy lessons at the lab were not enough to teach you the power it had. It was different from the few things they shared. It was hard and big, and well, very interesting to look at. You just wanted to touch and when you did it, Henry let out a groan.

“What are you doing?” he asked, but there was no anger in his voice. He seemed to be hanging by a thread.

“I’m touching you,” you answered, biting your lip.

“You don’t have to just because I’m kissing you,” he said.

Oh, you thought; maybe he did know more about “this” than you. Had he been reading different books? Were the scientists teaching him different things they were teaching you just because he was a boy?

Or had he learned that with his father, back when he was just 11 and a good family boy?

“I want to,” you said, hardening your grasp on his member.

He gulped. “Okay,” he let out, before closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

You didn’t do much, for you didn’t know how to do much.

At some point, you felt very open, both bodily and mentally, so you just asked him, “Henry? There’s more than this, isn’t there?”

He stared at you. “Yes.”

You liked him because he never lied to you.

“Can you show me?”

“I’ve never done it before,” he said. “I haven’t even kissed anyone before. You are my first, [y/n], you know that, right?”

You nodded.

“I can do it, but it might hurt you. It was what I learned in bio class anyway.”

You tilted your head. “So we had separated lessons.”

He smiled, with pity. he knew you liked to learn. “They said they weren’t classes for the ladies.”

You rolled your eyes, jokingly, and he giggled, hiding his face at the crook of your neck. You passed your hands through his hair.

“Now?” you suggested, in a whisper filled with desire.

His hands were everywhere, his fingers on your skin, his leg nudging its way between yours. He was pulling you closer, rolling you on top of him as he slid onto his back. His hands were on your bottom, drawing you so tightly against him that the proof of his desire burned itself into your skin. You gasped at the intimacy of it all, but you couldn’t do much because his lips were back kissing yours.

His mouth moved to your ear, then to your throat, and you arched beneath him as if you could somehow curve your body closer to his. There wasn’t a manual available, so you were kind of lost in what to do, but there was no way you could have remained motionless, no way you could have stopped your legs from wrapping around his. Whatever this was, building inside of you —this tension, this desire—it needed release, and you were starting to grow impatient for the moment. You wondered if it was the same for Henry.

He pushed forward, just an inch or so, but it felt like you were swallowing him whole. Henry’s hips began to move, unable to remain still when he was so obviously near to a climax. You looked like an angel beneath him, and every time you grasped and gasped, he felt closer to heaven, even if he did not deserve it. He finally let himself go and gave in to the overwhelming desire surging through his blood.

“You are beautiful, [y/n],” he whispered as if only then he recalled he could speak.

You smiled.

And then it came. A sound from your lips, sweeter than anything ever to touch his ears. You cried out his name as your entire body tensed in pleasure, and he came right after, for you two were such a match that it didn’t even need to be rehearsed.

“It didn’t hurt,” you said, suddenly overwhelmed. “It was good.”

He smiled.

“It was good for me too.”

For a minute there was silence, and neither of you spoke, for your chests were rising and falling too fast, and the bliss of being in each other’s arms was enough.

You didn’t even realise when you fell asleep until you woke up.

You were in his arms, but it was easy to get up. Your heart raced as it realised what was happening. There were lights everywhere, and even though there was nobody over you, you felt like you were surrounded.

“Henry,” you nudged him. “Henry, wake up.”

But he didn’t hear you.

“Henry, wake up!”

You pushed him.

“Come on, Henry now’s not the time.”

When you heard sounds — people, probably your doctors coming closer — you decided to use your powers on his mind, to see if you could wake him up from his subconscious.

“Wake up, Henry, please,” you prayed, but there was no reply. He wasn’t dead, you could feel his heart and breath, but for some reason, he could not wake up. Had he been using his powers to cover you two before he fell asleep? That could explain his tiredness and inability to wake.

Deciding he wasn’t gonna wake up, you tried to get him up with your own strength, but you were never much strong. Neither of you was. You tried, oh, God, you tried, but he didn’t wake and he didn’t move.

You grasped your dress. It was too late to come up with a plan. You could hear Dr Brenner loud and clear. if you escaped alone, maybe you could make it.“I love you, Henry,” you whispered in his mind and then you left, running for your life and your freedom.

#jamie campbell bower #henry creel #vecna #stranger things #stranger things fic #henry creel x reader #peter ballard x reader #Peter ballard #vecna x reader #fanfic #smut #Peter ballard smut #Henry creel smut #001 #001 x reader #number 001

2K notes · View notes

demonicbaby666 · 1 year

Note

Drabble idea - JJ talking care of reader while she is sick 🤒 just all the fluff and feelings 🥰

Sniffles

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1.3k+

A/N: Thanks for the req nonny, hope I provided you with the fluff you wanted. It's written more comically and is a little too long to count as Drabble, but what can I say, I got a little carried away with the banter. Hope you enjoy! 💜

Hell. That was the only way to describe what your body was putting you through. Head pounding, nose stuffed with tissue and a throat that fell victim to a brutal attack of never-ending coughs, trying hopelessly to get whatever felt like it was stuck in there out.

You’d taken refuge on the sofa that morning, knowing if you went back to bed, there was a high possibility you may never make it out again. Though the idea of withering away and meeting your final demise sounded tempting, someone would probably miss you.

At what point you fell asleep to the tv playing reruns of god knows how many shows, you had no idea. All you knew was there was a muffled ringing coming not just from inside your ears, but from somewhere in the apartment. The door.

Heavily considering, far longer than appropriate, army crawling to the door, you settled on unceremoniously flinging your frail body upright, trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to ignore the black spots that painted your vision. As you trudged over to the door you made a silent promise to yourself, if the disturber of your peace fell short of a good enough reason for ringing your doorbell when you were on death's door, you’d subject them to the very same torment you were going through. One cough, maybe a little sneeze would do the trick, it was only fair.

“I swear, if you’ve lost your cat again Phil, I’ll-” you croaked out, latching onto the door handle - which would require sanitizing now, great - and pulled it open.

“No missing cats,” JJ chuckled, continuing in a hushed tone, “though I am curious, what exactly were you planning on doing?”

Nope. Not happening.

Mirrors, unfortunately, very much existed, which was why you sure as hell knew you were one sight to behold. A neighbour seeing you in a heavily stained dressing gown, hair thrown into a messy bun, and not the cute kind, that'd be fine, normal even. Well, you’d like to think normally you didn’t look like someone who’d contracted some type of bug, but JJ seeing you like this. Very much not the same. So, you did the only thing you could.

You shut the door in her face.

“You’ll get sick.” You shouted, your voice sounding far too similar to that of a dying pelican, or any dying creature for that matter.

“Number one. You’re letting me in because I’m your girlfriend and it’s my legal obligation to look after you. Number two. I know how to break down a door. Number three. If you don’t let me in, I will break down your door.”

“You gave me three points that were not relevant to what I said. You’ll. Get. Sick.”

“Sorry, let me try again. Number one, you have ten seconds to open the door before I kick it down. How was that babe?” For someone stuck on the other side of a door, waiting to take care of a walking germ factory, it was quite astonishing to hear how peppy JJ was.

Well; it was decided. It seemed there wasn’t ample room for negotiation, your front door’s life hanging in the balance and all. Knowing she wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, you hesitantly re-opened the door, peeking your head into the small open space. “If you could avoid looking at my face, that would be amazing.”

“Oh shush, I’ve been face to face with a rotting corpse, more than once.” She stepped forward, foot pressing the door more and more ajar until there was enough space for her to slip in, during which you slugged back to the sofa and threw a blanket over your head.

“I’m not sure that was as comforting or reassuring as you wanted it to be.” It was true, comparing one’s likeness to a dead body wasn’t exactly flattering, in fairness, it may have been accurate; nevertheless, it remained a deflating thought.

JJ took her shoes and coat off, knowing where to put them, then walked over to join you, “Show me that face of yours.” She teased, pulling at the blanket. There she sat, next to you - looking stunning as ever - trying to rip away the one shred of dignity you had left. In your books, it seemed a direct declaration of war.

“Would you stop that!” You pleaded. Too disoriented from the journey to the door and back, there was little fight left in you, making it too easy for the blonde to yank your fortress out of your weak grip, taking the single morsel of pride you had left with it to the floor.

“There she is!” She beamed.

“I don’t think I like you anymore.” It was the fact your sulking face reached only her chest, warming it with pure adoration, that JJ remained impartial to the comment. Finding it more amusing than hurtful.

“Well, that’s a shame, because I still like you and I’m not going anywhere. Guess you’ll just have to suffer in silence. Though, knowing you, you always have something to say.” She poked.

Disregarding the bantering jab, a traitorous smile crept onto your lips. The sight of your dishevelled face led you to believe JJ would run for the hills. She didn’t. In fact, she’d taken it upon herself, in her own way, to reassure you she felt the opposite. The declaration stunning you into silence, involuntarily gawking.

“Are you going to let me look after you now?” She asked, trying not to laugh at the expression written all over your face. “If I get sick, you’ll just have to repay the favour and look after me.”

“Then I’ll get sick again.”

“We’ll be in an endless loop of domestic bliss then, won’t we?”

“Sounds heavenly.” You sardonically quibbed, earning yourself a swift elbow to the ribs. For dramatic effect, you let out a loud groan, which by no means did JJ buy, “There’s got to be a rule against that.” rubbing your ‘injured’ side.

“I didn’t read the new edition of the ‘How to Look After Your Sick Girlfriend’ handbook, I go by the old rules.” She humoured, thinking it was quite a good comeback. Which it was, but she couldn’t know that. “It did mention something about snuggling up on the sofa though.”

Now that was a comeback that warranted appraisal. Unfortunately, in this case, appraisal came in the form of two flushed cheeks and a timid smile, both of which JJ, kindly, chose not to mention. Out-stretched arms guided you down, welcoming you into an embrace you swore had magical healing abilities.

There was a slim chance of smelling anything – what with having a blocked nasal cavity - yet the sweet aroma of JJ’s hair made it through, whether it was a phantom smell, you didn’t care. Not when slender fingers worked on unbinding your tousled hair, running gentle strokes through stubborn knots that unfurled under her touch, much like you did.

“You know you didn’t have to come?” The question came from a place of doubt, had the roles been reversed, you knew with certainty, you’d be doing the exact same. Regrettably, logic did nothing to cease your insecurities.

“In sickness and in health, right?” she softly said, smiling down with so much devolution in her eyes you found yourself battling tears.

“If you so much as think about proposing to me when I’m in this state, so help me JJ. I will sneeze so hard on you; you won’t see the light of day for weeks.”

Putting her hands up in mock surrender, “I’ll save the love declaration for another day as well then.”

But she didn’t. As she diligently re-convened her girlfriend duties, lulling you into a state of tranquillity Buddha would be envious of, rendering your headache near gone, three joyous words didn’t escape your grasps.

Your eyes fluttered shut; safe in JJ’s arms, a declaration of your own filled the comfortable silence. “I love you too.”

Tags: @criminallyobsessedcm @aws-l @babygirlscout | click here to be added to my taglist

#Jennifer Jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau x you #Jennifer Jareau imagine #Criminal Minds #jj x reader #jennifer jareau #WLW #jennifer jj jareau #lgbt #cm #Jennifer jareau x y/n #Jennifer Jareau fluff #Jennifer Jareau comfort

203 notes · View notes

trigun-manga-overhaul · 11 months

Note

Hello! "I wanted to see tomorrow with him" is a pretty popular line from the manga, and after seeing translations of it in different languages (The Dark Horse English tl ("share my tomorrows with him"), the official French tl ("share a peaceful future with this man"), and the official Korean tl ("share my blank ticket with him") are vastly different but all use the word 'share', which I find interesting) I would love to know more about your translation process for it. Thank you so much for your hard work!

Hey there and thank you for the question!

It is always super interesting how various translators interpret text, even changing it a bit of the text to flow better in the language it's translated into. We've something along slightly similar lines, however I would none of the translations you've mentioned are bad ones, as they all relay the same information.

I am particularly liking the Korean one with "Share my blank ticket with him."

The word used in Japanese is "明日, Ashita", which means tomorrow or future, which means anything including either is correct and all coming down to a matter of the translator's personal preference.

The other active word is "分かち, Wakachi" to share or divide, which all the other translations are using, and again, is also entirely correct. We decided to use "see" in Overhaul because the "tomorrow" is singular and the line felt clunky being "I wanted to share tomorrow with this man."

Since seeing something together is also to share it together, the team agreed upon the usage of "see" instead of "share" for the flow of it. We consulted our Japanese speaking contacts about the line and they gave the translation the green light, saying that the intended tone and meaning remained the same.

Translation is, in the end, both a science and an art, it has objective, concrete aspects, but also subjective, interpretive aspects. Especially with a context heavy language like Japanese, sometimes the word used in Japanese won't have the same tone in English, even if it is the correct translation, and that's when a new and more appropriate word is chosen.

Basically, translating Japanese is complicated, as the language has different informative systems to indicate tone, mood, rank, and even personality, etc.

#answers

164 notes · View notes

skepsiss · 6 months

Text

His People. Chapter 2: Like. Lust. Love

No one asked for this, but the idea wouldn't get out of my brain so I wrote it. I need to take a break tho but don't want to leave this without sharing. It's almost 3,000 words, so breaking it up into part 3 should be fine.

Lil' Monster Eddie. In the first chapter we see how Eddie has come back as something less than human. He doesn't have his memories and he is struggling a lot to interact with people "appropriately." In this chapter, Steve and Eddie are spending one on one time together and Eddie might... get a little carried away.

Chapter 1

Rate: T CW: Slight non-con/con, mention of gore, memory loss, miscommunication.

They were seated on the bed in Steve’s room, the smells and warmth almost oppressive. Everything smelt like Steve with a tinge of chemicals behind it. Clean. Eddie liked it. He liked the differences even if it was a lot, and he got used to it soon enough.

Eddie was stretched and lounging with his arm under his head and his chest to the mattress, flipping through one of Steve’s magazines. He found them fascinating, even if he didn’t really care for the subject matter. It was more the high gloss images and the way the men and women were positioned across the page. How he’d flip a page and there would be a wall of text, but wedged in beside it would be a man holding a baseball bat, the words perfectly blocked out around him. He liked them a lot and Steve had been kind enough to invite him over so he could look through his collection.

Steve himself was seated with his back to the headboard, his legs stretched out so his feet were near Eddie’s head. He was reading one of the magazines, not flipping through the images nearly as quickly as Eddie was. Steve was reading and considering the page while Eddie watched his brows pinch in or raise with interest every once and a while. Expressive. He was taking his time to move from page to page and Eddie wondered if the subject matter was really all that intriguing, staring unabashedly at him.

Eddie liked looking at Steve.

He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he’d stare sometimes at Steve and feel at peace looking at him. It was different from how he felt when he looked at the rest of the party. He felt possessive of all of them–protective and soft–but Steve was different. It was as if he had a calming presence to him. It felt the opposite compared to how Eddie felt after he ate. How he’d feel energetic and moody as if he was excited in the most destructive way possible. But around Steve, it was the opposite.

Eddie didn’t remember a lot about Steve.

He could remember Dustin–Henderson, as he was supposed to call him–and shared many memories with him. He remembered the band and he was often charmed by the memories that randomly popped up when he was around them. He could remember Mike, Lucas, Erica–he remembered a lot of them, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember anything about Steve.

He wanted to be around Steve though, he liked it, and he liked it when Steve looked at him too.

Steve must have felt his eyes on him because he glanced up from the magazine and looked at Eddie.

Eddie smiled, keeping his mouth shut so his teeth wouldn’t show, but still wanting to express his joy in Steve looking at him.

“What?” Steve chuckled, flipping the page of his magazine as he smiled back at Eddie.

“I like watching you. You look nice,” Eddie complimented as a means to explain why he was staring.

“Uh… thanks,” Steve replied, the hesitation in his voice obvious before he looked back down at the page.

Eddie blinked at him and slowly sat up, feeling a little anxious all of a sudden.

“Is that weird?” he asked, uncertain. He hadn’t really nailed this whole… social interaction thing. He’d often overstep or overshare and someone would have to explain why to him. He was learning all the rules slowly, but it was a lot to keep track of.

People liked compliments. Saying them was fine, right? Was calling Steve ‘nice’ not appropriate?

“A little,” Steve replied to Eddie’s question, but he sounded good-humored even if there was a bit of awkwardness in his tone. “You’re not supposed to say that stuff out loud.”

Eddie frowned, not really understanding what he meant by that. He had to keep it to himself? That didn’t seem fair.

Steve must have caught on to Eddie’s confusion because he looked up from his magazine again before sighing lightly through his nose.

“You shouldn’t really say ‘I like looking at you,’ a lot of people find that creepy,” Steve explained, pressing his lips together.

“Oh,” Eddie answered, feeling badly, “did I creep you out?”

“It’s fine, just be careful who you say that stuff to.”

Eddie nodded and sat back with his legs crossed, trying to commit the ‘taboo’ to memory.

“Was the compliment okay?” Eddie asked, feeling like he needed the clarification.

“Uh… sure,” Steve replied, hesitating before trying to explain better. “Guys don’t really… say that stuff to each other.”

“Oh… why not?” Eddie asked, feeling like he was being annoying. Steve’s face was turning a bit red and Eddie didn’t really understand why.

“You just… don’t?” Steve frowned, obviously flushed, “you save it for… someone you like.”

“I like you,” Eddie replied quickly, not wanting Steve to think he disliked him for some reason, especially not when Eddie wanted to be around him so badly.

“No, Eddie,” Steve sighed, sounding a bit exasperated, “not like that. Not like how you like Mike, or Dustin, or Nancy or someone. It’s different, you like them differently.”

Eddie frowned, not really understanding what Steve meant by that. There were different levels to liking someone? He supposed that made sense. He had felt a difference between people when he was around them. He felt differently when he was with Nancy compared to Mike. He liked being around Mike more, but he liked Nancy fine; he wanted to listen to her and didn’t feel as resistant to doing the things she asked compared to Mike. He liked them both, but he couldn’t really compare the two of them–but they were still nothing like Steve.

“I like you different,” Eddie explained, shifting onto all fours to crawl up toward the headboard where Steve was sitting. “Different from everyone else.”

Steve frowned deeper and Eddie tilted his head with curiosity at that. Why wouldn’t Steve want to be told he was liked?

“I mean, how you’d like a girl,” Steve tried to explain, shifting one of his legs so it was tucked up closer to his chest.

“A girl?” Eddie asked, continuing his ascent up the bed before kneeling by Steve’s hip.

Out of all the girls he knew, he didn’t feel any specific way about them. He liked Robin, he liked Nancy, he liked Max and the mothers of the people he knew, but nothing specific stuck out to him about them. “So… I’m supposed to tell Robin that she looks nice?” He asked, not thinking that compliment was untrue, but he had never felt compelled to tell her something like that.

“No, not Robin,” Steve sighed and Eddie watched as he shifted away ever so slightly, the motions almost imperceptible. Steve wasn’t looking at him anymore and Eddie felt a pit form in his stomach because of that. He wanted Steve to look at him, he liked that better.

“I like you more than girls,” Eddie offered as an explanation, “look at me…”

He could see red breaking out across Steve’s face, making his freckles look darker and the lines in his face look softer. Eddie had never seen something like that before, red….

He reached for Steve slowly, wanting to see him properly as Steve lulled his head a bit back in Eddie’s direction.

“It’s a different kind of–” he began saying, stopping when Eddie held his cheeks. His face got redder and Eddie felt his eyes go a bit wide as he felt how warm Steve was under his touch. It was different than other times–then when he’d touched Robin’s face to retrieve a loose eyelash or poke fun at Dustin. He was so warm.

Eddie felt his breathing get a bit heavier and his pulse pick up, the feeling a muddled mixture of how he felt after he ate and how he felt just being around Steve. It made his eyelids droop and his skin prickle, his mind reeling as it started to connect dots.

He could… remember something. It was ephemeral and hazy, different from how he usually remembered things, but it was there. He could see it in his mind, especially as his gaze shifted to look Steve in the eyes.

He’d done this before. He’d held Steve like this. He could see it–he could see them–the two of them pressed against one another, the vague outline of Steve’s body in a dark room. The thrill and excitement of wrapping his arm around Steve and feeling him tug his hair. His body–their bodies–unclothed as Eddie touched him. He could remember Steve’s face being red just like this and he could remember kissing him. Oh… he wanted to kiss Steve.

“I remember…” Eddie said quietly, the sound of his own voice odd to his ears.

Steve was staring at him, not moving, and Eddie could hear the sound of his heartbeat pounding away in his chest. He wasn’t scared, but there was some kind of emotion there that Eddie didn’t understand. He couldn’t really focus on that though, his body felt electric with these memories, with how dreamy they made him feel.

Like. Lust. Love. He didn’t really know, but he understood those words–had them in his brain all of a sudden. Steve was different… very different.

Without delaying anymore, Eddie closed the distance between them, kissing Steve on the lips and feeling him recoil slightly in his hold.

“Eddie–” Steve sputtered slightly, his hands going to Eddie’s shoulders.

“It’s okay,” Eddie breathed, kissing him again, licking his bottom lip, “my teeth–it won’t… it’s okay.”

He wouldn’t hurt Steve, he never would, and he knew unless he bit down Steve didn’t have anything to worry about.

He leaned in closer, pushing his tongue into Steve’s mouth and feeling his stomach clench at the sensation. He’d done this before. He’d felt this before. It was so familiar; he knew what he was doing without having to think about it.

He was shifting closer to Steve, moving so he could almost lay on his chest as he sat against the headboard, feeling so at peace and so excited at the same time.

“No–Ed–” Steve started to say between kisses, his hands still on Eddie’s shoulders.

“It’s okay,” Eddie reassured again, letting his hand drop to Steve’s waist and brush up and under his shirt, feeling the roughness of his skin.

Steve squirmed, his own hand dropping to Eddie’s wrist to hold it.

Another memory filtered through Eddie’s mind, one that felt sharper and tinged with fear and sorrow. He could remember Steve getting hurt and he could remember how scared he had been to see Steve like that. The blood and the gore of it all. How he had wanted to comfort Steve and kiss him as they walked through the forest together. He had wanted Steve to be okay. To take care of him.

“Does it hurt still?” Eddie asked quietly against Steve’s lips, raising his hand away from the rough skin, afraid that he wasn’t healed enough to be touched there.

“What? No, Eddie–” Steve replied and Eddie kissed him again, glad to hear that as he brushed his thumb over Steve’s stomach. He loved the feeling of Steve’s stomach: the softness of his hair, and the smooth skin underneath that made way for raised, rough patches of scars.

“That’s good,” Eddie mumbled into the kiss, his eyes already closed without realizing it. Steve was still squirming under him though, restless and energetic.

Steve had been right. Liking someone was different than liking someone and Eddie wanted to reassure him that it was the latter. He couldn’t say he lusted him, so Eddie scraped his brain for the phrase he needed to express his feelings.

“I want you,” Eddie breathed, the phrase sounding appropriate enough as if it communicated the right feeling.

“I like you–different,” he tried to speak between kisses–between having his tongue as deep as it would go into Steve’s mouth–as he easily moved against Steve’s hold. “I want you… I wanted you… I remember… I wanted you when you got hurt, I wanted you.”

Steve’s squirming lessened slightly and Eddie shifted closer, letting his legs splay out behind him so he could hook his knee around Steve’s leg.

“You were–” Eddie breathed, breaking the kiss, but continuing to hold Steve’s face so they were nose to nose, “--nice to look at… then too. I thought you were nice to look at.”

He remembered giving Steve his vest and how he had thought he looked good like that. How he was bloody and bruised, filthy and wet, but Eddie had wanted him so badly. He had settled for looking at him and he had thought he looked amazing. Badass. He liked Steve.

Steve was frozen in his hold as Eddie stared at him, breathing against his mouth as he felt this flurry of remembered emotions. It was so much to process, but every second he remembered more it made his body tingle with warmth

He pecked Steve quickly before moving his hand over one of Steve’s scars and ducking down towards his stomach. Steve jolted and Eddie gasped as his lips touched his waist and he felt the skin break out in bumps under his touch. That was new. Goosebumps. They were contagious and Eddie felt the hair on his arm stand up as his skin was painted with them.

“I’ll be gentle,” Eddie said softly, speaking against Steve’s skin before he felt Steve’s fingers in his curls. He made a sound in the back of his throat, approving of the touch until suddenly Steve’s grip tightened and he was yanked back by his hair.

Eddie hissed with pain and he watched as Steve brought his legs up to cover his stomach, one of his knees wedging firmly between their chest.

“Eddie!” Steve exclaimed, holding Eddie’s head back and away from himself.

“Ow—Steve,” Eddie whined, frowning deeply, noticing the wild look in Steve’s eyes for the first time.

“Stop!” Steve said firmly, sounding angrier than Eddie had ever heard him.

“All…alright,” Eddie mumbled, a little shell-shocked as he stared at Steve. Had he hurt him? He didn’t mean to. Touching like this was supposed to feel good. He had felt good touching Steve, but maybe Steve hadn’t?

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, finally letting go of Eddie’s hair and pushing back and away from him until he was standing beside the bed.

Eddie stared at him, unsure how to answer that question or if he was supposed to.

“Kissing?” Eddie replied, shrinking in on himself slightly. Maybe he had just been doing a bad job of it. So bad that Steve didn’t even know what he was doing.

“No—-Eddie,” Steve sighed, putting one hand on his hip while the other went to pinch the bridge of his nose.

He was panting and Eddie could still hear Steve’s heart pounding, even from where he was seated. Steve smelt different too. He smelt… heavier. He liked the smell, it made him want to get closer… but he stayed seated, starting to squirm slightly as he waited for Steve to explain.

“I thought…” Eddie started, feeling as if he needed to explain, “since we’ve done it before…”

Steve looked up at him sharply, his brows creased and pressed in. He fumbled for words, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to push the sounds out of himself.

“What?” he asked finally and the question made Eddie’s back straight and his shoulders bunch up to his ears.

“We what?” Steve asked, his tone sharp and starting to truly frighten Eddie.

“Kissed… and… more,” Eddie explained, leaning back as he pushed across the bed, away from Steve, some of the magazines clattering to the ground behind him.

“We’ve—” Steve started, staring at Eddie with wide eyes once again. “No, we haven’t!”

“We haven’t?” Eddie asked, unsure of himself, his heart pounding out of his chest in a completely different way than it had been moments earlier. “I thought—I remembered us…”

He didn’t like the way Steve was looking at him, it was intense and nothing like how he usually was. He didn’t like this Steve.

“That—-we’ve never–” Steve groaned and turned away from him, rubbing his hands over his face a few times. He was pacing in the room, the sound of his groans muffled by his palms as Eddie continued to push away until he was in the corner of the bed. He tucked up against the headboard and pulled his knees up, making himself smaller.

That didn’t make sense. He could remember kissing Steve. He could remember touching him and seeing his body–he could remember all of it. The memories weren’t sharp–they felt wispy almost–but they were there. They were different compared to Eddie’s other memories, but Steve was different so it made sense for them to feel different too. But he couldn’t put a time or a place to these memories… he couldn’t produce the adjoining lead-up to them kissing. It was as if these memories were removed from time and space… why didn’t they make sense?

Eddie's eyes snapped up toward Steve, his blood running cold as he realized what all of this meant.

Fantasies. They had been fantasies.

These memories hadn’t actually happened, they weren’t real, they were things he had conjured in his own mind. They had been private. They were never things he was supposed to act on….

Eddie felt his face heat up and he touched his own cheeks as he realized that the sensation was. Embarrassment. Shame. Overwhelm. He had been embarrassing to Steve. He had kissed—

“Fuck!” Eddie yelled, the word jumping out of his mouth and shocking him slightly before he pushed his face into his knees.

His shout had surprised Steve and he had seen him turn towards him before Eddie was covering his face from shame.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Eddie muttered, his voice loud but muffled still by his own hands. “I’m sorry—forget about it—you can just forget about it. Please forget about it. I’m sorry–”

--To be continued in Chapter 3. Picking right back up from here--

#sorry for the cliffhanger #Poor little monster Eddie #my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #fluff with slight smut

71 notes · View notes