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je-suis-applebread · 2 days

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Wait do the beasts still want their souljams back? Since I see that PV and White Lily are in the au-

I was just wondering if the beasts have tension between the ancients but this also brings up the question of if the other ancients visit as well

mostly text post (that took quite some time)

so, where do i start... beasts-ancients relationships under the cut (there's a lot)

Beasts don't try to get soul jams anymore. They know, that once they get their hands on at least one, they would get grounded once again faster than they can say "world domination" - even though they don't know if Witches are the same they used to be or not, they know cookies would still be able to bury them alive at that tree, so isn't worth it.

But not that they even want to try that again. They've already lost once, what is there to repeat? They are kinda content with what they have now. And I find two of them a special case, actually.

Eternal Sugar and Silent Salt. After everything I came up with, I've found something special about them, something that especially noticeable in "what if eldad faerie died" reactions - Eternal Sugar wants them to be happy, Silent Salt tries to be there for them. They get closer to what their ideals were once. Maybe they're not Happiness and Solidarity per se, but sometimes they just feel like that. Of course, they're not gonna take respective soul jams to become whole again, neither do they have some special synergies with their Ancients, it's just a detail I really like.

Anyway, to relationships we go.

Mystic Flour:

- Dark Cacao: Dark Cacao HATES her for what had transpired during her chapter and - hey, can you really blame him for his feelings?? He just never wants to see her ever again (he'll have to on purelily's wedding, poor soul), he does not know what he will do if he sees her for too long. — She doesn't give a fuck about it or him.

- Pure Vanilla: she doesn't interact with him all too much, however he is terrified by what he heard from Dark Cacao. So he maybe wishes he won't stumble upon her. — She, once again, doesn't give a fuck.

- Hollyberry: she would like to call Mystic Flour out on feeling something because no way she believes Mystic Flour really apathethic to everything. — That's annoying to Mystic Flour, otherwise she also doesn't give a fuck

- Golden Cheese: they forbid her from starting fights because the first thing she did when found out about her doings from Dark Cacao, she started looking for her to at least punch her. She was held back physically, which did not stop her from shouting insults. — Mystic Flour was watching it with her annoyed face, mostly irritated by noise also not fully understanding why Golden Cheese reacts almost harsher than Dark Cacao when it wasn't even her kingdom, why would she feel something that strong when it didn't include her. If Golden Cheese is surprisingly in Faerie Kingdom, she locks herself up so she would not have to listen to her screams for another half an hour.

- White Lily: she really doesn't believe Mystic Flour is okay in any way though. Of course every Beast has their "oof lmao", but everyone is maybe slowly but surely come to senses and Mystic Flour... White Lily knows she must give a fuck about at least something, even if she is "Apathy". So she is mostly worried about her and her attitude. Also hearing about her deeds made White Lily once again think of her doings as Dark Enchantress, so she became quite quiet for a while (and Silent Salt was another quiet one, but tried to be a comforting presence). — Mystic Flour... She doesn't give a fuck to even try to not to give a fuck. Like, with others is mostly "ignore them", but with Lily she doesn't even acknowledge ignoring her

Shadow Milk:

- Pure Vanilla: after all the troubles, he really didn't want to believe a word of his and maybe possibly evade him. But being there with White Lily, he kinda got to know new Shadow Milk - mischievous and still very emotional, but otherwise mostly harmless. Sometimes he wonders if this is some grand deceit of his but then this silly boy hides behind him because he just annoyed Mystic Flour to point of giving a fuck and, well, it doesn't seem that likely. He is not fully comfortable with being around him - at first he wasn't comfortable with Shadow Milk at general, but after he got used to him it was because he didn't really want to be his hiding wall or involuntary coparticipant of his jokes and stuff. — And we all know what Shadow Milk feels about him. For him, Pure Vanilla is absolute bestie, he never let's this poor innocent guy go, for him he's that rat/mouse he picked up and said "youre my bestie now"

- Hollyberry: she kinda likes his energetic and funloving attitude. She gets that he shouldn't be trusted, but hanging around him is never boring for her. She trusts her friends that if Shadow Milk would start deceiving her, they would notice and get her back, so she's kinda chill about him. — He also finds her quite interesting, especially her stories. Especially dragon ones. And maybe she kinda internally compares him and Pitaya because under overall opinions, they're good companions.

- Dark Cacao: he can tolerate him, which already is times better than with Mystic Flour. Not very much aside from this though - Shadow Milk being cookie of Deceit is already a massive con for him, and his personality overall is kinda annoying for Dark Cacao. He can stay in the same room as him, but he's gonna grumble or leave it if Shadow Milk tries to communicate with him with no actual reason or pull some shenanigans of his. — As for Shadow Milk, Dark Cacao kinda reminds him of Silent Salt and a little of Mystic Flour, so bro can't stop himself from annoying this guy. Overall he's fine, but nothing really special standing out.

- Golden Cheese: she's wary of him, she's all like "I'm not letting you mess with my head". She's all ready for hitting him should the need come. Shadow Milk actually finds kinda amusing the fact that she was deceiving herself about her kingdom's fate. — He would like to mess with her about it or at least stir some talk that way but she never lets him.

- White Lily: she was a bit tense about him in the beginning, but slowly started to find his personality kinda amusing. His shenanigans were making her smile when she was sure of nothing, when her thoughts were trying to get her. She could see his obvious attachment to Elder Faerie what raised her trust towards him even more. — Shadow Milk, considering her closeness to Elder Faerie, kinda treats her like some kind of sister. Out of the Beasts, he knows how haunted she is by her past the most. If he was to cheer her up, she would think of it as a lie, so he mostly distracts her from thinking or gets Pure Vanilla's attention to her

Eternal Sugar:

- Hollyberry: drinking buddies. Okay, let's elaborate, she wasn't really trusting her at the beginning, but Eternal Sugar let her understand, that she has no harm in mind as of now. One time White Lily mentioned that Eternal Sugar makes really good wine and then Hollyberry accepted next drinking together suggestion. She slowly started warming up to her and really enjoys their drinking sessions. — Eternal Sugar actually first suggested drinking together right after her defeat. She basically said like, hey would you like to drink with me? i want to cheer over your victory. And of course Hollyberry was surprised aaand of course she was suspicious. But Eternal Sugar didn't stop after that rejection – after all, she knows that Hollyberry likes drinking, so that means they both like drinking the most out there so why not take her in drinking buddies and possibly just buddies down the line, with the way they giggle after first half of drinking session.

- Pure Vanilla: he likes to see how happy White Lily is to chat with her. He gets that Eternal Sugar is, like, mostly harmless when she has no motivation to commit atrocities, so he's actually very fine with interacting with her. He finds it pleasant to talk with her when they're together. — Eternal Sugar finds him cute in terms of personality. Also sis is main purelily supporter in this household, she finds him very good for White Lily.

- Dark Cacao: she doesn't really worry him. He isn't enthusiastic to communicate with her but if she tries to sometimes he entertains it. She's the most chill out of them and Dark Cacao gets it – like, he's not gonna trust Beasts, at least anytime soon, but he's kinda okay with her. — Eternal Sugar can't help herself but think of Silent Salt whenever she sees Dark Cacao, she actually suspects that just like Silent Salt, Dark Cacao also is a "softie"© inside, that's her main theory.

- Golden Cheese: the only Beast she is okay with. Golden Cheese actually finds her wings kinda cool, and maybe she sometimes pouts because Eternal Sugar doesn't agree to flying race. — Eternal Sugar is not a fan of races or such but she totally can't drop the topic of wing care. She had been asking Golden Cheese if she was doing anything with her wings and gave some of her wing care tips in return (and Golden Cheese had actually tried out a few)

- White Lily: she was invited on girls night by Eternal Sugar after a few visits to Beast-Yeast. She didn't really know what to expect, but it turned out just a girls night with her, Eternal Sugar and Mystic Flour. Like, of course, Mystic Flour was in her "i don't give a fuck", but White Lily and Eternal Sugar actually had quite some fun, spending the night by meaningless gossips and different hairstyles (they even made one for Mystic Flour). — Eternal Sugar just adores White Lily. Like, she was kinda intrigued when she met her for the first time, but the she started gradually realising that she wants to befriend her and so she did. Her bestie is Burning Spice, but White Lily is very close second, she's not even second, she's first and a half.

Burning Spice:

- Golden Cheese: Golden Cheese is tense and kinda down around him. Tense because of what he had been doing about soul jam stuff and down because he embodies destruction, he reminds her of her loss just by being there. She kinda tries to play neutrality or still being irritated about soil jam stiff around him, she mostly tries o leave whenever they're in the same place. — Burning Spice actually feels kinda bad because he had distressed an already traumatized person even more. He would like to somehow make up for that, but he can't really get a chance to do so.

- Pure Vanilla: he finds Burning Spice quite sincere person. Like, of course Burning Spice still gets into troubles and creates destruction, but most of the time it happens out of accidents, which makes Pure Vanilla calm about him. He's not malicious since the end of all the soul jam mess, and he finds him a fun person. Way too active to tag along, but fine to have an occasional chat with. — Burning Spice thinks he's a bit frail actually, not in the bad way. Like, if Pure Vanilla would get exhausted around him he would totally carry him (not that he wouldn't for others, but it's even more for Pure Vanilla). He kinda likes to ask him about Crispia, how the world is there.

- Hollyberry: she kinda finds their personalities a bit matching. Like, she had found him quite fine all the way almost in beginning when he crashed in something and was very embarrassed about destruction he caused. She suggested having a spar the very next time they saw each other (of course under supervision but he didn't mind), so she really likes running around with him when she visits. — Burning Spice also likes spending time with her. He actually was surprised to see so much power in such a cookie but oh he's all in for it. Especially after stories about dragons (which may have made him being happy as a little kid whenever he wins a long spar/forest race or something else against her)

- Dark Cacao: he actually gets skeptical half the times Burning Spice gets into another destructive accident but doesn't push on it looking at his friends. He is kinda tense about him, but actually his active yet sincere personality sometimes reminds him of Crunchy Chip and so sometimes he gets lost in fond thoughts around him. — Burning Spice finds him kinda grumpy but also thinks he has his reasons to be that way. He doesn't really try to communicate with Dark Cacao most of the time, knowing he would most likely be turned down or ignored, judging by his personality.

- White Lily: she gets worried about Burning Spice each time he crashes into something or something like that happens again. Burning Spice spends quite some time with Eternal Sugar, so she finds him being her good friend just like Eternal Sugar. — Burning Spice can't think of her any way except as a friend or kinda sister, but mostly friend. He likes chatting with her and Eternal Sugar, sometimes he even participates in their girl nights (and those nights they totally paint their nails(do cookies have those though...? ...does it matter though??)).

Silent Salt:

- White Lily: she was kinda tense and a bit afraid of him in the beginning but slowly she was finding him more and more reliable and just kinda misunderstood. So she stopped worrying about him looking all intimidating and tried to know him closer. She realised he is actually very reliable and the most responsible out of Beasts, so she actually started sticking around him sometimes. — He knows she wanted best and then it turned out into disaster, so she totally wants to comfort her (and possibly relates). He sometimes gets quite worried thinking of what would somebody who don't know her think of her knowing truth about Dark Enchantress(especially worried when he sees the way Golden Cheese still can't get okay with it), also he really wants her to kinda separate Dark Enchantress and herself in her head. She's here and that person is out there.

- Pure Vanilla: at first he was tense as well, but then noticed that Silent Salt does something questionable only when something happens that really clashes with his morals. After he got to know him a bit closer, he started to understand his company. Not really enjoy it, it's kinda uncomfortable for him, but he understood while others were finding it comforting. — Silent Salt is positively surprised that such an actually pure cookie exists in such a world. He respects Pure Vanilla for his personality and morals, for the way he does not waver in his ways and wishes he would stay this way as long as this world would allow him to.

- Hollyberry: she finds his presence kinda unnerving especially with him being that silent so she tries to not interact more than needed. — Silent Salt just thinks their personalities are way too different, no way to actually connect with her. She does not try to do so and so he follows this tactic.

- Dark Cacao: he finds their similarities being kinda unnerving. Since Silent Salt is, well, silent, he had been thinking they would not really communicate, but they kinda got some non-verbal communication in actions, body language and in case of Dark Cacao, eyes. So he got that they both are just worried about ones they care for and can go for great lengths to protect what they have. But otherwise he really doesn't initiate any other contact. — Silent Salt kinda sees through him because of their similarities and he thinks Dark Cacao should get better before it gets worse for everyone. If anything serious would ever happen, he is sure they would both jump to action the very same moment and possibly cooperate way too well.

- Golden Cheese: she's not gonna become unnerved because of him, but she really has no reason to stay around him with him never talking, so if she has nothing to do she mostly leaves if they happen to be in the same room. — Silent Salt, once again, finds it worrying, how she reacts to White Lily. He finds himself wanting to get them through it but he knows he can't make Golden Cheese just change her mind. Otherwise, he doesn't really has a special opinion on her since they communicate as much as him and Hollyberry – that is, they almost do not.

Phew, I think got everything. That took quite some time but I got through it yaay

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk #shadow milk cookie #mystic flour cookie #eternal sugar cookie #burning spice cookie #silent salt cookie #pure vanilla cookie #white lily cookie #eldad faerie au #crk au #dark cacao cookie #hollyberry cookie #golden cheese cookie

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rosie-b · 3 days

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True Blue

Chapter 15: Trust Falls

“Marinette.” Gabriel cut her off with a solemn voice. “Listen to me. Adrien started wearing a ring last evening.”

Marinette blinked in confusion.

“Okay? Is that relevant to Golden Bug checking on civilians?”

“Yesterday, you told Golden Bug to switch his Miraculous with Chat Grise. He would have to stop wearing his earrings and start wearing a ring instead. Just like Adrien did,” M. Agreste exclaimed, raising his voice.

Marinette’s heart stopped.

You can read the rest on AO3 or below!

The akuma battle went flawlessly— from Golden Bug and Chat Grise’s perspectives, at least. Bluewing and Hawk Moth lost again.

Marinette found herself distracted by the akuma throughout the battle, which contributed to their loss. She knew they were the innocent doubts of a civilian, but she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Adrien was right when he accused Hawk Moth of manipulating people into becoming victims of his akumas. Each time the purple butterfly mask flashed over Reverser’s eyes, she remembered the pained look that had flashed over Nathaniel’s face when the same thing happened to him as Evillustrator. She remembered the way another person had seemed to take over his mind on the boat, forcing him to tie her to the railing and threaten her life.

She remembered what it felt like to be just a pawn. And she wondered.

There hadn’t been enough time for Golden Bug and Chat Grise to exchange their Miraculous, so there was no advantage for Bluewing to hide the weakness of her wandering thoughts behind. The battle took a turn for the better when Golden Bug and Chat Grise were each struck by Reverser’s paper airplanes, but despite how indecisive Golden Bug became and how boomingly loud Chat Grise was, making it impossible for her to hide, Bluewing ultimately lost to the power of Lucky Charm.

And her fan got Cataclysmed. Again.

Overall, though, Marinette managed to avoid botching the battle; after all, it was thanks to her distractions that Reverser was able to hit Golden Bug and Chat Grise. (She hadn’t expected the flirty line she’d pilfered from Adrien’s repertoire to have such an effect on Golden Bug, but she wasn’t complaining. It had been satisfying to be the one making him blush and trip over his feet, for once.)

She’d have to try that trick again sometime— if it was appropriate, of course! All she wanted to do was trip Golden Bug up and create an opening for the akuma. Her flirting with Golden Bug was nothing if not professional.

Professional, like Bluewing was when she took the opportunity after her defeat to inform Hawk Moth that Golden Bug and Chat Grise would likely be switching their Miraculous within the next day or two.

“What?” Hawk Moth demanded, his voice booming in the earpiece Bluewing had found in the base of her fan after the Miracle Cure restored it post-battle.

“Golden Bug stopped by my balcony before the fight. He doesn’t suspect me,” she quickly assured Hawk Moth, “He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t in danger of being akumatized because of my nightmare. I pried for a little information,” Marinette said, wincing at the white lie, “And he admitted to feeling like he’s losing to us, even if he wins against the akumas. So I suggested he and Chat Grise switch Miraculous again, to practice in case they ever need to switch Miraculous in a fight again.”

Hawk Moth growled. “Why would you tell him to do that? It sounds like you want him to be more capable of defeating us!”

“I know it does, but I have a plan. Before they can get any practice in, we should attack with another akuma. Not now, in case they still haven’t switched, but before too long. Give them a few days to think it over, and then send an akuma; we can catch them off guard and attack with an advantage!”

Bluewing waited anxiously to hear what M. Agreste would say. It was a risky plan, to be sure, and maybe she was half-motivated by how good Golden Bug looked in black, but she did think her idea was worth a shot! She just hoped that Hawk Moth agreed.

“I see,” he eventually said with a hum. “This might work. I approve, Bluewing, and I appreciate you taking some initiative. With an attitude like this, we may soon have our victory!”

“You’re welcome! I hope we do,” Marinette said.

Yet even as she spoke, doubt coiled in her stomach. Adrien and Golden Bug’s warnings, while probably wrong, wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Very well. Goodbye for now, Bluewing. Be ready to seize our chance.”

Hawk Moth hung up, and Bluewing quickly ducked out of her hiding spot to head home. Her work for the day was done.

__*__*__*__*__

The next day was Saturday, and for once, Marinette had nothing scheduled. So she decided to just relax and try to work through the confusion of the past few days, in honor of Nathalie’s advice.

As she rinsed her dishes after breakfast, though, Marinette found herself frowning as she tried to prepare herself to meet the new secretary on Monday. She still couldn’t believe Nathalie had just quit! Had the stress of working for Hawk Moth finally gotten to her? Had she just not cared about Adrien and Marinette as much as she seemed to?

Whatever the reason for Nathalie’s short-notice departure had been, Marinette couldn’t help but feel a bit of resentment toward her for it. After all, Gabriel, Nathalie and she had arguably the most important jobs in all Paris! What could possibly take priority over saving the world?

Adrien didn’t seem to share the same view, though. If he knew what Nathalie had been helping his father to do, maybe he would have begged her to quit. But then again, maybe he would have finally realized that Hawk Moth and Bluewing were not his enemies.

Marinette was startled to learn that Adrien didn’t think saving his mother was worth using the Wish, but she was still hopeful that he’d change his mind if he knew the circumstance just a bit better! The problem was that he was used to the narrative of Golden Bug and Chat Grise being the heroes. After all, he was friends with the Goldenblogger herself, and no one hated Hawk Moth more than Alya and the other super-fans of the ‘heroes!’

Marinette may have been friends with Alya, too, but she had inside knowledge to protect her from the media’s bias. If only Gabriel had trusted his son with that knowledge from the beginning, they wouldn’t be in such a mess now! Sometimes she wondered if he’d sent Adrien to public school just to keep him away from the house while he was busy with his akumatizations. The thought brought a scowl to Marinette’s face.

Still, Marinette was determined not to let her doubts and anger get the best of her, so she decided to help her parents in the bakery and then watch a movie to distract herself from her emotions. It worked like a charm at first, but eventually, reality began forcing its way in. Still, Marinette had had worse days.

Halfway through lunchtime, Marinette’s phone started buzzing with an incoming call. She didn’t think anything of it at first. When she saw it was coming from Gabriel, she was intrigued, since he normally didn’t contact her outside of the mansion.

She excused herself and answered the call as she made her way to her room.

“Marinette,” Gabriel said in a low voice. “I have some important information to share with you. It’s critical to our success, so if you are not in one already, get to a secure location. Make sure no one can overhear what I am going to say.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. She was in her room now, and no one else was there except Duusu, who was sleeping on one corner of her pillow. They’d seemed pretty wiped out by the trip to Adrien’s room, and so Marinette was letting Duusu rest. She’d asked if anything was wrong, but Duusu said they were fine, it was just the memories of the past decade and a half re-settling in their brain.

Marinette agreed that that was an awful lot of memories, even for a kwami, and was more than happy to leave Duusu alone until they felt better or until Hawk Moth sent out another akuma.

“We’re secure,” Marinette confirmed to M. Agreste. “No one is around to overhear.”

“Good. Now I need you to tell me if Golden Bug has ever contacted you, outside your suit, before.”

Marinette frowned, her stomach twisting. “Sir, if you think I’m secretly working with him, I assure you, I am not. We are enemies.”

“I know that,” Gabriel snapped. “Just tell me, has he ever visited your balcony before? He was comfortable enough talking with you to share his own insecurities and take your advice. So tell me, do you know why?”

“No, I don’t,” Marinette quickly responded. “The first time I met him was during Evillustrator, but we didn’t spend much time together after he rescued me. He did check in on me a while after that, but that was because Adrien asked him to. He thought I was down and wanted to cheer me up. Golden Bug is interested in making sure me and the other civilians are safe from akumatization,” she admitted, feeling her stomach churn. Where was M. Agreste going with this?

“Adrien sent Golden Bug to your balcony? He told you that?” Gabriel sounded stressed by this information, as if his son was supposed to inherently mistrust Golden Bug and never talk to him.

“Uh, yes. Oh, and Golden Bug also broke into my room to wake me up when Sandboy gave me a nightmare. He didn’t leave until he knew I was okay. Then, since he noticed I was still shaken up, he stopped by again today and I gave him the advice to switch Miraculous after a short chat.” She hesitated, still unsure of M. Agreste’s goal with this conversation. “He’s just really friendly, sir. Why are you asking?”

Gabriel exhaled sharply and muttered a curse. “Golden Bug cares about you, specifically, far more than any other civilian. I’ve never heard of him checking in on any other akuma targets. He cares about you, Marinette.”

He sounded upset about that, Marinette noted. But this didn’t sound so unusual to her; checking up on civilians was just something Golden Bug did. As far as she knew, this was normal behavior for him!

“I’m sure he’s checked in on other people before, M. Agreste. What about after the—”

“Marinette.” Gabriel cut her off with a solemn voice. “Listen to me. Adrien started wearing a ring last evening.”

Marinette blinked in confusion.

“Okay? Is that relevant to Golden Bug checking on civilians?”

Marinette’s heart stopped. M. Agreste thought that his own son was his arch-nemesis? That couldn’t be true. For so many reasons, it couldn’t be true! She had to make Gabriel see reason.

Taking a deep breath, she ventured, “Just because Adrien started wearing a ring around the same time Golden Bug and Chat Grise might have switched Miraculous, that doesn’t mean that they’re the same person. Maybe Adrien just likes rings! Or maybe he’s taking inspiration from his favorite hero.”

Marinette’s mind raced as she thought of explanations for this coincidence. It had to be just that, just a trick Mr. Agreste’s mind was playing on him! It was just the stress of being Hawk Moth catching up to him, it had to be! She couldn’t bear to think that she’d been fighting her best friend this whole time. She would have recognized him! Wouldn’t she?

Gabriel made a dismissive noise. “Marinette, have you ever noticed how Adrien usually wears his hair? It’s not a style I picked for him, though I let him wear it since it frames his face well. But he chose it deliberately to hide his ears, his Miraculous,” he hissed. “Adrien is Golden Bug, and that makes him a traitor!”

Marinette flinched at Gabriel’s tone. “No, Adrien’s not a traitor!” she cried.

The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. Gabriel slowly breathed out, just barely audibly, as if to question her audacious outburst.

Marinette, too, was surprised by her own words. But Gabriel was acting unstable! If she didn’t speak up, then who would?

“Adrien’s not a traitor,” Marinette repeated in a quieter voice. “And I’m sure he has a good explanation for his new ring. You should ask him yourself, if you still don’t trust him.”

Marinette could feel M. Agreste’s glower through the phone. “Miss Dupain-Cheng. There is no other explanation I can think of for this. Golden Bug took a personal interest in you, and Adrien has, too. We both know the depth of his emotions, misplaced though they may be. They share the same sympathies, the same childish behavior, and now they share a ring. Your advice prompted our enemy to reveal himself: Adrien is Golden Bug.”

“Okay, well, I still think you should ask him first,” Marinette countered, and her heart beat wildly as she spoke. “I don’t believe they’re the same person. Besides, we still don’t have proof that Golden Bug even has Grise’s Miraculous! We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a minute.

Then Gabriel spoke. “You’re right, we need proof that they switched Miraculous. Fine! I will discover the truth some other way. Thank you for your honesty, Marinette. You may go back to whatever it is you were doing.”

He hung up, and Marinette’s shoulders sagged in relief.

She’d managed to make M. Agreste stop and think. But would it be enough to change his mind? She hoped it was; there was no way Adrien was Golden Bug!

As if her thoughts had summoned it, Marinette’s phone buzzed with a text from Adrien that moment. Curious, she checked what it was and found that he’d sent her a cat meme, a sure sign that he was bored.

Silly kitty, she responded to the text. Adrien sent a few cat emojis, and then a longer text.

Father stuck me with a surprise photoshoot, it read. I’m bored out of my mind and they’re only on styling my hair.

Marinette giggled, then sobered. Maybe this photoshoot was part of M. Agreste’s plan to find out whether Adrien and Golden Bug were the same person? Was he planning to send an akuma to see if Adrien would suddenly vanish from the set?

Teen model problems strike again, she responded. Hang in there! I’ll make sure my parents save some extra pastries to give you on Monday to cheer you up.

Adrien thanked her in his usual, dramatic fashion. She smiled at his effusive texts, happy that they were still such good friends. It meant he didn’t suspect her after the stunt she’d pulled as Bluewing the other day, and that even Dark Cupid couldn’t tear them apart. They were the best of friends, completely the opposite of her relationship with Golden Bug! It was more proof that Adrien was not Golden Bug, regardless of what his father thought.

Marinette spent a half hour cleaning her room, a rare occasion that had been becoming more necessary each day. Her bad mood from earlier was still threatening to return, but the quick interaction with Adrien left her feeling better than she had all day.

She just hoped M. Agreste wouldn’t do anything to spoil her afternoon.

A few minutes later, she received another call from him. Sighing, she picked up, hoping that this time, he was just calling to say she was right and Adrien was not a traitorous enemy withholding a Miraculous from them. (Even if he was Golden Bug, Marinette found herself thinking, that wouldn’t make him a traitor. That particular label could only apply if he’d been told what his father was trying to do from the start and had pretended to side with him.)

“I am going to send out an akuma shortly,” Gabriel brusquely told Marinette. “Conditions are ripe, and with any luck, we will soon have conclusive proof on whether or not Adrien is Golden Bug. That is what you wanted, correct?”

Marinette nodded. “Yes. You have taken into account that Adrien is at a photoshoot right now, right? You know I don’t want any akumas to put him in danger.”

Gabriel sighed. “Just transform, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I am aware of your sensitivities. Rest assured that I am taking the best course of action.”

Marinette frowned. “Okay, sir. Which way should Bluewing head?”

“Head towards the park. I haven’t yet akumatized anyone, but I will have my champion soon enough. Oh, and Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“Now that Duusu’s brooch is healed, I’m hoping you will take the next step to help me. There is no risk to doing it now, so I want you to create a sentimonster to help us win this fight. Without one, we may fail again, but with a sentimonster of our own, we shall achieve victory. You know what you must do, Bluewing. Do not let me down again.”

“Sir,” Marinette shot back in a tight voice, “I told you before, I won’t create a senti. They’re not monsters; Adrien is proof enough of that! Whatever I create would have its own mind and life. But Golden Bug and Chat Grise wouldn’t know that; they’d find and break or control the amok, which would violate the senti’s rights. I know you don’t agree with me, but I do believe that creating a senti for the express purpose of battle would be a misuse of the Miraculous power. I will help with this akuma, but you know the boundaries I set. Don’t make me cross them!”

Silent for a moment, M. Agreste let out a sigh. “Fine, ignore my advice. But I think you will soon agree with me that sentimonsters will be necessary for our victory.”

As M. Agreste hung up, Marinette struggled to hold in a sigh. Why did he have to be so moody? She understood that his fear of Adrien being Golden Bug would affect his emotions, but that didn’t give him the right to try and force her to break her moral code. He needed to calm down and act reasonably.

Besides, he was sending an akuma to the park? Plenty of Adrien’s photoshoots were done there. She could only hope the one he was in now was being shot somewhere else.

Marinette climbed up to her loft, feeling disgruntled.

“Duusu,” she called, leaning over her bed to gently poke them with a finger. “Duusu, wake up.”

Duusu opened one violet eye and slowly rose up from the pillow, stretching and yawning.

“Hello master,” they said. “What is it?”

“Don’t call me master,” she reminded Duusu. “I’m just Marinette!”

Duusu blinked. “Oh, right. You are a nice holder, then. But I don’t have many memories of you talking to me yet.”

Marinette winced. “I wasn’t allowed to talk to you while your brooch was broken. M. Agreste was afraid of what you’d tell me while you were... um, not in your right mind. But now that you’re better, I hope we’ll become closer!”

Duusu smiled. “I’d like that, ma—e Marinette! But I’m still not completely better; my memory is still fixing itself. Why did you wake me up?”

“Ah! M. Agreste called and told me that he’s going to create another akuma. We’re going to need to transform and get out there to help him.”

Duusu hesitated. “A champion? The Guardian must have seen great need to send out a call for Nooroo’s Miraculous to be put in play. Is there some kind of threat to Paris?”

“Yes,” Marinette said. “But it’s not one recognized by the Guadian. He is the one who created it! This time, Hawk Moth and I are working to undo the harm caused by the Guardian’s rules. We’re doing it to save your old holders, like I saved you. But to do that, we need a Wish.”

Duusu’s eyes widened. “What? No! Wishes are dangerous, Marinette! If you don’t know what you’re doing, then... bad things happen,” they said, staring off into the distance. “Bad, bad things!”

Marinette frowned. “Worse will happen if we don’t make the Wish. Has the Guardian lied to you, too? I promise we’re doing what’s best for Paris.”

But something about the words did not feel right to say.

Marinette hesitated, then added, “Or at least I am. The last thing I want to do is cause more harm than has already been done to the world.”

Duusu narrowed their eyes. “Okay, then. Maybe I forgot something else, and I just need to remember what happened. Should we go, then?”

Marinette nodded. “Thank you for trusting me, Duusu. Spread my feathers!”

As soon as her transformation ended, Bluewing headed out to the park. Along the way, she saw a horde of people carrying posters of Adrien from the perfume ad he’d recently starred in.

“What are they doing?” she asked herself as she watched them run down a series of alleys, chasing each other and taking pictures or live streams of what was going on.

Bluewing dropped down into the alley once they’d all passed through, only to meet a latecomer dressed up like Adrien. The similarities between them was so uncanny, it made her take a step back.

“Bluewing! Did you see which way Adrien went?” the boy gushed, seemingly not at all concerned to have run into a person widely considered to be both evil and dangerous.

Bluewing’s heart stopped. Was this the akuma?

“Adrien? No, why? What happened?”

The boy grinned. “He was doing an outdoor photoshoot, and then took a break! Now’s our chance to catch up to him and show some appreciation!”

Bluewing scowled. “Is there an akuma?” she asked. “How did this chase get started?”

Not-Adrien shrugged. “I don’t think so. No, there’s no akuma, it’s just the power of Adrien making us go crazy for him!”

Bluewing watched in disgust as the boy ran off to catch up with the rest of the mob.

“Worse than normal paparazzi,” she muttered.

Pulling out her fan, she opened the screen in its base and briefly checked the news. No reports of an akuma so far. Good. That would have been her last straw with Gabriel, regardless of his concerns about Golden Bug!

Left with a bit of time on her hands, Bluewing wondered whether she should try to make it to the head of the stampede, to rescue Adrien from his predicament. But maybe the akuma would show up soon, and then Hawk Moth would accuse her of ignoring her job and letting Golden Bug and Chat Grise win!

While she hid in a corner to ponder this, another person stepped into the alley by Bluewing. Holding in a gasp, she peeked out to check who this was and how much of a threat they presented to Adrien. This person cast a long, thick shadow, and as they came into view, she could see their muscly build, broad shoulders, and... sideburns?

There was no threat at all! This was the Gorilla, which meant that Adrien was just minutes away from being saved.

Then Marinette saw the deep scowl on the Gorilla’s face, and heard the low growl emitting from his throat. He was not happy to have lost his charge again.

And the akuma flapping around him proved it.

Marinette pressed a hand over her mouth in shock as she saw the akuma wedge itself in between the Gorilla’s clenched fingers, melding with the phone inside his fist. A butterfly outline lit up around the Gorilla’s eyes, and he grunted, stopping his slow march and standing up straight. Raising his free hand, the Gorilla pressed it against his forehead, seemingly trying to resist the akuma’s influence

But Hawk Moth’s symbol stayed where it was, and though the Gorilla shook his head and gritted his teeth, his attempts to lose the akuma were weakening every second.

Horrified, Marinette watched from the shadows as the Gorilla continued trying to fight off the akuma. He looked like he was in pain from the effort, and she was just about to risk revealing herself to help him break out of the akuma’s hold when the Gorilla suddenly stilled, his head bowed low.

Then a purple light flared around him, rippling his appearance and distorting it. When it faded, Hawk Moth’s new akuma stood where Adrien’s bodyguard had.

The Gorilla’s attempts to resist akumatization had failed.

Bluewing struggled to accept what she was seeing as the new akuma stormed off, causing a path of destruction to follow him as he continued his search for Adrien.

Hawk Moth had just akumatized someone against their will. More than that, he’d chosen Adrien’s own bodyguard to akumatize. He was putting Adrien at risk, and he knew it! He had to know it!

Bluewing scowled and took off after Gorizilla. This little game of Gabriel’s was going too far.

As she avoided the hordes of people screaming while they escaped the King Kong-ish akuma, Bluewing took out her earpiece and called Hawk Moth.

“The akuma. You chose Adrien’s bodyguard?” she accused as soon as he picked up. “This can only put him in more danger. I warned you not to do that!”

“On the contrary,” Hawk Moth responded smoothly. “By choosing Adrien’s bodyguard, I am simply making sure we know where Adrien is at all times. He slipped away too easily. Furthermore, he will not be in danger; this is his bodyguard. Gorizilla is the least likely person to hurt Adrien.”

Bluewing growled. “You’d better be right. This akuma is putting you on thin ice, Hawk Moth. Be careful; I’m running out of reasons to trust you.”

Hawk Moth scoffed. “I am the only one who’s bothered telling you the truth, Bluewing. I gave you the power to defend Adrien and you still don’t want to use it, so Gorizilla will keep Adrien safe for you. If you don’t trust me, blame no one but yourself! Now excuse me, I’m in the middle of business of the utmost importance.”

He hung up. Bluewing launched herself after Gorizilla, feeling rage build in her veins as she saw that the akuma had caught up to Adrien during the call. He was wrapped in the akuma’s fist, struggling to free himself.

And yet, he didn’t seem to be hurt. Bluewing stumbled to a halt when she noticed the gentle, but firm, hold which Gorizilla kept Adrien in. He was trapped, yes, but he seemed to be all right.

The sound of a yo-yo zipped through the air, and Bluewing turned to face Golden Bug.

A blue-armored hero with long, dark hair stood in his place.

“Chat Grise,” Bluewing said in surprise. Had Golden Bug taken Marinette’s advice, then?

“It’s Lady Steel,” her opponent snarled. “Tell the akuma to drop Adrien, now.”

Bluewing frowned. “Believe me, I wish I could,” she said. “But I’m afraid the only way this particular akuma will leave him alone is if you give me your Miraculous; you and Golden Bug— er, Chat, both.”

Lady Steel lowered herself into a threatening stance. “Not happening.”

As she clashed with Lady Steel, Bluewing caught Gorizilla’s movement out of the corner of her eye. Civilians screamed and ran as he stomped across the city blocks, over to the Montparnasse tower.

Then, he began climbing it, letting out a challenging roar once he reached the top.

Is Hawk Moth insane? Bluewing wondered. As she faltered, Lady Steel delivered a combo of hits that left her on the ground, wheezing. Lady Steel swung away before Bluewing could get up.

But she didn’t really want to. That would mean she’d have to return to ugly old reality, where Adrien was being dangled off the top of a skyscraper by Hawk Moth’s own akuma, his old bodyguard.

Gabriel had sent another akuma after his son, and he’d done it on purpose, against the Gorilla’s will. She’d seen the mask appear over Gorizilla’s eyes before he climbed up the tower; she knew whose fault it was that Adrien’s life was in danger now.

Hawk Moth was trying to get Adrien to transform, just to prove the theory that he was Golden Bug. And he had no problem with putting Adrien’s life in danger to do that.

Bluewing pushed herself off the ground, energized by her rage. Hawk Moth was not thinking clearly, and he refused to listen to her, when she tried to force him to! He was out of control.

Then again, now that the ‘heroes’ had traded Miraculous, she and Hawk Moth held the advantage. If she ignored Hawk Moth’s ploy, maybe Bluewing could defeat Lady Steel and Black Cat or whatever name Golden Bug would be going by when he showed up. If she played her cards right, then this nightmare could still end today!

Marinette’s heart raced as she approached the Montparnasse, leaping onto its steep side from the nearest building and running up to the top at full speed.

Pulling out her earpiece again, Bluewing popped it in and called Hawk Moth, determined to at least communicate her moves, so that they could coordinate better. She dodged Lady Steel’s yo-yo swipe, but hesitated to strike back. Where was Golden Bug? He should be here by now!

The battle was just getting started, she reminded herself as Hawk Moth picked up. He’ll be here soon enough.

“Bluewing. Why are you calling me again?” Hawk Moth asked.

Bluewing lashed out at Lady Steel with her fan, aiming for her ears. Lady Steel fell back with a grunt, leaving Bluewing with a little room.

“Just trying this thing called communication. Don’t know if you’ve heard of it. I’ll whisper my moves ahead of time so you know what I’m doing, that’s all.”

“Acceptable, I suppose,” Hawk Moth said, and fell silent.

For a few minutes, Bluewing, Lady Steel, and Gorizilla fought, the latter fighter inhibited by his need to keep holding Adrien. From the cage of Gorizilla’s fingers, Adrien yelled encouragement for Lady Steel and tried to distract Bluewing, which worked disappointingly well.

Her advantage was rapidly disappearing, even with an akuma to back her up.

The mask appeared over Gorizilla’s eyes again, and he grunted loudly at Bluewing.

It was a message from Hawk Moth, and she knew what it meant.

“Use your power. Create a sentimonster,” Hawk Moth hissed in her ear. “This fight must end soon!”

Marinette had several issues with his demand, which she’d already told him. Even if she didn’t, she failed to see how a sentimonster would reduce, not increase, the amount of danger Adrien was in!

“No,” she huffed out, lashing at Lady Steel, who caught the fan in her hand.

“Catacly— wait.”

Bluewing smirked and twisted out of Lady Steel’s grasp.

“Care to try that again?” she taunted. “Maybe you’ll have better luck this time!”

Bluewing groaned as Lady Steel’s eyes lit up.

“Lucky Charm!” she called.

“Ha. Better luck. Nice one,” Adrien said with a laugh, and then flinched as Gorizilla squeezed him tighter.

A red and black-spotted flower fell into Lady Steel’s waiting hands.

“A freesia?” she asked, bewildered.

“Pity. I’m not even allergic!” Bluewing remarked as she kicked Lady Steel’s legs out from under her.

Gorizilla brought his free fist down, and Lady Steel moved out of the way just in time. The tower shuddered, and Bluewing was fairly certain she heard shards of glass fall from the windows and hit the ground.

Adrien cried out, and Bluewing and Gorizilla twisted to look at him. He didn’t seem hurt, but it was clear that he was afraid, despite the bravado he’d taunted Bluewing with.

Gorizilla looked upset, and he began to open his fist. Was he letting Adrien go?

Then Hawk Moth’s symbol flashed over Gorizilla’s face, and he grunted as, once again, he fought the akuma’s influence.

“What are you doing?” Bluewing asked Hawk Moth over the earpiece.

He didn’t answer, too busy talking to the akuma instead, and soon, just like last time, Gorizilla lost to the power of the Butterfly. Marinette watched as Gorizilla’s face smoothed out, becoming impassive and devoid of emotion as the akuma took over.

He backed away from Lady Steel, who had used Bluewing’s distraction to sneak up on Gorizilla, and stood close to the tower’s edge, clutching Adrien tightly.

“We still need proof,” Hawk Moth finally responded in a clipped tone. “Get Lady Steel’s Miraculous.”

Bluewing obediently moved toward her opponent, pouncing on Lady Steel and falling to the floor with her. They rolled, fighting for dominance, and Bluewing guided their path away from the akuma. Lady Steel didn’t seem to mind that much; she seemed reluctant to risk running into Gorizilla and startling him into dropping Adrien over the edge.

Bluewing pinned Lady Steel beneath her, ready to make her move for the Miraculous, but her position was too loose. Lady Steel took advantage of her mistake and kicked Bluewing off before throwing her yo-yo at her. Bluewing dodged, but the yo-yo wrapped around her arm, pulling her off balance. She wobbled on her feet, but quickly raised her arm and spun back out of the yo-yo's grip in time to meet Lady Steel’s lunge and keep fighting.

“We do need a sentimonster,” Hawk Moth hissed insistently through the earpiece as Bluewing grappled with Lady Steel. “You know it’s the truth, even if you keep denying it. Well, soon you will see reason, and I will have my proof.”

“Hold on— bit of a problem here,” Bluewing panted, aiming a kick at Lady Steel’s stomach.

Lady Steel caught it with her hands, and shoved Bluewing back and off balance again. The two circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move first, when a sharp cry came from Adrien’s direction.

Bluewing turned in time to see Gorizilla raise his fists up to his head, fighting a command from Hawk Moth once again. Lady Steel took advantage of her distraction to grab the base of Bluewing’s fan, but she couldn’t pull it out of Marinette’s tight grip.

“Adrien,” Bluewing whispered, noting the precarious position he and Gorizilla were in.

His former bodyguard was slipping back under the akuma’s control, lowering his hands from his head. Adrien, still held tightly in Gorizilla’s right hand, was now dangling directly over the edge of the skyscraper. His eyes widened as he stopped struggling to get free, looking down in fear as Gorizilla seemed to relax further.

The purple akuma mask vanished as Gorizilla’s expression calmed, his shoulders falling in relaxation. Bluewing sighed in relief, glad that the situation was back under control. Beside her, Lady Steel let out a shaky exhale. But in front of them, Adrien shivered and closed his eyes.

Gorizilla’s fist had stopped moving, but as Bluewing squinted in his direction, she thought she saw his fingers twitch. Lady Steel saw it, too, and she tugged harder of Bluewing’s fan before giving up and throwing a punch at her face. She wanted to get to Adrien, Bluewing could tell as she reflexively fought back. They both wanted to make sure he was safe. But Hawk Moth had chosen the Gorilla for a reason, right? Gorizilla was only keeping Adrien safe.

Bluewing flipped backwards, out of Lady Steel’s range, momentarily losing sight of Adrien. When she straightened, she lunged towards Lady Steel, but she wasn’t looking. Her attention was on Gorizilla, instead, as his fingers loosened, one by one.

Bluewing froze, unable to process what was happening, as Gorizilla dropped Adrien over the skyscraper’s edge.

For a moment, Lady Steel and Bluewing both watched in horror. As Adrien disappeared from sight without even a scream, Bluewing felt like she’d been punched. The feeling rapidly worsened as what she’d just seen sunk in.

Gorizilla dropped Adrien. He’s going to die, all because of an akuma Hawk Moth promised I could trust! And it was all after Gorizilla received a new command.

Bluewing sank to her knees, feeling like she was going to throw up. How could M. Agreste do this? Hadn’t he claimed to be fighting for his son? Then why would he endanger his son like this? Just to find out whether he was Golden Bug or not?

No! He wouldn’t! This had to be some kind of mistake.

Maybe Gorizilla wasn’t supposed to drop Adrien; maybe he’d been trying to fight the real command and couldn’t and messed up and now Adrien was falling from the top of a skyscraper.

While Bluewing fought off her despair and forced herself to stand up, ready to fight, Lady Steel let out a bellow of rage and charged toward the edge of the roof. She pulled out her yo-yo, readying it to save Adrien, and Gorizilla watched her closely as the mask reappeared around his eyes.

Bluewing sighed in relief. Hawk Moth was probably ordering Gorizilla to let Lady Steel go! Now she could save Adrien. He was going to be okay!

But just as Lady Steel swung her yo-yo out and leapt toward Adrien, Gorizilla reached out and caught her, wrapping her tightly in his fist as he glared first at her, then at Bluewing.

A cry of despair tore from Bluewing’s throat, and Lady Steel screamed, kicking Gorizilla and fighting to free herself from his grasp.

He only squeezed her tighter, pinning her arms down and restricting her movement further.

As Bluewing watched, horrified, the akuma turned to look at her. Hawk Moth’s mask reappeared over his face, and he pointedly looked down, where Adrien was still falling, then at the fan Marinette was holding. The message was clear.

You want to save him? Then make a sentimonster. Now.

The mask vanished, replaced by Hawk Moth’s voice in her ear. “Do it.”

Bluewing shuddered at the spiteful command.

Adrien’s fall wasn’t a mistake. This was Gabriel’s twisted ploy, meant to force Adrien to transform if he was Golden Bug, and to force Bluewing to create a sentimonster to save him if he was not.

Hawk Moth had done this on purpose. There couldn’t be much time left to save Adrien, and yet M. Agreste still prioritized controlling her (and Adrien’s own bodyguard) over letting Lady Steel save his son.

Bluewing’s eyes filled with tears as she ran towards Gorizilla, pleading with broken half-words that made no sense and did nothing to change Adrien’s fate. Could Hawk Moth even hear her? He must see her through the akuma’s eyes, but he did nothing, just forced Gorizilla to keep holding hostage Adrien’s only hope for salvation.

But something about the way Bluewing’s face twisted up as she begged Hawk Moth to change his mind must have affected Lady Steel, because she, too, was watching. And unlike Hawk Moth, she seemed to be listening.

She struggled once more to get free, but only succeeded in freeing one arm. Looking at the Lucky Charm she’d summoned, which lay forgotten on the roof, Lady Steel then looked at her enemy.

“Bluewing,” she rasped out, pinning Marinette with her gaze.

And then, with the one hand she’d managed to free, Lady Steel tossed Bluewing her yo-yo.

Marinette dropped her fan and caught the yo-yo on instinct, feeling confused but realizing the same thing Lady Steel had within seconds.

Today, they shared the same enemy. Hawk Moth had gone too far, and now they fought to save the same boy. Lady Steel couldn’t do it herself, trapped as she was. But with the help of her yo-yo, Bluewing could.

So before Gorizilla could react, she hooked the yo-yo's string around her finger, flung the yo-yo out and down, hooking it on some unseen anchor, and launched herself off the building. The earpiece connecting her to Hawk Moth’s outraged voice fell out as she leaped, dislodged by the force with which the yo-yo tugged her downwards.

As Bluewing fell, travelling much more quickly than Adrien had, she caught sight of a distant crowd gathered on the road, and between her and them was Adrien. He’d twisted around at the sound of the yo-yo, and now he was looking up and Bluewing, eyes wide and full of a fearful kind of hope.

Adrien opened his mouth to say something, but the wind tore it away from his lips before it could reach Bluewing’s ears fully-formed.

They were close to the ground now, and getting closer. But before Bluewing saved herself, she needed to make sure Adrien would be safe, too.

Bluewing fell farther, and the last few centimeters of separation between her and Adrien vanished. She quickly wrapped her arm around Adrien, pulling him close to her as she tossed her yo-yo out again, pulling them forward rather than down.

Adrien buried his face in her neck, and she tested the elasticity of the yo-yo's pull, praying it would work to slow them down enough.

They fell in an arc, passing over the confused, shouting crowd, heading for the next city block over. Again and again, Bluewing tossed out the yo-yo, each time gaining a little more control, slowing their descent even more while they travelled away from the last of the scattered crowd, until finally, she felt safe enough to slowly drop down to the ground, Adrien still tucked securely under her arm.

Immediately, Bluewing pulled back from Adrien and began checking him over, gently touching the area under his arms to see if he’d been bruised when she grabbed him. He stood still and let her, looking down at her with an open yet unreadable expression.

Bluewing let out a shaky sigh and pulled him down into a hug, cradling his head against her neck and tightening her fingers around his hair. He melted into her, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing like he never wanted to let go. A wet spot grew on Marinette’s shoulder, but she didn’t mind. It was proof that Adrien was still alive, that she’d saved him, that Hawk Moth had failed.

Her heart broke at that thought, and she pressed herself closer to Adrien as tears of her own began to fall.

Adrien had nearly died. He’d nearly been killed, and it was Hawk Moth’s fault; Hawk Moth’s plan!

He’d lied to Bluewing. He’d promised that Gorizilla would keep Adrien safe, but that wasn’t true. Gabriel had chosen the Gorilla to make sure that his akuma caught Adrien, to keep tabs on him and make sure he couldn’t turn into Golden Bug (not that he was Golden Bug).

Hawk Moth had tried to pressure Bluewing into creating a disposable sentibeing, and when that failed, he tried again to convince her by throwing Adrien from the top of a skyscraper, apparently to see if that would force Adrien to transform into Golden Bug, or at least convince Bluewing to create a senti to save him if he didn’t.

What a mess.

And how much more did Hawk Moth lie about? Marinette wondered as she forced herself to stop crying and focus on the situation she’d gotten herself into.

Adrien had already stopped crying, and now he was the one cradling Bluewing, rubbing her back and humming softly in her ear.

She didn’t deserve his comfort.

“Adrien,” she choked out, pushing herself away from his embrace.

She looked up at him, unsure what expression she’d find on his face. Whatever she’d thought it might be, it didn’t prepare for the soft, tender way Adrien was gazing down on her. A blush covered his cheeks, and Marinette realized that she could feel the strength of his emotions through the brooch on her chest if she concentrated.

She’d never done that before. It felt good.

Adrien’s emotions were as warm as his embrace had been, heating up her chest and filling it with a wave as deep as the ocean. Bluewing closed her eyes, thrilling at the sensation of it, feeling trust and happiness and love radiate from Adrien. It was soothing and addicting and the most confusing thing that she’d ever known.

“You should hate me,” she whispered, opening her eyes to find that she was cradling Adrien’s hand to her chest.

The shocked ‘O’ of his mouth was curving into a smile as he looked down at it.

“You saved me,” he whispered. His voice was hushed, almost awed.

Marinette was happy that she could still hear it. She was happy she’d saved him.

She was very confused as to how a boy who’d seen her as a villain for so long, even after she tried explaining herself, could suddenly trust her now. Could love her. Was this just Adrien’s emotions for Marinette coming through the brooch?

They were deeper than she’d ever dreamed.

“I had to,” she whispered in return. Bluewing let go of Adrien’s hand, letting it drop back to his side. “And you have to go. He’ll be looking for you. Stay safe, away from the battle.”

“Ma— Bluewing, what are you doing?” Adrien asked, and Bluewing felt a ripple of fear and confusion come through the brooch.

“I don’t want to leave you, believe me. But I couldn’t stand it if I let you get hurt! I lo— I mean,” she stuttered, feeling a blush stain her own cheeks red. “I care about you. I’m glad you’re all right. But now, you have to stay away from Gorizilla. I don’t want Hawk Moth to hurt you,” she pleaded.

Adrien looked down at her for a second, his confusion receding, his fear gone.

Then he pulled her into a short hug, turning to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured, sending shivers down Marinette’s spine. “I’m glad you did the right thing.”

She swallowed as Adrien stepped back. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Bluewing watched as Adrien turned to go, before turning to face her again.

Hesitantly, he asked, “Is Hawk Moth going to be mad at you for this?”

Dread shot through Marinette. “Yes,” she said. “He will be.”

“Are you going to leave him? Will you join Golden Bug and Chat Grise?”

Marinette hesitated. “You need to go, Adrien. There’s still an akuma, you know.”

Adrien frowned, and his stubborn behavior sent its echo through her brooch.

“But you will, right? You know the truth now.”

Bluewing felt tears prick her eyes again. “Just go, Adrien. I don’t know what to do.”

Adrien offered a small smile to her as he began to leave. “You will, Bluewing. I know you’ll do the right thing!”

Bluewing felt his assurance, his trust, through the brooch, and a small smile of her own curved her lips.

Maybe she would be able to live up to Adrien’s hopeful expectation. But as it turned out, she never had before.

As Bluewing stood there, considering, the yo-yo Lady Steel had lent her vanished from her hand. She'd had to detransform, then.

I hope she’s safe, Marinette thought, heading off to find a safe spot of her own to detransform. I hope they’re all safe. Especially Adrien.

It had taken a while, but now, she understood why she’d been so devastated by Hawk Moth’s attack on him. Any person being put in danger like that would have upset her, but Adrien...

What she’d felt from him through the brooch wasn’t all that different from what she felt for him. Wasn’t that odd? She’d spent all this time worried about her crush on Golden Bug, and here she was in love with Adrien!

But it didn’t matter now; Bluewing realized that there was a far more important matter to take care of. Gabriel Agreste was not the man she’d once thought he was. He’d called Adrien a traitor with no proof, only baseless suspicions; he was willing to risk killing his son just to prove he was Golden Bug— and he’d lied to Marinette to get her to go along with his plan! He was manipulating her; how much, she didn’t know, but it was obvious that he’d lied about more than just Gorizilla protecting Adrien.

After all, he’d lied about asking for permission to akumatize people. A months-old baby giving informed consent to terrorize Paris? Adrien was right, that was ridiculous!

Hawk Moth had deceived her.

The Guardian. The Wish. How much more had he lied to her about? What about Nathalie; had she quit, or was she fired?

What if he’d killed her?

Marinette’s heart raced as she ducked into a hidden alcove and released her transformation.

“Duusu,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Yes, Marinette?”

Marinette swallowed and looked up, meeting the kwami’s eyes with a determined expression.

“We need to talk.”

#true blue #bluewing au #ml fanfic #rosie-b writing #miraculous ladybug

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monbons · 3 days

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WIP Wednesday

Posting actual WIPS on a Wednesday? Imagine that.

As long as we are all baring our hearts on tumblr, I have to admit that I have been struggling to write anything since I wrapped up Eternal Life (back in the first week of April). At first I figured I was simply burnt out since I wrote all 42k words of that fic in just about a month, but given that I've started three separate WIPS since then and made zero progress on any of them, I'm wondering if I am just out of stories. I hate all my words--even though I really love some of these concepts. So, as you may have noticed, I've been distracting myself with sewing projects because good progress is so clearly visible there...

Anywho, to motivate myself, I decided to post a snip of each today and hope that having bits out in the world will motivate me to finish at least ONE of them! All untitled. Set up and snips below the cut.

Very creatively titled "Party Robot," this WIP is a silly/fluffy one-shot inspired by an article I read a while ago about a growing trend in American weddings. This one is the furthest along and will likely see the light of day eventually...

A nervous bounce. From a robot. I recognize that bounce. “I thought you said Shepard was working tonight.” My voice is tight. “He is.” Bunce replies, similarly strained. “What did you say he does again?” Panic rises in my chest. “He’s in entertain–” Whether Bunce trails off or I simply don’t hear the rest is irrelevant because the music has changed from easy dinner instrumentals to much-too-loud techno and the show is clearly starting. As the synths build, driving towards a crescendo, my brain reels with the growing realisation that Simon would never just abandon me at the last minute, would never send me anywhere alone, certainly not my cousin’s gay wedding, which is every kind of milestone given his Old Families lineage and Pitch blood specifically and– “PARTY PEOPLE!” The DJ booms into the mic. “Have the grooms got a treat for you!”

A multi-chapter AU I have lovingly nicknamed "Baz in a Bubble." It is sad and angsty and is proving significantly more difficult to execute (despite having a complete outline) than I once thought it would be. Who could have guessed having one home-bound character would make me too sad to write? Thanks to @thewholelemon and @hushed-chorus who've listened to more than their fair share of my griping about this one. Anyway, here's the first bit of BAZ POV:

There are exactly 297 stars in the sky above me. I count them while lying in my bed every night. They do not twinkle or flicker hello like real stars. Instead, they glow a constant yellowish-green that reminds me of the colour artists always make toxic sludge in the cartoons I grew up watching. It's the colour of superhuman villains and their evil plots. Of poison. Of danger. It's the colour of the plastic star stickers Fiona put up on my ceiling when I was 10 and spent the whole year crying and begging her to go outside. Just once. Just for a minute. Because I was starting to forget what fresh air smelled like or how it felt to have grass prickle against your bare feet or how the stars lit up the night sky in Hampshire. There are no stars in the middle of London. Not outside my window. Not in this room.

And then the WIP I have the least progress on (literally almost nothing) but I so desperately want to write and could really use a thought partner to help me brainstorm/plot/figure out what the hell I'm doing--- a canon divergence where Simon successfully exposes Baz as a vamp and Malcolm steps the fuck up as a father. Here's a bit of Simon POV:

It didn't matter anyway. Pitch Manor was empty. While [the Mage] ranted and raved, I wandered into Baz’s living room. The TV was still on. Peppa the Pig was playing. A half-dressed Barbie was splayed on the couch next to a small bowl of grapes, all cut in half. I picked up the doll and brushed her tangled hair out of her face. Why didn’t I know Baz had a sister? A family that ate snacks together in front of the TV? Parents who loved him so dearly they fled their whole lives under cover of night? In the days that followed, I sat in meeting after meeting with the Coven, listening to The Mage. He demanded the casting of tracking spells, pushed through more dark creature reforms, and rambled about the miscarriage of justice and the dangers of harbouring monsters. But Baz wasn’t a monster. He was just a boy. A scared boy. A boy who ran because he wanted to live.

Anyway...here's to accountability via tumblr. Maybe once I've slept for several weeks and feel more refreshed I won't be so frustrated by every word I know, or more precisely, all the beautiful ones I can’t seem to find…

Thanks for the tag @bookish-bogwitch. Cannot wait to devour the new chapter of BPD!

Hellos and high-fives to all. May your words (and art) be faring better than mine: @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @roomwithanopenfire, @facewithoutheart

@emeryhall, @artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @larkral, @rimeswithpurple

@drowninginships, @valeffelees, @shrekgogurt, @blackberrysummerblog, @iamamythologicalcreature

@run-for-chamo-miles, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @arthurkko, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold

@beastmonstertitan, @supercutedinosaurs, @rbkzz, @fiend-for-culture, @theearlgreymage

@brilla-brilla-estrellita, @skeedelvee, @ic3-que3n, @talentpiper11, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

#words words words and not a fic to show for it #if eternal life is my last fic at least it is a damn good one to go out on #if you would like to suggest a sewing project for me to procrastinate with i am open for business #gonna go crawl back into bed in the meantime #wip wednesday

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da1e3e · 2 days

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˚✿��°𝑲𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚⋆˚✿˖°

| ⋆ Sypnosis: You were chiling in your humble home, when it comes time for your cat to take her daily stroll through the neighborhood. Not long after, It started raining. After an hour- almost two, you hear your cat mewing at the door. You open the door to not just find your wet kitten, but a wet gentleman as well.

| ⋆ Inspired by the Enha Kitten Video here ⤑ ✧˖°ʚ 🐈 ɞ✧

| ⋆ Pairing: Non!Idol Jungwon x Reader

| ⋆ Genre - Fluff!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆ Just coming from a relaxing morning shower, you dress in comfy house clothes, putting on your favorite scented lotion. rubbing your work tension away with it, you finish up and head to the living room. Your candles were also lit, a vanilla and coconut essence roaming through your place, lighting up it’s homey aura. You sat on your comfy sofa enjoying the scents, begining to read a book. Finally, You were on vacation leave, so there was no work for you for the next week. No kids, no guy to stress you out- Life was going amazing for you.

Just as you began another chapter, you feel a small body cuddling your feet. Feeling soft, mellow, fur You look down to see Willow, your fur baby mewing, letting you know it was time to let her out. Usually around a certain time in the day, you let her out to explore. You didn’t want to deprive her by making her stay in the house all day, and besides- she only wondered around the neighborhood. You smile, placing soft strokes on her, picking her up and carrying her to the door. You set her down, opening your screen door for her. “Just Don’t be too long okay, Willow?- I heard that it’s going to be raining today.” You speak, hoping your fur baby would understand. She then gave a purr of assurance, rubbing her soft ears on your ankles. With one last circle around you, she was gone, sprinting around the corner. You close your screen door, locking it and going back to finally begin that chapter.

After a bit, you notice it started to rain like the news predicted. And it wasn’t just raining, it was pouring down. You didn’t seem to mind it at first, but then it started thundering causing you to lose your focus on the book every now and then. Eventually, you decided to crack the door close a bit, also taking a break from reading. You sigh, checking your phone to see what time it was. It was currently 4pm, being an hour since Willow left. You walked to the door once again, hoping Willow would be right there when you got there, but to your suprise, she wasn’t. Before you began to worry, you also reminded yourself that this wasn’t the first time she was late. You just had to give her another hour and a half. That cat would survive in a tornado if she got sucked in, she’s a strong girl, you dismissed. You decided to clean, since you had the relaxing sound of rain to keep you motivated.

After cleaning, it was time for you to begin preperations for dinner. You turn some music on to get you into the zone, sliding through the billions of songs you had. You slide your head phones, sinking in the jams you knew and loved. You cut up some cabbage, placing it in a pot along with some enoki mushrooms. You then begin to cut up some meat, when you start to slowly hear quiet mews. “What the hell…” You slide your headphones off, wondering if you were crazy or you actually heard mews. The mews then got louder, as well as a the sound of a person whispering. You slide the lid of the pot back over it, putting your headpones on the counter. Slowly creeping towards the door, you feel your heart start to race. You didn’t know what to put of the sounds you just heard. “Willow?” you call, slowly opening the door. You open the door to see Willow… purring the arms of… a man. “Hello! I’m sorry to show up like this but…I believe this is your cat. She was uh… chilling with me and my friends and refused to leave so I figured I’d just bring her back.” He gives a nervous smile, holding your sopping Willow out to be collected. You look up at the sky, then at the two, seeing water falling off of them as if they were like rocks underneath a waterfall. Not even worried about him being a total stranger, your motherly instincts kick in. It was raining- no pouring down and he was kind enough to bring Willow back. “Come in quickly!” you demand, opening the door for both of them. At first the male hesitated, but he figured it would be harmless. Plus he walked, so if left he was just gonna get even wetter.

“I’ll get some clothes out for you to get changed, just give me one second-” You stress, rushing to your room to find the male some clothes. You knew if he didn’t get out of those clothes, he was going to get sick. “Oh please- you don’t have to—” He starts, but then You cut him off, shouting from the hallway. “Just shush okay! I don’t want you getting sick- you at least need to stay until the rain stops.” The male then shuts his lips, accepting his fate. You dig through your closet, finding the perfect plain white t-shirt, along with some oversized pajama pants that were gifted to you, but were too big. You then make your way back into the living room, handing him the clothes. “Here, you can use these—” You begin, but get interupted by his sudden movements. He grabs your hand, holding it for a brief moment, his eyes fixated on you. “Thank you.” He chimes, looking at you with puppy eyes. For a moment, you get mesmerized, not realizing how charming he was until now. You had been more worried about getting him in the house, then actually paying attention to him. “Y-your welcome, I mean it’s the least I can do for you b-bringing Willow back. But Uh- the bathroom is down the hall on your right!” You almost squeak from being flustered. He then smiles, making his way to the shower.

You go back to making dinner, unfortunetely being unable to get his puppy face out your head. You slap your cheeks, sighing hoping it would help you calm down. “Let it go y/n!” you mumble to yourself, knowing damn well you simply just couldn’t. He was good looking AND adorable. Double kill. You look to a Willow that was now dry- sitting on the counter. “This is all your fault! I told you not to stay out too late!” You point at her, playfully scolding her. She then rubs her face on your finger, giving you sweet mews. You melt into her sweet touch. “mew~” She responded, not a single care about your situation. You sigh, giving her light pets on her chin.

Once everything was done for dinner, you put everything on low that way it would stay warm. As you were feeding Willow, you finally hear the bathroom door open. Looking up, you were met with a tall, semi- muscular male. His hair was dripping onto the tee as he was trying to dry it with the towel, as well as the tee leaving a bit of his abdomen showing from the his arm was flexed up. Was it you, or was he REALLY good looking…You didn’t notice how much you were staring, until he was directly in front you. “I’ll put my wet clothes outside so they don’t mess your floors up, is that okay?” He spoke with a honeyed tone, finally snapping you out of your gaze. “y-yeah! that’s perfectly fine.” You jump up, averting your eyes from him. What were you? like 14- staring at him like a horny teenager. You scolded yourself in your head, hoping he didn’t notice. “When you come back, I have a fresh bowl of home made noodles for you.” You announce, making your way into the kitchen. You begin making his noodles, giving him the best pieces of everything. You even gave him one of your finest bowls. One thing about you was, you were very considerate and charasmatic. You would give somone the clothes off of your back if you had to. You then place the bowl on your island, placing the chopsticks in nicely.

The male then comes back, sitting at the island, looking down into the bowl. He fell into silence, until he finally look up. “I just realized I didn’t properly introduce myself— I’m Yang Jungwon, I live a couple houses down.” he chimed, bowing his head. “That’s right- I apology, nice to meet you Mr. Yang, I’m y/n.” You coo, bowing back with courtesy. You then begin fixing yourself your bowl of noodles, somehow feeling a pair of eyes burning through your back. Sending chills through your body, you turn around to shake the feeling, seeing a flustered Jungwon looking away as soon as your gaze lands on him. You grin, “your not slick, I seen you.” “what?” The male acts confused, slurping up a handful of noodles. You chuckle at first, but then your mom mode activates once again. “Slow down— I don’t need you choking.” You scold, your face now becoming serious. Grabbing your bowl of noodles, you place them on the island, across from the male, begining to eat. You were starving, you and Willow usually ate together, so you’ve been busy waiting for her. Silence then falls upon you both, leaving you with nothing but the sound of pure rain, and slight thunder. “You know, as long as i’ve lived here, in this neighborhood- I have never seen anyone come or go into this house.” The male admited, breaking the silence. “Yeah, probably cause I’m always at work…” You sigh, knowing that was definitely the reason. That left you to think,You never got any days off foreal. You were hard working, and very independent. But i mean you had a house to pay for, as well as a cat to care for. So really, you were doing just as the rest of society was enslaved to do. Realizing this, your smile fades slighty. Jungwon notices, starting to feel a bit bad himself. While he did work too- he still made having time for friends and family a priority. “Ahh, it’s understandable. you rather be hard working kitten lady than to be a hardly working kitten lady.” You look at a humurous winking Jungwon. You chuckle, regaining your soft smile. You could tell he tried to make you feel better. For someone you just met, you couldn’t help but feel so happy to just have him there.

After you both ate, talking the rest of the day away- the rain finally stopped. Something you almost wished would never happen. It was nearly pm, as you both didn’t realize how much time went by. You were both laughing and talking as if you guys had been friends forever. For once in a long time, you actually enjoyed yourself. And you hated to admit, but you began to admire how much of a smooth talker he was. “You should definitely come hear us sometime, yeah?” He insisted, looking at you with his famous puppy eyes. “I definitely will.” You agree, with a promising tone. You both then lock eyes for a brief moment, making your heart begin to race. You quickly look away, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks. You shyly clear your throat, letting a nervous chuckle leave your lips. A smile appears on the males face, him finally getting up. “Well, It’s time for me to be on my way. I really appreciate you taking me in, despite not knowing me.” The male coos, sounding a bit sad to be leaving. He began flatening his once ruffled up shirt, waiting for you to also get up. “Of course, I really appreciate you bringing Willow home.” You replied, also a bit sad that it was time for him to go. You and Willow both walk him to the door, your eyes never leaving his form. “Be safe okay— Oh and wait!” You ran back into the kitchen, grabbing a pen. You grab his hand, begining to write your number on it. “Call me if you ever need anything- and don’t be afraid to stop by okay.” You chime, smiling. You could tell he was surpirsed by your offer, but deep down inside, it was exactly what he wanted. He then he smiled, nodding. He then walked through the door, picking up his moist clothes, begining to amble down your pathway. Your eyes never left him, until he made a quick pause by your mailbox, turning around. “I’ll see you soon, Kitten Lady.” He whispers, giving his final smile and wave.

#yang jungwon #jungwon #enhypen #enha imagines #too sweet #kpop scenarios #kpop #fanfic #jungwon x you #jungwon x reader #jungwon fluff #fluff #sweets

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marta-bee · 3 days

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Rereading The Hobbit chapter "Roast Mutton," I'm struck by a) how funny it is, and b) how hard it would be to capture that humor in video form.

Bilbo and the dwarves are getting their first taste of camping which isn't really agreeing with them. It's raining and they can't even get a fire started. One of their ponies got spooked and ended up in the river, ruining most of their food stores. They're cold and generally miserable. And then they see a campfire through the trees and send Bilbo off to investigate.

Which is when things get really fun. And, in fairness, the fun goes on for quite a bit. I'm afraid I enjoyed this scene too much not to share it in all its glory; you can skip down to the row of asterisks below the cut if you don't need to read 2,000-ish words of Tolkien hamming it up.

So, naturally, he got right up to the fire - for fire it was - without disturbing anyone. And this is what he saw. Three very large persons sitting round a very large fire of beech-logs. They were toasting mutton on long spits of wood, and licking the gravy off their fingers. There was a fine toothsome smell. Also there was a barrel of good drink at hand, and they were drinking out of jugs. But they were trolls. Obviously trolls. Even Bilbo, in spite of his sheltered life, could see that from the great heavy faces of them, and heir size, and the shape of their legs, not to mention their language, which was not drawing-room fashion at all, at all.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrer," said one of the trolls.

"Never a blinking bit of manflesh have we had for long enough," said a second. "What the 'ell William was a-thinkin' of to bring us into these parts at all, beats me - and the drink runnin' short, what's more," he said jogging the elbow of William, who was taking a pull at his jug.

William choked. "Shut yer mouth!" he said as soon as he could. "Yer can't expect folk to stop here for ever just to be et by you and Bert. You've et a village and a half between yer, since we come down from the mountains. How much more d'yer want? And time's been up our way, when yer'd have said 'thank yer Bill' for a nice bit o' fat valley mutton like what this is." He took a long bite off a sheep's leg he was toasting, and wiped his lips on his sleeve.

Yes, I am afraid trolls do behave like that, even those with only one head each. After hearing all this Bilbo ought to have done something at once. Either he should have gone back quietly and warned his friends that there were three fair-sized trolls at hand in a nasty mood, quite likely to try toasted dwarf, or even pony, for a change; or else he should have done a bit of good quick burgling. A really first-class and legendary burglar would at this point have picked the trolls' pockets - it is nearly always worthwhile if you can manage it - pinched the very mutton off the spite, purloined the beer, and walked off without their noticing him. Others more practical but with less professional pride would perhaps have stuck a dagger into each of them before they observed it. Then the night could have been spent cheerily.

Bilbo knew it. He had read of a good many things he had never seen or done. He was very much alarmed, as well as disgusted; he wished himself a hundred miles away, and yet - and yet somehow he could not go straight back to Thorin and Company empty-handed.

So he stood and hesitated in the shadows. Of the various burglarious proceedings he had heard of picking the trolls' pockets seemed the least difficult, so at last he crept behind a tree just behind William.

Bert and Tom went off to the barrel. William was having another drink. Then Bilbo plucked up courage and put his little hand in William's enormous pocket. There was a purse in it, as big as a bag to Bilbo. "Ha!" thought him warming to his new work as he lifted it carefully out, "this is a beginning!"

It was! Trolls' purses are the mischief, and this was no exception. 'Ere, 'oo are you?" it squeaked, as it left the pocket; and William turned round at once and grabbed Bilbo by the neck, before he could duck behind the tree.

"Blimey, Bert, look what I've copped!" said William.

"What is it?" said the others coming up.

"Lumme, if I know! What are yer?"

"Bilbo Baggins, a burr-- a hobbit," said poor Bilbo, shaking all over, and wondering how to make owl-noises before they throttled him."

"A burrahobbit?" said they a bit startled. Trolls are slow in the uptake, and mighty suspicious about anything new to them.

"What's a burrahobbit got to do with my pocket, anyways?" said William.

"And can yer cook 'em?" said Tom.

"Yer can try," said Bert, picking up a skewer.

"He wouldn't make above a mouthful," said William, who had already had a fine supper, "not when he was skinned and boned."

"P'raps there are more like him round about, and we might make a pie," said Bert. "Here you, are there any more of your sort a-sneakin' in these here woods, yer nasty little rabbit," said he looking at the hobbit's furry feet and he picked him up by the toes and shook him.

"Yes, lots," said Bilbo, before he remembered not to give his friends away. "No, none at all, not one," he said immediately afterwards.

"What d'yer mean?" said Bert, holding him right away up, by the hair this time.

"What I say," said Bilbo gasping. "and please don't cook me, kind sirs! I am a good cook myself, and cook better than I cook, if you see what I mean. I'll cook beautifully for you, a perfectly beautiful breakfast for you, if only you won't have me for supper."

"Poor little blighter," said William. He had already had as much supper as he could hold; also he had had lots of beer. "Poor little blighter! Let him go!"

"Not till he says what he means by lots and none at all," said Bert. "I don't want to have me throat cut in me sleep. Hold his toes in the fire till he talks!"

"I won't have it," said William. "I caught him anyway."

"You're a fat fool, William," said Bert, "as I've said afore this evening."

"And you're a lout!"

"And I won't take that from you, Bill Huggins," says Bert, and puts his fist in William's eye.

Then there was a gorgeous row. Bilbo had just enough wits left, when Bert dropped him on the ground, to scramble out of the way of their feet, before they were fighting like dogs, and calling one another all sorts of perfectly true and applicable names in very loud voices. Soon they were locked in one another's arms and rolling nearly into the fire kicking and thumping, while Tom whacked at them both with a branch to bring them to their senses -and that of course only made them madder than ever. That would have been the time for Bilbo to have left. But his poor little feet had been very squashed in Bert's big paw; and he had no breath in his body, and his head was going round; so there he lay for a while panting, just outside the circle of firelight.

Right in the middle of the fight up came Balin. The dwarves had heard noises from a distance, and after waiting or some time for Bilbo to come back, or to hoot like an owl, they started off one by one to creep towards the light as quietly as they could. No sooner did Tom see Balin come into the light than he gave an awful howl. Trolls simply detest the very sight of dwarves (uncooked). Bert and Bill stopped fighting immediately, and "a sack, Tom, quick!" they said, before Balin, who was wondering where in all this commotion Bilbo was, knew what was happening, a sack was over his head and he was down.

"There's more to come yet," said Tom, "or I'm mighty mistook. Lots and none at all, it is," said he. "No burrahobbits, but lots of these here dwarves. That's about the shape of it!"

"I reckon you're right," said Bert, "and we'd best get out of the light."

And so they did. With sacks in their hands, that they used for carrying off mutton and other plunder, they waited in the shadows. As each dwarf came up and looked at the fire, and the spilled jugs, and the gnawed mutton, in surprise, pop! Went a nasty smelly sack over hi shead, and he was down. Soon Dwalin lay by Balin, and Fili and Kili together, and Dori and Nori and Ori all in a heap, and Oin and Gloin and Bifur and Bofur and Bombur piled uncomfortably near the fire.

"That'll teach 'em," said Tom; for Bifur and Bombur had given a lot of trouble, and fought like mad, as dwarves will when cornered.

Thorin came last - and he was not caught unawares. He came expecting mischief, and didn't need to see his friends' legs sticking out of sacks to tell him that things were not all well. He stood outside in the shadows some way off, and said: "What's all this trouble? Who has been knocking my people about?"

"It's trolls!" said Bilbo from behind a tree. They had forgotten all about him. "They're hiding in the bushes with sacks," said he.

"O! are they?" said Thorin, and he jumped forward to the fire, before they could leap on him. He caught up a big branch all on fire at one end; and Bert got that end in his eye before he could step aside. That put him out of the battle for a bit. Bilbo did his best. He caught hold of Tom's legs - as well as he could, it was thick as a young tree-trunk - but he was sent spinning into the top of some bushes, when Tom kicked the sparks up in Thorin's face.

Tom got the branch in his teeth for that, and lost one of the front ones. It made him howl, I can tell you. But just at that moment William came up behind and popped a sack right over Thorin's head and down to his toes. And so the fight ended. A nice pickle they were all in now: all neatly tied up in sacks, with three angry trolls (and two with burns and bashes to remember) sitting by them, arguing whether they should roast them slowly, or mince them fine and boil them, or just sit on them one by one and squash them into jelly: and Bilbo up in a bush, with his clothes and his skin torn, not daring to move for fear they should hear him.

It was just then that Gandalf came back. But no one saw him. The trolls had just decided to roast the dwarves now and eat them later – that was Bert's idea, and after a lot of argument they had all agreed to it.

"No good roasting 'em now, it'd take all night," said a voice. Bert thought it was William's.

"Don't start the argument all over again, Bill," he said, "or it will take all night."

"Who's a-arguing?" said William, who thought it was Bert that had spoken.

"You are," said Bert.

"You're a liar," said William; and so the argument beg all over again. In the end they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So they got a black pot, and they took out their knives.

"No good boiling 'em! We ain't got no water, and it's a long way to the well and all," said a voice. Bert and Wiliam thought it was Tom's.

"Shut up!" said they, "or we'll never have done. And yer can fetch the water yerself, if yer say any more."

"Shut up yerself!" said Tom, who thought it was William's voice. "Who's arguing but you. I'd like to know."

"You're a booby," said William.

"Booby yerself!" said Tom.

And so the argument begun all over again, and went on hotter than ever, until at last they decided to sit on the sacks one by one and squash them, and boil them next time.

"Who shall we sit on first?" said the voice.

"Better sit on the last fellow first," said Bert, whose eye had been damaged by Thorin. He thought Tom was talking.

"Don't talk to yerself!" said Tom. "But if you wants to sit on the last one, sit on him. Which is he?"

"The one with the yellow stockings," said Bert.

"Nonsense, the one with the grey stockings," said a voice like William's.

"I made sure it was yellow," said Bert.

"Yellow it was," said William.

"Then why did yer say it was grey for?" said Bert.

"I never did. Tom said it."

"That I never did!" said Tom. "It was you."

"Two to one, so shut yer mouth!" said Bert.

"Who are you a-talkin' to?" said William.

"Now stop it!" said Tom and Bert together. "That night's getting' on, and dawn comes early. Let's get on with it!"

"Dawn takes you all, and be stone to you!" said a voice that sounded like William's. But it wasn't. For just at that moment the light came over the hill, and there was a mighty twitter in the branches. William never spoke for he stood turned to stone as he stooped; and Bert and Tom were stuck like rocks as they looked at him. And there they stand to this day, all alone, unless the birds perch on them; for trolls, as you probably know, must be underground before dawn, or they go back to the stuff of the mountains they are made of, and never move again. That is what had happened to Bert and Tom and William.

**********

Peter Jackson gives us his own version

youtube

... but it's much more heroic. There's a bit of fun back and forth at the beginning, but there's no personified pocket giving Bilbo away, no bumbling fun of the dwarves turning up one by one and caught offguard. None of Gandalf's chuckle-worthy puppeteering. It actually works much better for th kind of story I think PJ's trying to tell, and I'm not criticizing him for it. Because the humor is so verbal, it's so tied in word-play, and I'm really struggling to imagine it translating well into a full visual storyteling. It's made to be read, or perhaps have it read to you, funny voices and all.

That said, if you've not read the books, I do believe you're missing out an Experience here. I'd forgotten how much I love this bit until I reread it myself.

*************

On a more serious note, I do love how seriously Tolkien takes the risk of provisions running short, accidents complicating things and all that. He survived the trench warfare of WWI, and one of the things that most fascinates me about that period was you were as likely to die from just the waste and utter stupidity of war as from a bullet or mustard-gas. It's fitting that the company's first real challenge isn't an orc army or spying crows out of Dunland carrying news back to Saruman; it was simply "mighty little left for supper, and less for breakfast."

I'm also struck by how the dwarves turn up one by one and in small groups in the book. There's a parallel there between their arrival at Bag End, and later at Beorn's house. I'm not entirely sure what it means, but it happens often enough it seems intentional.

And just because I can, have Jirt himself singing Sam's "Troll Song" from Lord of the Rings. Good morning!

youtube

#tolkien #the hobbit #lord of the rings #marta rereads #marta rereads the hobbit #marta blathers #Youtube

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thebrideofreanimator · 1 year

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victor hugo was just not very good at staying on topic was he

#almost done reading the man who laughs #when it’s actually the story it’s so good but #please. stop over explaining politics. i’m begging. you could cut this book in half #i can’t wait to read phantom next. after i finish this book. hopefully this month.#i’ve been reading it since october 💀 i’m so slow bc i’m already a slow reader and then it just goes on and on about the government #although i keep sayinf this is the week! and then it’s not the week bc it’s another long off topic chapter that takes me forever to read #and i can’t skip bc it feels like cheating and i wanna read the ENTIRE thing #i probably will actually finish it this week maybe though bc my schools doing testing bs again this week #and last time we did it i read like a third of the book in the time i had left over #bc i got done fast bc i didn’t try. lol.#ok i’m done rambling i love this movie and i enjoy this book except when i don’t

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lovifie · 2 months

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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

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Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission.

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside.

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size.

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him.

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was.

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning.

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it.

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny.

Not because they would have not loved him back.

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask.

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one.

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body.

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now.

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast.

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest.

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing.

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too.

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms.

Warm and breathing.

He can only imagine what you went through.

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse.

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him.

He already knew that.

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment.

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny.

A scarred, angry Johnny.

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease.

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel.

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately.

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart.

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else.

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other.

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning.

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes.

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked.

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him.

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't.

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest.

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon.

Not the greatest first impression.

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years?

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour.

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection.

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him.

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up.

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him.

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you.

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat.

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care.

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name.

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear.

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length.

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed.

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn

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lokischocolatefountain · 3 months

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Denial || Men Like Me

Part 2 of the Men Like Me series. Part 1

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girthy age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), masturbation (male & female), cis fem reader, descriptions of reader's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, Joel ignores you until he can't, slightly insecure reader, very insecure Joel, corruption kink, mild fem!dom, reader turns the tables a little, name calling, fetishization of virginity, face fucking (not the mouth, but cheek), kneeling, stripping, moneyshot, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 10.4k Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. A/N: The reception that chapter 1 got gave me enough serotonin to keep me going, you guys. I hope everyone likes this chapter at least half as much if not as much as the first one. Even the half would give me a lot of joy. And do say hi in my inbox or my asks. I would loooove to talk about these two. As always, pleaaaaaase give me reblog and/or a comment to recharge my writing batteries. Most importantly, a big thanks to @tobuildahomeinthewoods because the smut part was from their idea in the last chapter's comments .

“Long day, huh?”

“What?” you asked, your brain taking a second too long to process the words. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you said, going back to your glass of whiskey.

“I heard about the kids. They gotta be more careful,” Tommy said, looking to his brother for some kind of confirmation. Joel nodded hesitantly, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. So cavalier like he didn’t fuck you with that very finger. Asshole.

“Yeah, yeah. Climbing trees is not wise,” you agreed, willing yourself to look away from his brother. You didn’t want to get caught staring, or worse glaring. The chatter of the dinner crowd at the Tipsy Bison drowned into the sound of you tapping your fingers on the wood counter of the bar. You got up abruptly, the bar stool going down from the force of your actions. You bent over to pick it up, a hand moving to your chest instinctively to keep from flashing everyone. With no such protection for your ass, you could feel familiar eyes on them. Eyes that you’d become accustomed to having on you no matter the distance.

“You ok–” Tommy began, but you cut him off.

“You have a good one, Tommy,” you said, grabbing your bag from the bar counter and slinging it over your shoulder. “I gotta go. I’m really tired.”

Like the fool that you were, you picked your glass up and downed the rest of the whiskey, your throat rejecting the choice with a cough that had you spit out half of the burning liquor. Great. Now you’d have to wash your scrubs before going to bed so it didn’t stain. Fucking great.

There were some protests from the younger Miller brother, some words of concern. But you ignored him as you hurried out of the Tipsy Bison and into the night. At least one of the Millers had some manners. And it wasn’t the one that broke into your house and showed you what a clitoris was. It was fucking embarrassing that he was ignoring you after that. Even more embarrassing that you had to learn it from a random guy when you were the one poring over anatomy textbooks trying to become a doctor. You should know anatomy better than anyone else. Your mentor should’ve taught you. You’d learned how to conduct a safe childbirth. Even been allowed to close up the last c-section patient. But you didn’t fucking learn how the baby got in there.

Alright well, you did. But you hadn’t been told about some of the especially sensitive parts of the body that would be involved in the process.

You tossed your bag on your couch, got yourself some cookies that you traded for last week and climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t a nutritious dinner, but it filled your tummy. It came in handy when you didn’t want to spend time chopping vegetables and boiling pasta or whatever the hell you had to do to cook.

Your bedroom had become your prison in the last two weeks. You felt trapped, unable to see beyond it. How could you, when it ironically was right here that you found freedom?

Even as you did something as mundane as eating cookies on bed and spilled crumbs on your sheets like a child, the chair in front of your dressing table was in sight. From where you sat, you could see very clearly the scratch on the black paint that revealed the light wood underneath. Evidence of how you had to hold on to dear life as Joel worked your pussy expertly. Like he knew it as well as he knew the tools of his trade. Like weaving his fingers between your folds was as familiar to him as it was for you to weave through skin with your suture needle and thread.

You felt yourself dripping at the mere memory of his thick fingers pumping away inside you, unraveling the fibers of your being. The sight of him at the bar– his finger tracing the rim of the glass– it took you to the memory of that very finger teasing your pussy.

The pornographic magazines, the entertainment for men, no longer saw the light of day from their box under your bed. Pictures of nude women you wanted to model yourself after in order to be attractive to men no longer sufficed. All you strived for now was to be attractive to him. To be strung like a puppet in his hands while all he seemed to want was to get away from any place where you were.

You felt a pang in your chest as you recalled the first time you went to the house of worship after your time with Joel to find that he’d been replaced with the younger Miller. Tears stung in your eyes as you felt rejected by his absence. Like he no longer wanted to be in the same room as you, hammer nails into wood as you spoke to your fellow townspeople about their wellbeing. You told yourself it was just a temporary thing. That the brothers just liked to alternate shifts and he would return soon to fix the windows that shattered during a storm in the winter.

He never came.

You’d never experienced such rejection before. You’d never wanted before. To want was to risk rejection, to feel the pit in your stomach as you felt now. You never wanted to feel less than, undesirable, unwanted. So you pulled away from all the men you dated. If you could even call that dating. Maybe it was your own fault for thinking it would be easier with Joel. What did you think? That he would fold immediately because you showed off your legs and touched his arm and pushed your breasts out to present your femininity?

Naive, stupid girl.

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.”

Something twisted in your belly and you lied down, pulling your covers over you as though it would contain the shame coursing through you.

You probably looked silly to him, like a little girl playing adult. Like a kitten picking a fight with a lion. Less than half his age, just a fucking preschooler on outbreak day when he would’ve been a fully grown man. Maybe already beginning to gray, the skin by his eyes crinkled from the years he spent smiling at and wooing women. Why would he want a girl? He’d want a real woman. Someone like Tommy’s wife, perhaps. Someone he wouldn’t have to teach.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man?” his taunt rang cold in your ear, sending chills down your spine like he was still behind you, fingers buried deep inside the most intimate part of you. You pressed your thighs together, heat pooling between them as it always happened when you thought of what he did to you.

Shame didn’t deter you as you brought your fingers to your pussy, brushing one against your clit with curiosity. With fear. It felt so good, like its sole purpose went beyond the animal need to survive and propagate. You bypassed it to touch your weeping slit, more comfortable with what you were already used to for carnal pleasure.

Your own fingers had always been enough. Out in the wilderness when you needed to release pent up energy. After long days at the clinic and sharing notes with the other students. When you were tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep. Your fingers always took you to where you needed. You were always satisfied.

Not anymore.

You whined as the different angles you tried failed to work. The physical pleasure was the same. But not quite like how it felt with him. His hand was larger, his fingers longer and thicker. He showed you sports inside you that you’d never been able to touch yourself. Maybe this was what people meant when they said ignorance was bliss. Knowledge of pleasure you could have but couldn’t give yourself was torture.

As much as you resented Joel now, you couldn’t help but conjure images of him as you brought yourself closer to release. His deep brown eyes, his large hand that he wrapped around your throat, the way he carried you from your chair and deposited you on your bed. Like a human being weighed nothing to him. Like you were his toy that he could bury his fingers in, play with and set aside when he was done, when he was bored. Entertainment for Men came to your mind again and you cried like you never had at your own touch.

Your thighs trembled as you imagined yourself as one of those women in the magazines, but only for him. Entertainment for Joel. Splayed out on the center page for him to look at and fuck his hand to. You wouldn’t mind being tangible entertainment. Laid out on his bed, limbs arranged in an attractive manner for him, so he could access whatever part of your body he wanted to play with. To be bent to his will and fucked, to be used, given an affectionate pat on your pussy and put away when you’d outlasted his needs only to be given attention when he wanted to get off the next time.

You shook uncontrollably, your eyes squeezed shut and the world went blank as you reached your peak. You pulled your spare pillow to your chest, needing some physical comfort after experiencing such a high. You wished it were him instead of an inanimate object. That he would make you feel good and hold you and kiss you all over. That he would stay when you woke up the next day and do it all over again.

Once the haze of your orgasm cleared up, you cringed at the feelings it had brought out of you. How stupid… Wanting a man who broke in, fucked you with his fingers, and began ignoring you like you did something horrible to him. Fuck Joel Miller and fucking his stupid fucking face. As he said, there were other men in the town. Men who wouldn’t ignore you.

⌘

“How are the windows lookin’?”

“Fixed ‘em up in time for the cold winds. No thanks to you, fuckin’ asshole.”

“Sorry. Y’know I ain’t the church going type.” It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t the church kind before Sarah died and he certainly wasn’t anymore. That the young aspiring doctor he fingered in her bedroom was the real reason behind him swapping work would remain his secret.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled, playing with the now cold fries on his plate. “It ain’t a church, by the way. Maria keeps correctin’ me. It’s the house of worship.”

Joel rolled his eyes at that. He got the reasoning behind it. The town had people who believed in different Gods and had different religions. Calling the place a Church would be as unfair as calling it a– whatever, he didn’t know any other kind of place for worship. But it still pissed him off when his little brother came to him and went on about something his wife said.

Go off and do whatever your wife tells you, motherfucker.

No matter how he tried, the snide voice in his head that hated Maria never went away. He never said anything to her or Tommy. Maria was decent to him too, unlike the time he first arrived with Ellie. She trusted him with Miles. Invited him and Ellie over to family dinners. But they kept their interactions to a minimum, as though there’d been a silent agreement that it was best they kept it civil so as to not sow discord in the family.

“Whatever. No point in worshiping, be it Jesus or whatever stuff they got goin’ these days.”

A shudder went down his spine, triggered by the talk of religion. As it became colder, Ellie had begun to revert to the empty shell of a child she was after the events in Colorado. There’d been grifters in the past hiding behind religion to cheat people out of their money, to damage children irreparably while preaching the word of God. The end of the fucking world somehow didn’t stop them from going on. Didn’t stop people from believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful guy in the sky was still watching and would protect them.

If what protected people was God, guns were God. And Molotov cocktails. Sharp rocks and shoelaces.

Ellie didn’t tell him much, but from what he could piece together, it was a religious group with one guy leading them. And they were fuckin’ cannibals. Sounded like a goddamn cult.

“It’s a nice place to meet people,” said Tommy, snapping him out of his descent into the void of the recent past.

Joel simply snorted and took a sip of his glass of water. He couldn’t handle his alcohol like he used to. Age and that he had been off his usual cocktail of oxy and whiskey for a long time now. He had to resort to having a lot of water to sober himself up after the occasional evening drinks with Tommy.

“What? It is! I go there, catch up with everyone in town. Usually people go there when they’re going through some shit. It makes them feel conscious if you visit their house. So I just run into ‘em at the Chu– house of worship– and I just talk to them about their lives ‘n see if there’s anything I can do for them.”

“Guess you’re right,” he said, slotting his thumbnail in the ridges on the bar counter absentmindedly, scraping off bits of the old softening wood.

He could go again. Only so many days he could ignore you. But the reminder of the shame coursing through his veins when he saw you this evening made him shake the thoughts off. There was no way he could be anywhere you were without shriveling up and dying of embarrassment.

You were so young.

Relatively unblemished by the world. A fuckin’ virgin. Never known the touch of a man and moaning his name as you touched yourself.

Nope, nope, nope. Shouldn't have gone there, he thought as he felt himself hardening in his pants. Shouldn’t his dick be non-functional by now? He was dangerously close to sixty and spent a good two decades without adequate nutrition. Shouldn’t that be enough to turn his dick limp forever?

“Come over tomorrow, then. We’re doin’ a little memorial thing in the back of the house of worship. That young doctor’s idea, actually. She put the idea forward at the last council meeting. Thinks it’ll help people to have something physical to remember their people by.”

Young, sweet, and so fucking thoughtful.

Not meant for men like him.

Yet he went the next day.

The topic of Sarah hung in the air around him and Tommy like a fog beyond which they couldn’t see. It sat heavy in his chest, the memory of his baby and worse, everything his shit brain had forgotten. He remembered that she gave him shit, mocked him over everything. But she didn’t have a voice in his head anymore. He could describe the sweetness of her voice, but it no longer sounded out in his mind. No matter how hard he tried.

Her favorite color was purple and she loved soccer. He couldn’t recall the name of her team. She loved reading. He didn’t remember her favorite author. She liked animated movies. He couldn’t remember a single one. Just the vague memory of her falling asleep on his lap as cartoon characters chirped away on tv. Even her face was beginning to blur. When he recalled her features, it was only through images of the last seconds of her life.

“We could just do alphabetical order. Simple.”

“Not really,” you said, scribbling lines on the paper. “We get new people in the town sometimes and we don’t want the names they add to stand out, away from the alphabetically ordered list. Might make them feel bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about age?” Tommy suggested.

“Still the same problem. It would force newcomers to have their own separate list at the bottom.”

“How about a first come first serve system? We tell people when we’re taking names down for the memorial and they can come over, form a queue and give us the names they want included. That way, people can keep the names of the people they love in one spot on the memorial instead of having it scattered all over because of age or alphabetical order.”

“What do you think, Joel?” Tommy asked, making him fold his arms over his chest and sigh. He didn’t give a shit. But that wasn’t the most amicale thing to say when someone was trying to do an objectively good deed. Unlike the other people in this town, he didn’t deserve to add the names of his people to a memorial. He failed in protecting them. He didn’t deserve to mourn like he wasn’t the reason they went into early graves.

“Yeah, ‘s good. I agree.” He said, finding no faults with your proposal to order the names of the deceased by the order in which people gave it to ‘em. He didn’t know why he was being asked all this. It wasn’t like he was on the council like them. He was just takin’ measurements when he got dragged into this.

“How many names do you think we’ll get?” Tommy asked him in yet another attempt to get him involved.

Taking pity on his brother, he began a rough estimate of the number of names they’d get for the memorial and how much surface area they’d need for carving them in. “Six hundred people in town. Babies don’t have names to give. Kids wouldn’t have too many and if they had any, it would be on their parents’ list too. How many kids in this town?”

It was a fucking nightmare, sitting there at the table with you and doing calculations when all he wanted was to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to his place. Make you pose like you were posing in front of your mirror that day. Like women in those porno magazines he sneaked into his teenage bedroom and jerked off to. The fuck were you even thinking? Door left open, tits out, fingers in your cunt and his fucking name on your lips.

Did you notice him at your door and decided it would be a fun trick to play on an old man? Or did you always scream his name when you fucked yourself? When was the first time? Did you always come so prettily on your own fingers like you came on his? Being in the dark drove him crazy. But part of him felt that getting the answers would drive him absolutely fucking insane.

The thought alone was enough to make him feel uncomfortable in his pants. He adjusted himself on his seat and looked away from you, afraid that somehow you’d be able to tell that he was having improper thoughts about you when you were talking about honoring the dead. If thinking about you sexually in a church was bad, he was sure it was worse to think it when you were trying to help people memorialize their dead.

You had an air of innocence about you. The brightness of your eyes and the way you moved your hands about as you planned the details of this memorial and scribbled them out on your little notebook. He’d been attracted to that innocence from the very start. A rare thing to find out in the world. When even babies were born into violence and oppression, innocence was a luxury no one even thought to acquire.

A virgin, too.

His cock twitched in his pants. He gulped and looked around to check if anyone had caught his shameless response. Nope.

He was surprised you were a virgin. For all your innocence, you were also fucking beautiful. There were plenty of guys in town. Ladies too, if you liked that. Anyone would’ve snatched you up quick and made sure to show you a world of pleasure. It didn’t take him long knowing you to give in to temptation. It was fucking impossible that no man had worshipped with his head between your thighs. That no man who saw you in your pretty little dresses bent you over and filled you up with his cock.

You were beautiful. Even more so when you came on his fingers. Made all those pretty little sounds. The way you said his name… Nobody had said it like that in such a long time. Not even Tess.

It rang in his head whenever he found himself alone at home. Being in possession of your panties didn’t help matters. White cotton. Innocent. Covered in your dried up release. When he left that day, he made sure to suck on his fingers. Moaned like a fucking creep while going down your stairs. Eyes closed, he could still taste you on his tongue. After so many days. A little tangy with a hint of salt from your sweat and all woman.

It had been embarrassingly long since he felt like a man. He’d been father, brother, smuggler, and father again. But long since he was just man. Never someone desirable. Out there, sex was just for release. Purely biological. The end of the fucking world did not afford good hygiene. You fucked someone because they were the safest option. Not because you were attracted to them.

You, however… You had others in this town. You were here before him. Younger, smarter, with a body that worked perfectly fucking well. You could have anyone but it was his name you were moaning out in the privacy of your room.

He grunted as your voice crept back into his mind. The ‘Joel, please’, and the ‘Sir’.

He grabbed on to the railing as his thighs trembled, afraid he would have an embarrassing fall. His breaths grew quicker and his mind void of everything but you.

On your knees. On your back. On your front so he could fuck you from behind. Your hand around his cock. Your lips stretched out around him as you struggled with his size. Fistful of your hair as you begged for release. Please, Sir. Please, Joel. The heat of your tight velvety cunt. Tears blurring your wide eyed innocence as he stretched out your rear hole. He wanted to take you everywhere, leave you burning with him. Mark you so deep every man you let in after you would know who fucked you first.

It didn't take long. The mental images of you were far too effective. His last time was too long ago. He was too old to last. Too old to want you. Somehow the reminder only pushed him further along. Sticky white cum coated your panties, mixing your scent with his. The mirror showed him a reflection of himself. Old, gray, crow’s feet by his eyes. He dropped your panties in the hamper, the warmth of his own release on his hand and the shame on his face sobering him up quickly.

He wanted to teach you sin. But you had taught him more of it already than you would ever know.

⌘

“Cool jacket, dude!”

“Uh…thanks. I traded for it years ago” you said, digging your thumb nail between the teeth of the zipper. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it worked well on cold nights that weren’t cold enough to warrant a sweater. “Is Joel in? I need to talk to him about a building project.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I mean, he was awake half an hour ago when I left, but he could be in dreamland by now. Cause he’s old.”

“Ah. Of course,” you said, smiling awkwardly at the girl. Joel’s kind of, sort of daughter. You were closer to her than Joel in age. You rolled the memorial plan tighter and tighter, your hands needing to be occupied with something as your mind reeled at the inappropriateness of your desires.

“I’ll make sure I don’t wake him up,” you said before leaving the girl to return to her group of friends.

He was old enough to be your father. It should disgust you, scare you. Maybe it would’ve if you’d had an actual father in your life. A point of reference to know how vile a man of that age would have to be to want a girl your age. You tried to force some disgust into your veins, hoping that would help in putting out the fire in you that threatened to consume you whole. But it was hard to convince yourself that this was wrong when he’d made you feel so good.

Your fingers had become inadequate overnight. If his fingers were so powerful over you… You shuddered to think what he could do for you with his penis. It had to feel better. The organ was made for it, unlike fingers.

You stopped outside his door and knocked without giving it a single thought. If you’d thought about it, you would’ve fled. It had already taken you hours to muster up the courage to make the walk to his house with the draft sketches for the memorial. You wouldn’t let your desperation ruin it.

He looked surprised to see you, mouth opening and closing as though he’d forgotten how to process language. His dark brown curls and the silver that decorated it sat messily atop his head. Like he’d run his fingers through it. An old t-shirt stretched over his chest and struggled against his arms. A pair of dark sweatpants sat on his hips, the drawstrings hanging in the front.

“Hey? Uh…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing a hand up to his face and scratching his beard. Why was that hot? You had to be out of your fucking mind.

You cleared your throat and looked up into his eyes. “Does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never come here, so I thought…”

“I’m here about the memorial plans. I have a few designs I want to run by you,” you said, holding up the rolled up sheets of paper.

“Ah. That. Sure, uh come in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to allow you passage. You looked around his house, careful to seem disinterested so he didn’t have more reasons to think you were a stupid little girl pining after him just because he made you come once.

Shit. He probably already thought that.

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me.”

You swallowed at the reminder as he led you to the dining table and offered you a seat. You looked around while he cleared the table. Plates, tools, some worn out novels. So he was the messy sort. You didn’t know who you would be if you’d had the chance to just be. You didn’t know if you would leave things lying around like that if you’d had a normal start to life. Like Joel. Like the others who were old enough to remember life before the cordyceps.

The place didn’t scream Joel Miller. There were no personal artifacts decorating his living room. No framed art. No books. No throw pillows or even a blanket on the couch.

You knew what it was like to have nothing in your house. When you were still new to the town and it hadn’t hit you yet that you were allowed to have your own things. Collect stuff and not worry about having too many things to carry with you when you had to run. You didn’t own anything you couldn’t fit into your backpack. And you took that backpack everywhere when you managed to step outside your new house.

But over time, you’d decorated your house. People you helped out at the clinic often gave you things as a token of their gratitude. Kids drew pictures for you. A lady once gave you the art off her wall that the previous owner had put up. Tommy and Maria gave you a new sweater that she’d knit when she was pregnant. New yarn from new wool from the town’s sheep. The first time you ever got something truly new.

“No decorations, huh?”

“What?”

“You don’t have any decorations here,” you pointed out again and licked your lips nervously.

“Uh, yeah. Not really the priority. Have’ta trade wisely. Can’t be gettin’ pictures when ya need bread.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But you don't have to trade for it, you know? You could put up something of what’s in the house already. Surely the previous owners left some stuff.”

“They did. Traded ‘em all for things we need. Fresh fruits, bullets, that kinda shit.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be framed art. You could cut up a nice picture from a magazine or something.”

Joel looked up from the plans, head tilted and an eyebrow raised. Shit! Of course he thought you were talking about your magazines with the naked women.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you said, your voice coming out squeaky. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and looked down at the plans.

“Let’s discuss the plans,” he said, his voice all gruff and his tone so stern.

“I-I- uh… May I use your restroom?” you asked, unable to look him in the eye after what you’d said. After how he’d reacted. You really didn’t mean it like that. But you could see why that would be hard to believe when the last time he saw you, you had a box full of those men’s entertainment magazines on your bed and one open in front of you as you touched yourself.

Touched yourself and moaned his name.

“Upstairs, second door to the left.”

You squeaked out a thanks before you bolted out of his dining room and made your way up the stairs. There were two bathrooms. One decorated with band posters and a poster of a girl with weirdly cut black hair sitting on a motorcycle. Had to be Ellie’s. The second door to the left was another bathroom. Joel’s, apparently. There was just one bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a pot of toothpaste. No shampoo bar. You pulled the toilet seat and lid down before taking a seat.

You let out a groan and planted your face in your hands. Why the hell did you have to go and make it awkward like it wasn’t already that way. After he made you come that day, he’d refused to be anywhere near you. You hoped it was just coincidence, but after over a week it became undeniable that he was avoiding you.

He probably thought you were going to catch feelings. A girl in one of the romance novels you read fell in love with a guy who took her virginity. And there was the time you overheard this guy talking about not wanting to sleep with a girl because she was a virgin. He was afraid she would catch feelings and get clingy.

Now here you were in his bathroom because you thought it was wise to make small talk and ended up insinuating he should put up dirty pictures on his wall. You could scream. But you wouldn’t. There was already enough awkwardness with him.

You could always jump out of the window and run off to your house. Never speak of this again. Pretend nothing happened if Joel tried to talk to you about it. But something told you that he wouldn’t. He would probably be happy if he never had to interact with you again. You had been acting desperate. He caught you touching yourself moaning his name, for fuck’s sake!

Your hands, permanently dry from all the times you scrubbed them clean for your patients, found some moisture from your salty tears. It was embarrassing, sitting in the bathroom of a guy who wanted nothing to do with you after you scared him off with your stupid little infatuation.

You were a grown woman. Still young, but too old to be acting like this. You should have some experience already. Not sniffling over a man more than twice your age. He was right. He had been a grown man with experience longer than you’d been alive. Of course he wanted nothing to do with you.

The window looked more and more attractive as the seconds passed. It had been a while since you did something like that. You didn’t need to jump out of buildings or trees anymore. You didn’t go on patrols like some residents. With no need to fight for your life and having all the food you could need to never go hungry even once, you’d become a little unfit. If you broke a bone jumping out of Joel’s bathroom window, there would be questions. And everyone would know. You’d have to avoid the whole town instead of just Joel.

You’d just have to face it. Even if facing it was doing as little as just bidding him goodbye and bolting out of his house without an explanation. You got off his toilet and pressed the flush just so he didn’t think you were weird. Like it fucking mattered. He already found you weird and desperate.

You washed your hands, letting the water wash away the tears on your hands before wiping your wet hands over your face in an attempt to remove traces of your crying.

You should’ve just left after that. Not looked around. Not snooped like a creep. You didn’t ever dig. You didn’t have to look too deep to catch it. But a sliver of white peeked out through the netted walls of the laundry hamper. A sliver of white cotton with a light blue stitch.

Without second thought, you dug into his dirty laundry. You came up with the white cotton fabric, going straight to the gusset where the blue thread stitched the fabric pieces together. The original stitch had given out and you sewed it back together just some time back. The blue thread was all that you had at the time.

As though the sight of your panties in Joel’s bathroom wasn’t jarring enough, next came the smell. Of you. Your cum. You felt practically hear your own heartbeats as you recalled how he’d cleaned you up with your own panties. You recalled that he stuffed the fabric in his pocket as you lied on your bed, pussy still pulsating from his handiwork, brain melted, and life changed forever.

You took another whiff of your panties, goosebumps raising the hairs on your body as you felt it. Your cum and something else. It was still damp.

Blood rushed back up to your face and you felt yourself getting tense.

This fucker. How dare he? You’d been embarrassed just a minute ago over your desires and he was doing this the whole time? Noticing you on the streets and running away for days. Running back to his home where he kept your fucking panties, apparently. Avoiding you for so long only to cum in your panties.

So he wanted you.

If not you, he at least wanted sex. Dirrty old man who liked attention from you, but you weren’t even disgusted. Just angry he was pretending to be better than that. He could’ve used any old rag, but he used your panties.

You brought your defiled panties back up and smelled them again. Strangely, it smelled something like bleach. Or you could be wrong. You’d never… You didn’t know what a man’s release was supposed to smell like. Was it different for each man or did they all smell the same?

Wetness pooled in your panties as you imagined him touching himself. Large rough hand wrapped around himself. Did he think of you when he did it? Think of you naked in your bedroom and taking his fingers? What did his penis look like? What would it feel like? Soft? Rough? You’d wondered about having one inside you, but never about a particular man’s anatomy. But this was Joel. Joel was the only one who’d gotten this far in your head.

He couldn’t deny it to you anymore. If nothing else, you could at least call him out for ignoring you when he was wiping his ejaculate off with your stolen panties.

“Joel!” you called out before your fears could talk you out of confronting him. Unsure if he would’ve heard you, you opened the bathroom door and yelled his name out again. “Joel!”

“What?”

“Come up here!”

“What happened?”

“Just come here.”

You heard him sigh, the sound followed by the typical grunts and groans he made when standing up. Fuckin’ old man, ruining your life. Ruining your self-confidence. Ruining your fucking panties. His heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as he climbed up, the sound getting louder as he got closer to the bathroom.

“Why were you screaming my name like y–” he stopped mid scold, frozen in place by the door as he saw what you had in your hand. He opened and closed his mouth, as though attempting to explain but deciding otherwise. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

“Do you not have rags, Joel?” you taunted, taking a step towards him and enjoying seeing him step back. You felt powerful, moving a large man with just your voice. It was very unlike how he made you feel all the days he ignored you. Weak, insignificant, undesirable.

“You weren’t meant to– Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Which part are you apologizing for? For breaking into my house and touching me? For ignoring me ever since? For stealing my underwear? Or for doing whatever you did with it?”

You moved him out of the bathroom, making him walk backwards in the hallway you hoped led to his bedroom. Even if it didn’t, you’d be fine. You’d exact revenge in any place you can. As long as you got to make him feel the way he made you feel. Pleasure. Shame. Want.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

You took your last step towards him, finally trapping him against a wall. You stood close enough to place your hand on his chest. You licked your lips, the rock hard muscles beneath your touch storing itself away in your mind for later use.

“Imagine what would happen if I told someone? You sister-in-law, perhaps… She hates you, doesn’t she?” You smirked, though you were screaming on the inside. You didn’t know where you got all this courage from. You didn’t know you had it in you to threaten a man as imposing as Joel.

He turned pale, his hands up against the wall in surrender. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t tell you the truth that it was to keep himself from touching you. “Please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do this again, I swear.”

“Maybe I want you to do this again…”

“You don’t. Trust me.”

“Shh!” You said, placing your index finger on his lips. Pink, perfectly shaped, and so damn kissable. “Don’t tell me what I want. You ignored me ever since you walked into my house without my permission and shoved your fingers inside me. I was walking around town believing I wasn’t good enough for big old Joel Miller. What did you say? That you’ve been experiencing longer than I’ve been alive?”

You raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t answer. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Why were you coming in my panties then if I didn't measure up? ”

“I won’t do it ag—” he groaned when you grabbed his cock through his pants. He let out a low grunt and his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck as he swallowed. You replaced your index finger with your thumb, tracing his trembling lips as you lazily stroked his cock with your other thumb.

He filled your whole hand and there was still more. It took everything in you to not moan at the sheer size of him. To not grind your belly against it to feel it against you. You didn’t know how big it was supposed to be, but the romance novels you read always described the big ones as more desirable.

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I asked why. Why did you steal my panties, Joel Miller?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you come on it? Don’t fucking lie to me cause I can fucking smell you on it.”

“I did. I jerked off with it.” You had to choke back a moan at that. No, you had to be strong. Show him you could take the upper hand just like he did with you. You weren’t a little girl with a crush. You were a woman and you could have this effect on a grown man. You refused to be discounted with a pat on your pussy no matter how much you wanted him to touch you like that again.

“Mmm. And that’s enough to get you going. Just a pair of my panties.”

“Mhmm.”

“Show me how you did it.”

“What?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

“Show. Me. How you did it.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, his hand coming up to stroke the base of his neck. “Wh-What?”

You felt your heart thud against your ribs and if you didn’t know from experience and your textbooks, you’d have been afraid that he could hear it. You’d never done anything so daring. You were the timid girl when it came to this stuff. That the thought even occurred to you was a testament to how much you desired Joel. Not just to sleep with any guy, but to have Joel. Without a word, you reached under the skirt of your dress and tugged your panties down.

He inhaled sharply as you bent down and came back up with your panties. Undyed white fabric, a little green ribbon in the shape of a bow stitched to the front, gusset a light gray from your wetness.

“Show me. I want to see what you were doing in your bathroom with my panties after ignoring me everyday,” you said, taking his hand and forcing the fabric into it. His hand curled around it and you found yourself feeling lighter. You didn't know how long you could keep up the brave front if he continued to have no response.

“Take your clothes off.”

It was like something changed the moment you gave him the garment. His eyes were on you, his gaze unrelenting. He took a step ahead and you stepped backward. His lips curled up in a smirk. It seemed playtime was over… Like a lion letting the cubs play at predation before taking over to show how hunting was really done.

You didn’t know if you were ready for that… Sure it was nothing he’d never seen before, but it was different. The last time, you didn’t do it with the intention to have him see you. He just happened to see you bare and you didn’t cover up when you realized.

“I don’t have a box full of dirty magazines. I need to see somethin’,” he said, his eyes going down your frame like they had every right to be there. “Or you could leave these,” he said, holding your panties up in front of your eyes, “and run back home. What d’ya say?”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you reached behind to find the zipper of your dress. You weren’t going to run off. Not when you’d been desperate for so long to do something, anything with him. Cold air kissed your back as you pulled the zipper down and the hairs on your body stood up in full attention. You pushed the sleeves off your shoulder and shimmied out of the dress, standing in just your dress in front of him.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked you up and down. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down. He radiated superiority, putting you in some kind of a daze. “Your bra too. Show me your tits.”

The crudeness had more wetness pooling between your legs. You nodded wordlessly, afraid that pathetic whimpers would be the only sound you’d make under his gaze. You reached behind and felt around for the clasp of your bra. With his eyes piercing into you, you failed to find it quickly like you usually did. Your mouth dried up, your tongue sticking to the roof.

He made no effort to help. A mocking smile assumed its place on his lips as he watched you struggle in front of him.

When you finally managed your task and stood fully naked, he stood up straight. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. You felt like a piece of meat placed in front of a starving man. Just seconds ago, you were telling yourself you didn’t need his approval, that this would just be revenge. But as he evaluated your body, your pussy wept with the need for your body to be nothing but what he liked.

“Room’s that way.” He nodded in the direction of the room. You turned around and took small steps, your shoulders curling inward and your head bowed in submission. Every inch of your skin burned with the strength of his gaze.

“Kneel.”

You placed your knee on his bed, ready to climb up.

“On the floor.”

One knee still on his white sheets, you turned around to look at him. He was so large. Imposing. The kind of figure you would follow without question. So, you did.

“You look pretty on your knees.”

He took a few steps towards you, stopping when the distance had your neck straightening to look up at him. Large, powerful, imposing. Another step and you were face-to-face with his crotch. His bulge was right there.

“Go on, take it out. Since you wanted it so bad.”

Joel didn’t think you would do it. You looked even smaller kneeling at his feet. Meek little thing. He didn’t at all expect you to taunt him the way you did. Especially after you threatened to tell on him to Maria. He fully expected you to start crying. Guess he really underestimated you. Virgin didn’t necessarily mean innocent.

Yet you folded as soon as he took the reins. He saw the change in you right when he told you to take your clothes off. When your eyes went from determined to defeated. All that spunk evaporated to reveal the little girl underneath. He liked it like that. Made him feel like a real man. Not that there was any scarcity of masculinity in his life of taking out clickers and defending this town. But somethin’ about a beautiful woman accepting his authority did the trick faster than every other display of masculinity.

Your hands fiddled with his belt, trembling as you tried to take it off. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. “Just undo the zip.”

No way he was going to get naked in front of a pretty little twenty something. It wasn’t anything great to look at even before he began a life of violence and traversing the wilderness. Sure he was well built from all the hard physical labor and constant fight for survival. It’d left several unappealing scars on his person. Time had done a number on him too. Especially his pudgy belly. It didn’t help that food flowed free in Jackson, fattening him up a little.

Thankfully, you listened. You looked up, as though you expected him to complete the task for him. He challenged you with a look. Wanna be a big girl so bad, act like one.

You reached inside his pants and took his cock out. Your lips parted and he heard you inhale through your mouth. His cock hung in front of him, hard from your teasing. He had to give it to you, you were daring for a meek little thing. No one in town would believe him if he told them all that you’d done. And he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Not too late to back out, you know?” he said, wrapping his hand around himself. It took everything in him to give you an out. As much as he wanted to grab your face, force your mouth open and make you gag around him, he was man enough to let you know you didn’t have to do anything. Young girl probably bit more than you could swallow. And seeing his cock and your mouth so close by showed that he was definitely nothing you could swallow.

“I’m not backing out.”

“First time seeing one?”

“Of course not. I work at the clinic. You think I haven’t seen a penis?”

“No anatomical terms. I ain’t your patient. Go on, touch my cock.”

You reached up for him, but he stepped back, delighting himself in the disappointment on your face. “Come on, you want a man so bad, work for it.”

You moved to stand up. “Did I say you could stand up?”

“No.”

“Then get back on your fucking knees.”

You dropped to your knees and he groaned in satisfaction. The euphoria of wielding power over someone rushed through his veins. And he wanted more. It was the same sick satisfaction he got when he beat men to death. When he broke bones and dressed animals he hunted in the wild. “Good girl. You’re going to listen to what I say. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fuck! That fucking word again.

“Come on, come get it. Hands and knees. Crawl to me.”

He beckoned you forward with one hand, his other still on his cock. You bent over and god fucking damnit, you were a vision. You were an eager girl and he could see what you could become in the right hands. His hands. The things he could show you… Introduce you to your own body. Bring you pain and pleasure that were indistinguishable.

Your tits hung from your chest, swaying as you crawled towards him. Feverish, bright eyes followed him as he continued to refuse what you wanted. Too fucking late. He warned you. Told you men like him weren’t for pretty little things like you. But you didn’t fucking want to listen. Now you’d have to deal with the consequences. Maybe you’d stay away then.

“Please, Sir,” you whined so prettily he almost gave in.

“What are you begging for?”

“You. Y-your penis.”

“My cock,” he corrected. “Say it.”

“Your cock, Sir.”

“Good girl. C’mere,” he said, giving you a nod to come closer. You crawled to him and when he didn’t back away, sat up on your knees. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and gripped your hair, making you hiss. Holding you in place, he brought his cock to your face. You looked up at it, your eyes widening and your mouth slackening. You brought your hand up and touched his tip with just your thumb. The rest of your hand followed, wrapping around him. He gasped silently as you stroked his slit with your thumb, making him leak precum on you.

“Did…? Did you?”

“No. Gotta do more ‘n that to make me come. That’s precum.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t think you knew what precum was. Probably not the focus of your education here. Not the most important thing when townsfolk came in injured after patrols or suffering from a fever that was life threatening without the medicines of the past.

He pressed his cock against your cheek. The sight presented a visual of how you’d struggle if you took him in your mouth. He’d have you choking on him before you even took half. He twitched against your face at the mere thought. You were the picture of innocence, even with his cock on your face. Even with the stunt you pulled before he put you back in your place.

“Think I’ll just do this. Fuck your pretty face.”

You whimpered, spurring him on. He wanted to force himself inside you, punish your mouth for having the gall to speak to him the way you did. Make you cry from how full of him you were. Give you a sore throat so when you spoke to him again, you’d remember to speak with respect. But you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he’d settle for defiling your sweet features, hold his cock against your cheek and rut like the animal he was.

“I ain’t gonna lay you out on my bed and take you nice and slow. I’m just gonna use you. ‘s what men like me do.”

He pulled away, giving you another opportunity to rethink this. “You can put your fucking clothes on and leave if you don’t like it.”

To his surprise, you stayed put on your knees. You shook your head before reaching up and rubbing your cheek against his cock. You let out a soft moan, eyes closed and your thighs pressed together tight. “No, no. I like it.”

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, his hand back in your hair. He tugged at it and took his cock in his other hand. He tapped your lips with his tip, smearing the precum that leaked out of him. “You like an older man using your face like it’s a pussy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He snorted, amused. “Never met a virgin slut before. Getting your face fucked before your pussy. Bet you’re wet from this.”

There was the sweet little whimper from you again. He wanted to hear more of it. Trap you underneath him and make you weep and cry and whimper as he split you in half.

“Let me see. Touch your pussy, show me your slick.”

You obeyed, spread your knees and touched yourself. Your hand glistened under the light of his bedroom, your wetness stretching between your fingers in strings. “Goddamn, would you look at that…” he said in a low rumble. “Rub it on my cock.”

Your hand trembled slightly and you stared at him with a blank look in your eyes. He guided your hand to his cock, withdrawing his hand when he’d brought you close enough so you could decide whether you wanted to follow his command. You touched your slickened hand to his cock, covering him in the evidence that you wanted this. Wanted him. You reached between your legs and brought more of yourself, eyes soft yet glazed with lust as you smeared yourself all over his length.

“Ask me for it.”

“Please,” you whined.

“Please, what?”

“P-please fuck my face. Sir.”

He returned his cock to your cheek, your wetness lubricating your face. Hand cradling his cock, he began to thrust. It wasnt much different from fucking his own fist. It was just skin. Not the tight velvety wetness of a pussy or a throat that would gag with his thickness. But your face was softer than his gun callused hands. Even better was your pretty face, looking up at him so adoringly… So full of desire.

He didn’t have to let his imagination do the trick now. Not when you were right in front of him, lending yourself for his use. And no imagination, no memory did justice to you. Your body. Scarred, but beautiful. Tits that filled his large hands, clean and styled hair, a belly that showed you were well fed. He wanted to lay you out on his bed and consume you. Take your tits in his mouth, grab handfuls of your ass, spread your cunt lips and lodge himself inside you. Give it to you hard so your thigh jiggled and you felt them ache as they rubbed against each other when you walked around in your pretty little dresses.

But as depraved as he was, he knew he shouldn’t be the first to take you. He’d have you just this once. Store your image in his head to get off with for as long as his dick worked. You acted all brave, but he couldn’t shake off that you were still inexperienced. The first time was meant to be good. The world was no longer normal, but you could have normality within the insular walls of Jackson.

Even this was wrong. Using you like this instead of making sweet love to you. But he hadn’t been that man in a long time. He was selfish and cruel. If there was no town, no community where everyone knew everyone and you still threw yourself at him, he would’ve taken you in all your holes with no hesitation. Ruined you, kept you until your body wasn’t of use and tossed you aside. But being in this semi-normal place had gotten its claws into him. Softened him up.

He grew closer to the edge embarrassingly quickly, the haze of carnal pleasure beginning to muffle the voices screaming in his head to let you go. He only barely noticed that you were touching yourself. Enjoying this treatment of you. That spurred him on. There was no stopping now.

You let out soft moans, your eyes never once leaving him. He struggled to get himself to focus. To check for any signs you didn’t want this. But all he saw was you on the precipice of pleasure. The world disappeared. His house, Jackson, the darkness that lay beyond. It was all him now. He felt lighter, like he would float out through the window and everything he’d ever been through would disappear. Every ounce of goodness quietened down, the last shreds of his morality discarded with your dress. He grunted and moaned your name as he kept fucking you. Your features morphed into nothingness. No longer a face, no longer a human woman. All he knew was the ache in his body, the tightness that begged to be released.

He slapped a hand against the wall as his thighs stiffened and every muscle in the vicinity of his cock tightened. He took himself back in his hand and stroked himself over your face. Once, twice, and thr– mid stroke, he growled and spilled on your face, coating your innocent features in sticky white cum. You flinched as the first stream hit, screwing your eyes shut. He wanted to make you look, see how he could defile you, show you that he wasn’t for you. Force you to confront what you’d allowed into your life so you’d run and never look back.

But all he could do was keep stroking as he came down from his high. It was unlike anything he’d had in the recent past. Not his imagination, not just his hand. A real human woman who wasn’t just a convenience. One who sought him out, stripped for him, and let him use her face like a toy.

He took a minute to collect his breath and let his senses return to him. His cock hung semi-hard outta his jeans, like it could go again if he willed it. Like it wasn’t almost six decades old. But he wasn’t too surprised. He could go again for the utterly debauched girl in front of him. Innocence eclipsed by milky white ropes of his cum. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hair and pulled at it. You yelped, but let him pull you up from the ground and drag you to the other side of the room.

He stopped you in front of his mirror, and slapped your hand off your pussy before replacing it with his. “Look at yourself. I fucking told you,” he said, forcing two thick fingers inside your cunt. You sucked him in with little resistance, your cunt leaking enough for him to force a third finger inside you. You gasped and tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having it. He was a fucking monster, but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially a young thing who’d never had anyone else before.

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, his half hard cock begging him to go again when he felt the vibrations of your moans. “I warned you,” he whispered into your ear. “Fuckin’ warned you. Told you how starved I was. And you still taunted me. Look at you now!”

“Please… Please, Joel! Sir, please…”

“Fuckin’ slut. Maybe you ain’t really a virgin.”

“I am, I am, I promise. I wa–” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he pressed his thumb on your clit.

“What was that?”

You made some incoherent noises, too far gone to form words. Yet you managed to thrust onto his fingers and roll your hips like a real natural.

“Joel…”

“I know, pretty girl… I know,” he cooed, the softness in his voice contradicting how he’d used you just minutes prior. Contradicting the cum on your pretty little face.

“You gonna come for me? Give me another one after you came so sweetly on my fingers that day?”

There were no answers from you. Not even an acknowledgement that you heard him. Just whines and moans as you let him support your entire weight. Your head lolled back on his shoulder and your eyes rolled back into your skull as he fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Oh the things he could do with his cock… Reach deeper, take the virginity you’d held on to for so long. If he ever had you, he would never let go. He was too selfish a man to willingly lose a girl so precious after taking her cunt.

You gripped him like a vice, so tight he couldn't pry his fingers out. Something that vaguely sounded like his name spilled from your lips as you crumpled in his arms. Your pussy pulsated around you as he held you against him, unwilling to remove himself from you so quickly.

He withdrew your panties from his pocket– the fresh pair you took off in his fucking hallways like it was no big deal. He wiped your face with it the same way he cleaned up your cunt that day. Instead of tucking it in his pocket, he forced it into your hand.

“Put it on. Your fucking dress, too. Hope you learned you fucking lesson.”

As you put it on and scampered away naked into his hallways, he hoped it would be enough to scare you away. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he would always crave you like an addict craving a drink.

⌘

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 28] || [Chapter 30]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: they're very sick... poor babies

Chapter 29: Taking Turns

The next couple of days were rough.

Between:

Kyle unable to bend down or stand straight for too long before his hip protested;

John unable to stretch himself in any direction due to his lower back hurting;

Johnny limping from his knee and with an arm on a sling;

and Simon having… not quite the flu but something? and getting dizziness spells every time he moved…

You haven’t gotten any proper rest either and have been running back and forth trying to help care for all of them.

They try their best to help, really… But the amount of groans, winces, and strained voices you hear whenever Kyle tries to make you all food, John tries to bend down to help with laundry, Simon tries to sweep, or Johnny tries to do anything two-handed… It’s hard.

Your flat suddenly feels too small for them, for you.

Haven’t slept in your bed the whole weekend… But hey, at least you get to cuddle Simon all night every night. He’s like your own heater…

It comes to a head on Monday morning. You’ve gotta get to work… It hurts you to leave them like that, all alone, all day, in the state they’re in.

“So… there’s the spare key-” You handed the spare to John who had tried his best to be up with you for breakfast, leaning himself on the wall by the front door as you talk in hushed tones, Simon sleeping barely a couple feet away on the couch, actually getting rest.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine-”

“John…” You murmured as you looked up at him, your face showing nothing if not a deadpan inquiry. “You’re all dying.”

“We’re not dying. We were but we’re doing so much better after having you dote on us all weekend, darling.” He replied with a playful smile, which was cut through by a little wince that made his blue eyes press shut.

“Right.” You retorted and rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve gotten so much better, huh?” You taunted and shook your head.

“It’s fine… we’ve got… 3 or so functioning pairs of legs, 2 spines, 3 and a half pairs of arms and 3 working heads…” He trailed off, humourously listing the unaffected parts of their ailments.

“Ah yes… And somehow none of you are functional at all.” You teased again, smiling playfully, receiving a sigh and a conceding in the shape of an eye roll from him.

“Anyways,” You told him as you cupped his face. “You get back to bed… And try not to die, all of you. This flat isn’t mine, I don’t think you should die in here.” You added.

“Copy that.” John nodded with a chuckle which drew another wince from him. He kissed your forehead lightly then limped his way back to bed.

You had just gone on your lunch break when you shot the lads a message to check on their state:

you: how r u all doing? 👀

By the time you came back from lunch, you hadn’t gotten a reply to your text… And normally that wouldn’t worry you…

If it weren’t for the fact they’re bunked down in your flat because they’re all injured or sick.

You went back to work with your phone in your pocket, patiently waiting a text from them…

you: pls tell me ur alive

Even with that message, it still took another hour and a half for an answer to come.

You were about to jump ship and go home early by then, when Johnny answered you.

Johnny: souo you: what? Johnny: soup Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]

The video you got was not one you expected.

Firstly, it was a very zoomed in 10 seconds of one of your metal pots with a heeping quantity of chicken noodle soup boiling in it.

Then, the camera panned over to display Kyle, John and Simon sprawled on the couch, head’s dangling back over the edge, snoring away.

“We made soup… bonnie.” Johnny said from behind the camera, his voice groggy and dragging, a consequence of the strong painkillers he had been taking for the last 3 days after his gunshot.

“Gonna have seconds… it’s so good…” He announced in a conspiratory tone and shushed the video before he finished the video.

How they managed to force themselves to stand up and stay awake long enough to cook a whole pot worth of soup, you have no idea.

But, hey, at least they were alive. And that eased your worries.

And so, you got back to work, finishing your work day.

Coming back to work, you were surprised to find the flat in a similar state as when you left, which was surprising considering you expected a mess of dishes and food left for you to clean.

The boys had also moved from the couch and to the bedroom, their snores and heavy breaths coming from down the hall, as well as the sound of the shower running.

You closed the door carefully behind yourself, took off your shoes and padded over to the kitchen with the little shopping bag worth of things you bought after work.

Just as you’re about to start putting things in the fridge and cupboards, a figure show up at the kitchen door, making you jump a bit and huff a breath of surprise.

Turning to look at him, eyes wide and startled, you come face-to-face with a glistening wet Kyle wrapped in your last clean towel. There you go, needing to do more laundry again.

“Hi, Kyle… Didn’t hear you come in.” You admitted with a smile as you looked at him.

“Hey, lovie… How was work?” He murmured as he approached you and kissed you softly on the forehead. He certainly seemed a bit more mobile than yesterday when you put him to bed.

“It was good… I see you boys made yourselves right at home, huh?” You gestured vaguely to the pot of soup on the back of the stove, lidded to keep for later.

“Yeah… John had the idea… Sent Soap to the shops to get the chicken and the carrot and all…” He trailed off as he nuzzled himself against you, an arm wrapped around your waist as he rubbed his nose against the crown of your head.

“I see… He was able to carry everything one handed?” You asked playfully, earning a chuckle from Kyle.

“Surprisingly yes…” He trailed off and smiled as he lowered his head to steal a soft peck from your lips.

“What about cooking? Who did that?” You asked playfully as you returned the kiss, then, slipped away from his arm wrapped around you. You resumed putting things away in the cupboards and fridge.

“We took turns…” Kyle admitted a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Every 10 minutes we’d switch spots with each other and sit on the couch…” He trailed off and chuckled.

“I see… I can imagine how that went… the four of you lot wobbling back and forth between the kitchen and the sofa… leaning your head on the cupboard because of the pain while you TRIED to shred chicken and stir the soup and all?” You joked.

“It was miserable… But the soup’s really good…” Kyle admitted.

“Yeah, bet it is… Johnny sent me a text about it…” You added with a chuckle. “Now how about you dry yourself up and get dressed before you catch something, hm?”

“Or you could warm me up instead…” Kyle quipped and winked at you.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader

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blacknailsandheartbreak · 3 months

Text

Imagine Zuko is working at the Jasmine Dragon and you are a regular :)

I love the small town coffee shop/ cafe feel, and when you throw in a romance trope- I will smother that MF in butter and eat it for my final meal. I love my grump x sunshine tropes, if you couldn’t tell.

This one isn’t really following a proper timeline or story, cuz I’m not using Zuko and Irohs fake names and they really are just chillin in that tea shop for this story, BUT just a fluffy idea I really like. Anywho, fluffy and some steam ;) that gets steamy. (WINK WINK)

WC: ~2100 words

So let’s imagine…

Age of Admission: 18 and Wrinkled

Zuko is a server at the Jasmine Dragon tea shop owned by his Uncle Iroh. It became super popular very fast and you thought you would check it out. You walk in one morning and come to meet the owner, he introduces himself as Iroh. He is very kind and as you two talk, you find it is only himself and his nephew who work there. Iroh points out his nephew and when you turn to look where he motions, a figure disappears into the back. You thank Iroh for his kindness and say you cannot wait to come back. You would end up becoming a regular that would come in and read for a long time when the shop was quiet but leave when it got busy.

When you would come in, Zuko was always conveniently the one to help you. He would take your order, he would give you your tea and come by your table to check if you needed anything. He was nonchalantly cold to you but… not…? You would always smile and thank him and try to make small conversation, but Zuko never really engaged, he wasn’t rude and would agree with you then quickly move on. But over time, you noticed Zuko never stopped at any of the other tables to check on them, only yours.

Over time it is very apparent that Zuko has the biggest soft spot for you but tries not to show it. He constantly stares at you, but glances away before he gets caught. Iroh obviously takes notice fairly quickly and tries talking with Zuko, but it is short lived. Iroh comments “You two would complement each other quite well. Not to mention the smile she brings out of you, now that's quite the achievement.” Zuko only rolls his eyes as he walks into the back.

On another day you had been sitting for almost an hour finishing your second cup of tea, in the last few chapters of your book, Zuko was glancing at you from behind the counter as he dried a teapot. Iroh tried again, “You should talk to her.” Zuko visually tenses, “What?! No! What would I even say??” He said in a harsh whisper. “You are overthinking nephew, she always tries to spark a conversation, just let your conversation rivers flow and intertwine!” Zuko looked at him blandly, Iroh gave a soft smile, “A compliment can go a long way.” Iroh patted his shoulder and went to walk among the tables conversing with the customers.

One day you had stayed particularly later than you had thought as a rush didn’t happen and you were very into your book. Eventually Zuko walks over to you and places down a small dessert, it was some sort of pear tart. You smiled up at Zuko and thanked him for the kind gesture. “Yeah, we are closing soon and there happened to be some left that didn’t sell.” Zuko said. You shot up, not noticing the time, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Can I take it to go?” You say standing and gathering your things, you start apologizing for holding them up but Zuko was only half listening as he looked out the window at the dark street. He was worried about you being out so late and walking home alone. He cuts you off and insists it's fine and to wait till after they close and he would walk you home. Your heart flutters as it was something you knew you wanted but didn’t realize how badly. You smile and nod your head in thanks, but Iroh had overheard and insisted that Zuko could head out now as he could close himself.

Zuko and yourself walked along the main street, the night was dark but the street lamps lit your way. You hold your book with both hands in front of you as you talk about what happened in the many chapters you read tonight. Zuko and you walk side by side, you smile as you explain the events, Zuko listens but is watching around for anything to be cautious of. You both make it back to your apartment and you thank Zuko for the kind gesture and offer him to come in. To your dismay he declines, you were sad as he turned away and waved goodnight, knowing it was out of good chivalry. After what felt like the longest walk home of his life, Zuko returns to the tea shop. Iroh welcomes Zuko back and asks how it went, Zuko snapped “Do you stick your nose into everyone’s business, or just mine?” Iroh looked at Zuko for a moment, “She asked you to stay, didn’t she?” Zuko scrunched his nose and didn’t reply, he walked back to his room.

You had come down with a cold and didn’t return to the tea shop for a couple days. But little to your knowledge, through those couple days Zuko found himself waiting for you to walk through the front doors. He found himself looking at the door every time someone walked through but disappointment cooling his veins when it wasn’t you.

After almost a week goes by you show up again, Iroh welcomes you back warmly and insists your regular order will be out swiftly before walking into the back. You smile and take a seat, pulling out your book, not long after Zuko is at your table with your tea. Zuko makes a comment about your absence and you explain how you had gotten a cold and then tease him about missing you. Zuko starts to try and back track his comment, you can see a bit of embarrassment peek through as he tries to cover up his feelings that showed through his concern of you missing. You decide to take a leap and try to show him it's ok. “Well, I missed your company too.” you said warmly, as Zuko composed, someone walked in and up to the counter. Zuko added it was nice to have you back before heading to serve the customer.

A rush started that afternoon so you marked your place in your book, paid and left. You spent some time in the market and on your route home you passed the tea shop. You walked by slowly to see Zuko sweeping by the front door, he looked up and questioned why you were out so late. You smiled and explained about the market, told him about the shops and liveliness. While you were talking Iroh pops out from the back mid question for zuko, but pauses when he sees you. He exclaimed how nice it was to see you again with a warm smile walking to you and Zuko. You return the gesture and brief him about the market that you explained to Zuko. Iroh agreed it sounded fun and insisted You show Zuko, all closing was basically done and could finish up by himself.

You and Zuko made your way to the market and walked around, there were many food stands, flower stands, jewelry stands, fabric stands, anything you name it was probably there. As you both walked and you talked, a cool breeze started setting in so you looped your arm through Zukos and walked closer to him, commenting on his warmth. Zuko only hummed and continued on with you, even though his heart was totally a butterfly exhibit at that moment. Once the market was fully explored, Zuko offered to walk you home again as it was very late and he should get you home.

Once again you both ended up on your apartment door step. You thanked him for a great night and him walking you back, you unlocked and opened your door, offering again for Zuko to come in. Zuko starts to insist he leaves but you cut him off with a kiss. Zuko was surprised for only a split second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your waist. You pull away and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Please, stay for a bit”. He looked at you, “Are you sure?” he asked, keeping his hold on your waist, your shirt parted slightly from your pants and the warmth of his hand hummed against your skin. You held his gaze while you grabbed his hand, taking him inside.

Once you were both in, you handed Zuko the keys, he closed the door and locked it. The second he turned around you moved in, you placed your hand on his jaw and chest. Zuko lavished in your kiss and put his hands on the small of your waist, bringing you in as close as possible. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, but craved more. You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull up, Zuko releases you and grabs his shirt, yanking it off quickly, returning to your lips. But this time his hands didn’t fall on your waist, they reached to the back of your thighs, hiking you up with ease as pleasant yelp of surprise from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The kiss was so hot you pulled away, your head falling to the side as Zuko moved to kiss your jaw and neck. “Zuko…~ah!” He hummed in response, “Zuko, bedroom… behind us…” Zuko promptly moves to the door you mention, pushing it open with his foot, stepping in and swiftly closing it with a firm but gentle kick.

Zuko set you down on the bed, you eagerly took off your shirt and you laid chest bare, not having worn underclothing today. Zuko’s hands were immediately on your torso, and chest. As Zuko kissed along your neck and collar bone, you scrape your nails down his shoulders and slide your hands along his arms, feeling the lean build of his muscle. Zuko asks if this is ok, what you both were doing, you wasted no time in confirming you were more than ok with it. You grab the waist line of his pants and pull him close, he grunts and pushes himself further against you, you gasp. Zuko goes to remove your pants, you raise your hips to quicken the process. You now laid bare before Zuko, everything for him to see. You could feel the vulnerability creep in and the natural urge to cover, but you knew you were comfortable and this is what you wanted. Your hands worked his trousers and slid them off. Zuko stood proud as he hovered over you, laying between your legs. Anticipation slid around your stomach, you kissed deeply, you could feel Zuko at your entrance, you gasped. He leaned back and looked down at where you met, grinning. Pushing forward slightly, his head pushing against your kitten. “~mmh… ah!” You moan out as he pushes further in, Zuko lets out a breath as he rests on elbows over top of you. He pushes in all the way and an audible gasp leaves your mouth as you could swear he hit an organ. He pulls out and slides back in, in the most devilish way of feeling like he is hitting deeper with every thrust. Your eyes roll back as his hips move in the perfect way, feeling his skin against yours, his muscles move against your body. Zuko puts his arms under your knees and spreads your legs wide and pushes them up, giving him better access as well as deeper penetration, which is baffling to you in that second until he continues. Now nothing is going through your mind except Zuko's breath and your moans in the air. You felt a knot in your stomach form, you tapped on his shoulder and told him you were close. He groaned and kept going as you fell apart under him, almost reaching his peak as you became so sensitive you couldn't contain the moans coming from you. But before you could think, he was about to climax. Zuko cursed and pulled out, cumming on your stomach. You both are absolutely racked from the events, Zuko takes a deep breath in, kisses you and says he will be right back. He comes back with a towel, cleaning you up and laying next to you.

You lay on his chest and relax, both being out of breath, Zuko said something that shocked you. He exclaimed how he missed you the week you were home sick, and not at the tea shop. You smiled sweetly and cuddled closer to his warm body, explaining how everyday you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

#prince zuko #zuko #atla #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #atla fanfic #avatar zuko #fluff #smut #grumpy x sunshine

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thebestofoneshots · 9 months

Text

tastes | Marauders x Reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, oral (male receiving), P in V, lots of praise (especially from Remus), Sirius gets all the love he deserves, consent is sexy, lusty!boys, сreаm piе, they literally can't take their eyes off you.

Prompt: Inspired by the sense of taste. Reader has a very strong gag reflex, so the boys have never asked you to blow them, and you love them for it. But today, you want to taste them.

tastes is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand-alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.

18+ readers only (smut under the cut)

Cum Feel The Noize

You had always had pretty strong gag reflex, just brushing your tongue while you brushed your teeth made you want to puкe sometimes, it wasn’t ideal, but it was what you were born with so you settled.

The boys knew, you’d been friends with them long before you started dating, and you had been pretty vocal about it, really, you were just so comfortable with them around that you didn’t mind talking about those things.

“What about sucking a dicк?” Sirius asked, half teasingly, half because he’d been genuinenly curious. He got elbowed by James after asking, but you just laughed.

“Nah, it’s fine,” you told James dismissively “In truth, I’ve never done that.”

“Never, ever? Not even the tip?” Asked James impressed, now curious as well. You shook your head as an answer.

“Not even when you dated that stupid Harland boy?” asked Remus. They all hated Harland because they all liked you, even then, a few months before you started all dating each other.

“Harland?” you asked in disbelief “Hell no! He asked a couple of times but, I just couldn’t do it,” you admitted “I really didn’t want to puкe all over his dicк.”

“Understandable,” Remus nodded.

“Yeah, you’d think. That’s why we broke up tho.”

“What? Shut up!” James said, almost standing straigther.

“No, it’s true!” you said with a nod “He said there were plenty other girls in the market, and that most of them would die just to get the chance to suck him off.”

“And what did you tell him?” Sirius asked.

“To fuck off,” you said with a laugh “didn’t even like him that much anyway,” you said with a sight, “But he’s so petty, he asked me to go see him in one of the abandoned classrooms to give me back some of my stuff, but he had just gotten a girl to blow him there. So when I arrived–”

James gasped, he had his mouth open wide, completely shocked.

“–Poor girl, she was so embarrassed ‘cause she thought we were still dating. Which in hindsight, probably makes is worse. Anyway, he tried to go after me and jinxed him.”

“We thought you stopped dating because he moved away.”

“Nope, he moved away because the girl told all her friends about it and gave him the worst reputation.”

Fast forward to now, you had been dating them for almost a year, and they had, never once, asked you to suck them off, not even by accident, which only made you love them even more, making you realize they truly listened, the difference abysmal between them and Harland, who’d asked hundreds of times, and your boys, who actually cared about you and your limits. And since they also had each other to have fun with it, neither of them missed out on getting blowjobs all that often either. Benefits of being in a poly relationship.

But the boys were always so caring, and so giving, both in and outside of the bedroom, that you really wanted to give back to them. In fact, seeing the way James sucked Remus once, made you want to test it yourself, mouth watering at the thought. You had done your research too, asked your friends about their techniques and paid a lot more attention when they were doing each other, making mental notes of the things they clearly liked and the things they didn’t. For the first time in your life, you actually wanted to try.

So, on Sirius’ birthday, you thought it’d be your chance. The boy had asked Peter for the room and he happily left the three of them to do their thing while going to bunk with his own girlfriend. Remus had been the one to pick you up at your room with the invisibility cloak that day.

“You ready luv?” he asked tenderly when you got out of your room, quickly enveloping you in the cloak as he stood behind you.

“Very ready,” you said with a little smirk, which had Remus raise one of his eyebrows. Did you plan something? That’s definitely your “I’ve planned something” tone.

He dipped his head in the crook of your neck and gave it a short whiff “You’re wearing Sirius’ favourite perfume,” he mouthed, you could feel his lips brushing against your skin, already sending warmth to your core. “What else?”

You smiled mischievously “Nothing else,” you admitted.

A rush of blood went straight to his cock when he heard you say that so confidently, and he finally peaked from his spot in your neck, looking through the thin white shirt you were wearing, he could see your nipple perking underneath the fabric, marking it ever so slightly. “Fuck, dove you’re such a tease.”

You shrugged, turning to press a kiss to his cheek, realizing how blown out his pupils were already, “You know how much Sirius loves it.”

He slid his hands under your skirt, only feeling the outside of your tight, all the way to your waist, as if trying to feel if you really had nothing underneath at the bottom. “Yeah, he’s not the only one,” he grunted, digging his digits a little, just below your pelvis. You pressed yourself to him a little more, realizing he was already getting turned on, even from such a short interaction, which only fueled you even more, turning completely around you wrapped your fingers on his neck and brought him down for a kiss. He complied, pushing you against a nearby wall as he kissed back, hands still extended above his head to keep the cloak covering the two of you. When you finally separated, you were both panting, his lips were already pink from the stimulation, and he brought one of his hands down to accommodate his pants, they were already making him uncomfortable.

“Come on handsome,” you told him with a smile, butting your bottom lip for a mere second and pulling at his bicep ever so slightly, “Why don’t we continue the party inside?”

When you arrived at their room, Sirius was on his bed, sketching something in his notebook while James was setting up the record player. After all the initial plan had been to just chill and listen to music together. But you all knew that wasn’t going to be the end of the story from the moment the suggestion left Remus’ lips.

You went straight to Siri, pressing a chaste kiss over his mouth as you laid down next to him “Happy birthday Puppy!”

“That’s like the 10th time today you say that,” James teased.

“It’s probably just an excuse to snog him,” added Remus.

You shrugged and leaned in again, pressing another short kiss to Sirius’ soft lips “Happy birthday,” you whispered again.

Sirius just smiled, he loved when you showered him with attention, he had always had a knack for being the center of it, but when he was the center of yours, it made him soar, “You can snog me without wishing me happy birthday kitten, in fact, you can snog me whenever the hell you want.”

You laughed at the suggestive little smirk he made and searched with your hand to grab his. Sirius would definitely go crazy with how much attention you were all about to give him. He leaned in a little closer, dipping his head in the crook of your neck as he turned “You smell nice,” he whispered.

James almost jumped to the bed, placing the top half of his body over the bottom half of yours, his head looking at you from above your belly, “Don’t act like we aren’t in the room,” he said with a pout, placing a hand over your bare leg.

“We weren’t,” Sirius said, still from the crook of your neck “We were just giving you a show,” he added in the end, you could feel the smirk in his tone. Remus laughed, still standing in the middle of the room as he took off his sweater, passing it over his head, slowly, Remus was the most patient of the three; unless you were close to the moon.

You took a deep breath, feeling James’ forearm press against your belly as you did, he leaned down over them and noticed. “You’re not wearing a bra today,” he said as he raised just the edge of your shirt to get a peak.

“And it’s not the only thing I didn’t put on,” you said teasingly.

Sirius turned to you shocked “Shut up.”

“Why don’t you see it for yourself,” you said with a smirk. Sirius didn’t think twice as he dipped his hand under your skirt. Unlike Remus, he went straight to your slick, feeling how wet you already were.

“Bloody hell kitten, you’re soaked,” he said, now his own eyes blown out in lust “Wait, why are you so…?” he turned to Remus, who just shrugged in response, a cheeky smile playing on his face. He narrowed his eyes at him and turned back to you, “fine then… my turn,” he said, lightly pushing James off you as he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on top of him, you were now straddling him, each leg to the side of his. The friction of his pants in your core, only making you all the more turned on, you ground yourself against him, which had him moan, if ever so lightly. James had placed one hand over your tight as he moved to kiss Sirius’ neck. Today was his day, after all.

You smiled, slowly grinding yourself against the boy one more time before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. Remus was sitting on the bed beside yours, lousily looking at the three of you as he patted himself. After a couple more kisses, you reached your hand under Sirius’ shirt, and both you and James pulled Sirius on a sitting position so you could completely remove it, gently passing it over his head. James didn’t leave him lay back down though, he pressed himself behind him to gain better access to his neck instead.

You smiled, still kissing Sirius as you fumbled your fingers over the button of his trousers. “Someone’s thirsty,” he teased.

“You wouldn’t know how much,” you whispered enigmatically. There it is again, Remus thought, she’s onto something. With the help of James, you managed to remove Sirius’ pants too. Playing with the hem of his trousers as you continued to grind onto his leg. Now it was your turn, moving in tandem with James, the two of you managed to lay Sirius back, over James’ chest, who rubbed soft circles on his arms as he watched you grind onto his boyfriend. Sirius was malleable, in fact, at this point, he would let you do whatever the hell you wanted with him, he wasn’t sure he was even still on earth.

Finally, you pulled his boxers down, pulling back just a little when his thick cock sprang out, pressing against his stomach from the force of the release. You licked your lips but stood back straight, taking your time to throw the boxers somewhere. Remus smiled, you were being fast tonight, maybe he’ll get his turn faster than–

He lost his train of thought, you had dropped kisses all over Sirius’ stomach and your face was dangerously close to his cock. It wasn’t unusual that you played and rubbed their cocks with your hands, but you usually kept your head a little further away from them.

He almost completely lost it when he noticed you playing with Sirius’ tights, pressing kisses against them as you spread them a little with your hands. That was a move he knew all too well, he’d done it several times. Finally, when you leaned down and pressed your lips against Sirius’ cock, it was he who jumped out of James’ grasp, Remus crossing the distance that there was in between the two of you with two long strides.

“Kitten what are you–” Sirius asked, his throat dry.

“–what do you think?” you said, motioning to his cock.

“But your gag reflex sweetheart,” James said, he was peering through Sirius’ shoulders.

Your heart warmth at the boys’ concern, “I wanna try,” you added.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do it… If you feel pressured into it because it’s my birthday then–”

“–It’s not that,” you cut him off “I want to try.”

“Are you very sure luv?” Remus asked, he had leaned down near the bed to level his head with yours.

You nodded “Positive.”

“Sirius can be a little desperate sometimes,” James added “We can help you hold him in place so he doesn’t accidentally jerk too hard into your throat, How does that sound?”

You peered to look at him through your lashes, Sirius thought you’d never looked more stunning “If Sirius is all right with that.”

The boy in question nodded excitedly, and James leaned a little to the side, pressing one of his legs, while Remus held him from the other side.

“We’re ready,” Remus said with a short nod.

You nodded in response, taking a deep breath, and leaned back down pressing little kisses on Sirius’ soft abdomen before placing your hand over his balls. You’d seen James do it, and Sirius seemed to like it when he did.

Judging by the way he moaned, he also enjoyed it when you did. After kneading them a little more, and rubbing circles over his tight with your other hand, you placed your hand around his cock, pumping it a couple of times before finally leaning down, placing a light kiss over his tip. The sound Sirius emitted was so sinful, you felt your arousal dripping from your cunt.

James had moved over the bed, one hand still over Sirius’ leg, the other on his cock, he was watching mouth dry as you leaned down on Sirius. He had only dreamed of you doing such a thing, never daring to ask for it.

You took a deep breath, and went for a long lick, all the way from shaft to the end. Remus smirked, such a tease, he thought.

Sirius moaned again, head plopping back into the pillows James had placed when he moved to the side.

Remus hummed “Stop teasing him so much sweetheart,” he said as he placed a hand on the side of Sirius’ face, brushing lightly from his temple to his neck all the while looking tenderly at the boy, “He might just combust in flames if you keep it up.”

You stroked Sirius one more time, brushing your thumb over his tip the way you knew he liked so much and then you leaned down again, this time wrapping your mouth around his tip. You didn’t go down too deep at first, only really staying around the tip, making sure to test how much you could actually fit into your mouth without it getting uncomfortable.

You started moving your tongue around his tip, nipping and teasing. Another moan escaped from Sirius’ mouth, James didn’t know where to look as he touched himself, either at you or Sirius’ pleasure-driven face. At some point, you felt a slight buckle of Sirius’ hips, or at least an attempt of it, since both James and Remus had managed to restrain him from moving too much.

“Please,” he begged. You knew exactly what he wanted. When he got all whinny like that, it was because he wanted you to pick up the pace, either by stroking him faster or bobbing your hips up and down his length. You squeezed slightly with your hand since you knew how much he liked it when you clenched your “tight little pussy” around him. And finally, you started to bob your head up and down, slowly, taking in very little of him in your mouth at first. Testing the waters.

Sirius emitted the kind of groan you only heard of him when he was so deep into you, he couldn’t think of anything else. You then felt Remus’ hand, the one he wasn’t using to hold Sirius’s hip, moving under your skirt. Slowly moving up until he reached the tender flesh of the inside of your tight. And then he went further up, tracing your slit with his long finger.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “Pads, if you could feel how wet she is at this point… she’s practically dripping.”

Remus knew exactly what he was doing, Sirius was as much into physical pleasure as emotional, much like you were, and Remus was well aware knowing such a thing would set his boyfriend on fire, he wasn’t wrong, you could feel his hips trying to buckle into your mouth again, only to be stopped by the boys’ strong hands.

Remus did not remove his hand either, he kept playing around your slit, slowly parting with two fingers as you perked your ass just a bit more for easier access, which just had him grin. You moaned when he placed one of his fingers over your clit and started rubbing, Remus had the most confident grip when it came to finger fucking you, and he always delivered.

You started taking in a bit more of Sirius, forcing yourself a little over what you’d consider your comfort zone. Every moan his noises and Remus’ hands pulled from you, reverberating across his cock and bringing him closer.

“Sweethea… aaaah, fuck.” Sirius was trying to tell you something, but the way his moans sounded, you knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Regardless, it was James who took his hand away from his own cock and bought it to caress your back, “Kitten…” he said softly, you eyed him, not stopping the way you moved your mouth around Sirius, which almost got him to lose his train of thought, “Kitten, Sirius is about to come,” he informed.

You hummed in response, being aware of it already. You knew. Finally, that brought Remus back into the conversation “Wait, luv, does that mean you’re going to…” you hummed again.

“fuck,” you heard him whisper. She’s gonna swallow, he thought, not being able to keep his eyes off you.

Sirius was just as impressed, even if he wasn’t thinking much at this point, he had brought his hand down, and he toyed with your hair before settling it just over the back of your neck, he wasn’t pushing though, he was rubbing soft circles with his thumb, even amongst all the madness you’d brought to him, he was still thinking of your comfort.

You drove your head up and down three more times, and then you felt it, warm and a little salty, spurring into your mouth. And as you had planned you swallowed it all, helping Sirius ride through his orgasm by still bobbing your head a couple of times.

“It’s ok sweetheart,” you heard James, he still had his hand on your back “He’s done, you can stop.”

You did, slowly taking your mouth out and letting your head fall over Sirius’ belly, making sure to keep your ass up so Remus wouldn’t stop toying with your pussy, which he wasn’t planning on either way. Sirius looked at you, breath heavy as he wrapped his hand over your cheek, “That was incredible sweets, and for your first time.”

You pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his stomach, and then turned your eyes back to him “I’d been observing you…” you said. Being stoped by your own moan as Remus drove a finger inside of you “taking notes of what each of my boys likes best.”

“fuck you’re so tight,” the boy whispered, only James heard, you and Sirius were too wrapped in your own little bubble.

“Have you now?” he said with a teasing smile, “you might become the best of the three,” he whispered, it earned him a smack from James, who had been attentively watching the way Remus finger fucked you, imagining how it would look like without the skirt.

“Next time you beg for me to blow you after a game I’ll tell you to go beg elsewhere,” he teased. Which earned a chuckle from you and Sirius.

“I want to see,” Sirius added, motioning to Remus’ hand under your skirt.

“That makes two of us,” James said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a sitting position, you whined in response, almost crying at the loss of Remus’ expert fingers.

“It’s ok baby, we’re just gonna reposition,” James cooed, and he started to unbutton your shirt as Remus got on the bed, taking off his shirt in one swift motion before helping James remove yours. The boys moved in tandem, smoothly as if they knew exactly what the other was about to do next, which perhaps they did, since they knew each other so well. Once the shirt was off, you felt the cold air perk your nipples, giving both boys sitting in front of you their own little show. While that was going on, Remus was the one to unbutton and unzip your skirt, lifting you up towards him as James pulled it off.

Remus placed you in between his legs, enjoying the feeling of the soft bare skin of your back flushing against his torso. He hadn’t yet removed his pants, but you could feel how hard he was under them, so hard it’s gotta be painful.

But Remus had only two moods, either being patient or being desperate; today he was the first one, so when you rocked your hips back, trying to get a reaction, he just held you down “Steady on sweetheart, let us enjoy you first.”

And they were going to enjoy you, while Remus spread you wide open, carefully passing your feet over his legs so they would stay in position, James had leaned in to spread soft kisses on your neck. All of you facing Sirius, who was just smiling darkly at the sight.

Remus was slow at first, passing a hand over your inner tight, massaging the soft skin before getting closer to your slit. Even then, he just massaged around it “Remus!” you whined, which only earned him a chuckle.

“What is it luv?” he asked, playing dumb.

“Yeah, what is it?” James asked, unlaching his lips from your neck and turning to you, joining the teasing.

“Please!” you added, grabbing onto Remus’ hand and placing it on your slit.

Finally, he complied, tracing his strong fingers over your slit, still impossibly wet. James had already moved on to kiss one of your nipples, nipping and teasing the tender skin. Sucking it into peaks before laying it back with his tongue. One of his hands had been placed in the small of your neck, and the other on your other breast, making sure not to let it skip on the fun.

“How are you three so goddamned beautiful?” you heard Sirius mumble as he enjoyed the view.

This time around, after toying with your clit once more, Remus placed two fingers inside instead of one, which had you gasp, but he just smiled devilishly as he thrusted them in and out, eliciting one of his favourite sounds in the world, your moans. While lost in bliss, you felt James’ cock brush against your skin, which made you remember how forgotten you had left him tonight, so you reached out and brushed your hand around it, brushing your thumb over the tip a couple of times, earning a couple of moans from him.

“Yes, please,” he whispered, and you complied, finally starting to stroke him. James did not stop the kissing as you continued to move your hand up and down his length, only moaning your name a couple of times, and squeezing your breast a little tighter when he was close.

You were just as close, you realized Remus had been not only finger fucking you, but preparing you as well, slowly stretching you out with the help of his two fingers. Remus was big, and without stretching, he just didn’t fit in. And if he was stretching you out, then it meant he knew he’d get your wet little cunt tonight and it only fueled him more and turned you on even more in return. You buckled your hips against his fingers a couple of times, and his pace became faster. Just like your stroking around James’ cock.

James came first, thrusting into your hand as his cum dripped all over it, finally unlatching himself from your nipples and breathing heavily as he stared dumbly at you and Remus, lips parted and slightly red, just the sight of it made you buckle your hips against Remus’ hand once again. He was about to take his wand to clean your hand with it, when Remus used his free hand to bring it over to his mouth and ran his tongue from your wrist bone to your fingers, licking most James’ cum along, which James swore made his cock twitch again.

And then Remus turned to you, not slowing down the pace on your pussy, but looking as calm as unbothered as if he were a teacher asking a student for an answer “Do you want to taste him too, sweetheart?”

You nodded, and he pushed your hand towards your mouth, carefully placing the soft section between your thumb and your wrist right over your lips, it was the only section still covered with James’ cum, and you slowly brought your lips around it, sucking carefully on your hand and letting your lips slowly go back to their place as Remus’ pulled your hand out. James was a little saltier than Sirius, but also relatively sweet.

“fuck… i’m gonna end up getting hard again,” you heard James’ groan, which had Sirius chuckle as he pulled the boy towards him.

“Come Prongs, enjoy the show with me,” he said with a smile. James leaned in and gave Sirius a short kiss before leaning on his shoulder.

“All right sweetheart, your turn,” Remus said as he brought his index finger from the other hand to your clit, you leaned your head back on his shoulder, buckling your hips against him with more conviction now that you weren’t distracted by anything else.

His pace quickened and you moaned and whined under his expert hands “Hmmm… please Rem, I’m about to…”

“It’s ok baby, be good and come all over my fingers,” he cooed, and you did, harshly pulling your head back as you allowed him to finger fuck you to oblivion. “There we go, such a good girl for me, isn’t that right?” he praised, as he brought his hand, still wet with your slick over to his mouth and sucked sinfully over the two fingers that were inside of you, moaning as he tasted your juices. He then turned back to you again. “Now, are you gonna allow me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours tonight or do you feel too tired already?”

You wanted nothing more than for Remus to stretch you up just right, so you nodded, head still a little foggy from the high, “Please Remus,” you added for good measure, moving your hips back just to feel him press against you one more time.

Finally, you moved to the side, allowing the boy to take both his pants and underwear off before he laid down on the bed, Remus knew it was easier for you to be the one to ride him, at least at first –and when he was the first one– since that way you had a little more control over how big he was, and he was always more than happy to let you do it, in fact, he quite enjoyed the way your breast bounced as you bobbed up and down his length. And he knew the boys liked it just as much, so he strategically laid in a way so that they would get a good view of you.

You slowly straddled him, placing both knees on each side of his hip before rubbing yourself against his cock a couple of times, causing him to moan this time. You were still so fucking wet.

Eventually, you lifted yourself up and lined him with your entrance. He placed both of his hands around your hips, to help hold you up as you slowly pushed yourself down, moaning as you went as deep as you could. Remus had responded to your tightness with a grunt, truth be told he’d been dreaming of it from the moment he went to pick you up.

You started bobbing up and down his length, slow at first, but picking up that pace as your walls got used to his size. Remus had his hands on your waist, helping you move easily as he started to thrust up into you, reaching the right spot. “fuck… yes,” you said breathily as he continued thrusting.

“So fucking tight,” Remus breathed as he helped you ride him, completely focused on you, on your parted lips, your soft huffs and moans; you were absolutely entrancing in the way you moved your hips on him, “You’re taking me in so well sweetheart…”

You moaned, and clenched around him, which just caused him to buckle against you even harder. That got you to whimper and you brought both of your palms to lay over his shoulders, to hold yourself better as you continued to rock your hips on the boy, “Baby… if you keep that up I’m not gonna last,” he added, and just to tease him, you clenched again, eliciting a moan from the boy so sinful, it fueled you to keep moving, faster this time around.

“So beautiful, aren’t they Prongs?” you heard Sirius say, almost not quite registering it with the way Remus’ cock trusted into you right after. The other boy hummed in response, not able to take his eyes off the way you were moving.

When Remus was close, he switched the two of you around, laying you flat on the bed as he brought one of his hands over to your clit, “Be a good girl and come for me one last time sweetheart,” he said as he continued to thrust. Holding back his own orgasm, he wanted to hear you moan his name as he came.

And after a few more flicks and circles of his thumb, with his pace quickening, you came, “hmm Remus…” you whispered as he continued to thrust inside of you, the way your walls clenched around tipping the boy over the edge, he had hold it back so long, he practically grunted into your ear and spiled inside of you.

Eventually, he pulled back, staring at your pussy as he panted, you knew what he wanted and so you squeezed, allowing the thick white liquid to spill from your inside, dripping from your entrance to the back of your ass. Remus really liked to see the evidence of fucking you, somehow satisfying his most primal desires, or so he’d told you once.

Remus brought one of his hands back to your cunt, you shivered with the contact since you were still slightly overstimulated, but he didn’t budge, using his middle and index to gather some of your combined juices, he angled his head cockily, “Are you gonna taste me tonight as well sweetheart?” he asked.

You smiled wickedly, using your elbows to prop yourself up and leaning in towards the boy’s hand, not bothering to answer as you opened your mouth and wrapped it around both of his fingers, making sure to let your lips pull as you slowly hollowed your mouth and pulled yourself back, licking your lips as you completely separated from the boy. Remus had not been expecting that, his cocky demeanour faltering as his mouth dried. Remus was the sweetest of the three.

A/N: this is the third piece of smut I’ve written so far, and omg this definitely got out of hand. Regardless… I do feel like I’m getting the hang of it. Maybe? A little bit? At least I don’t feel the cringe, anymore. Saying that, I do still stop myself every now and then and wonder “what the hell am I writing?” In a “I’d be burned in the stake for imagining these things” sort of way haha! Either way, I’m having fun, and that’s what matters!

The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3

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roosterr · 10 months

Text

white flag ✹ ch 4

note: i had to rewrite this chapter TWICE. im sick of it so pls enjoy. also forgot to mention on here that I have been away this week on a little holiday. didn't stop me writing tho lol.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 2.3k

no use of y/n

readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: while you're gone on a mission, ghost has time to ponder your relationship, and comes to a long awaited realisation

warnings: ghost's pov, mentions of blood and injury, lil bit of angst

ao3

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ghost never knew how to feel about you.

at first, he really did hate you; you were the bright-eyed new recruit with seemingly endless optimism, he simply couldn't help but be annoyed by you. honestly, he half expected you to tap out a week into the job. you were just so… normal, he found it hard to believe you were cut out for this line of work.

of course, he trusted price's decision to hire you, and deep down ghost knew he wouldn't have recruited you if he didn't think you could handle it, but he looked down on you anyway. it didn't matter how good price thought you were, you'd have to earn ghost's respect.

it was infuriating, the way you fit so easily into the dynamic of the team. they all liked you right off the bat, even the captain, who was notoriously hard to impress. he observed you from afar, watching how you easily broke down their walls and fell into place next to them like it was nothing.

if he was honest with himself, he might have even called it jealousy. it seemed that everything was so natural to you; everything that he struggled with, you did with such ease you made it look like child's play. he especially hated the way you could just be a person. you didn't lock up every time someone spoke to you, you didn't need to sit with a visual on every available exit, and you didn't need to analyse every person you met in the fear that the second you turn your back they'll stab you in it.

you pissed him off, but what was worse than anything else about you, is that ghost had to fight with himself not to like you too.

it was the first time he got sent on an assignment with you that he began to understand why everyone seemed to get along with you so well. the ruthless efficiency with which you did your job was almost shocking to see. he couldn't have predicted how well the two of you worked together; like a well oiled machine, by the end of the mission he didn't even need to communicate verbally, you could just tell what his next move would be.

he finally understood why price fought so hard to get you on the one-four-one – and he finally found it in himself to respect you.

but that didn't change the way he felt about you beyond the field. you were soft, too kind, and too optimistic, you weren't hardened by the job like him. so he went out of his way to be tougher on you than he was with the others, and he rationalised it by telling himself he was helping you; that without a little toughening up, this world would break you, and for some reason, he couldn't stand the thought of that.

when you started to resent him back, it made his stomach feel heavy in a way he'd never felt before. it was new, and uncomfortable, and it scared him. he wasn't sure when he first noticed it, but it only got worse when he came to the realisation that you didn't care for him like you did for gaz and soap.

you could joke around so easily with them, but you go quiet when he enters the room. you never meet his eyes, and make sure to never be physical with him. when he addresses you over comms, you answer with a quick 'yes sir' and that's the end of it. ghost would never admit it, but the distance between you hurt – even if it was by design.

as he lay awake that night, he thought about what it would be like if you treated him the same way you treated the others. he couldn't stop the tiny smile that pulled at his lips as he imagined laughing with you, sitting next to you, touching you.

he imagined you, taking his calloused hand into your own, so gentle and kind like you always were, and the way his pulse skyrocketed scared him into staying up the rest of the night.

after that, the way he saw you changed. where he used to think you were soft – and therefore weak – instead he saw the way you chose to be kind. when once your constant jokes with the others was an inability to take things seriously, now it was your specialty way to keep up morale, and ghost actually found himself chuckling at a few of your quips.

it was like his entire perspective had shifted, everything about you that used to annoy him gradually became something he appreciated about you.

it took him a while, but he finally came to the conclusion that he… liked you.

but it was bittersweet, because he already knew you didn't want him, and he doubted you ever would. you'd never see him in the same light, he'd ruined his chances before he even knew he wanted one.

maybe it was for the best, though. you deserved better, someone who would treat you right, someone normal. he already knew you didn't want him, and he could never blame you for that. people like you don't fall in love with people like him, that's just the way it is.

so he resigns himself to burying the feelings he harbours for you. you never had to find out, if you did you'd surely be disgusted by someone like him being interested in you. he couldn't handle rejection like that, not from you.

when price told him he'd have to take you in when your house burned down, he was fucking terrified. it shook him to his core, how much he liked the idea of the two of you living under the same roof. he did his best to avoid you, leave you in peace like he assumed you wanted; but you – wonderful, kind you – wouldn't just leave him to his misery.

you were being nice to him, and he couldn't figure out why. he assumed it was because he was doing you a favour by letting you stay with him; he couldn't even trick himself into believing that you might be doing it because you liked him.

every night, he'd go back to that fantasy of existing with you, by your side instead of at arm's length. you were so close, just a single door separating you, his hands started sweating every time he passed by the living room.

he knew he was a goner the morning you woke up before him. he'd scarcely ever seen you in a casual setting, but walking into the kitchen and being greeted by you sitting at the table, the domesticity of it all hit him like a bullet to the chest.

it was exactly what he wanted, and it scared the shit out of him, so he panicked. he needed to stay away from you, for your own good, so he did what the ghost does best.

he ran away.

he didn't even consider what you'd think, he just had to get away, before he said something he'd end up regretting.

when you came through the door, soaking wet, and laid into him – which he knew he deserved – he immediately regretted leaving you behind. seeing you cry, knowing it was because of him, it made him feel sick. he knew he never wanted you to feel that heartache again, especially if it was because of him.

he'd give anything to start again with you, go back to the beginning and do it all right this time, but the only thing he could do was try and make up for what he'd put you through.

the hot chocolate was a peace offering; he knew you loved it – he even knew about the stash you had of it hidden in price's office, away from the other soldiers. he half expected you to just tell him to piss off, but when you accepted it, he felt his heart soar.

it ignited a spark of hope within him. more than anything, he just wanted you to like him, it didn't matter if you never saw him the way he wanted you to.

he intended on waking you up the next evening, before he left for the pub, but when he saw how peaceful you looked while you slept, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you.

you stayed with gaz and soap most of the night, and he spent the night watching you from the bar and dimly lit corners, assuring himself that you were okay. when it came time to drag you home with him, he had never been so nervous. taking care of people was the exact opposite of his strong suit, especially when they started crying at him.

he almost couldn't believe his ears when you said you liked him.

he'd dragged you home with an arm wrapped around your waist, his head feeling light as a feather. by all accounts, he should've been annoyed at having to look after you in your inebriated state, but he found himself smiling under his mask the whole way home – even when you almost threw up on him.

when you rested your head on his shoulder on the bathroom floor, he might've actually short-circuited. all thoughts except for you evacuated his mind, and a wonderfully warm feeling blossomed in his chest that made his stomach flutter like never before.

he came so close to spilling his guts to you, but then he remembered that you were drunk, and you most likely wouldn't remember it if he did. so he resigned himself to tucking you into bed with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.

the next day, sitting on that park bench with you, laughing with you like he'd wanted to for so long – it was everything to him. it sent his pulse through the roof, it was complicated, and it was so pleasantly warm.

the logical part of him knew that this would only end painfully for him, but found himself willing to risk that if it meant more of these moments with you.

but of course, he'd fucked it all up at the first opportunity. he'd screamed in your face and he had yet to even apologise for it – for any of it. he felt immeasurably guilty, but he was so scared he couldn't even force himself to be around you.

even price had yelled at him for how he'd treated you. you were traumatised, you had a very real phobia as a result of the house fire, and he felt like a fucking fool for not noticing. he swore to himself he'd make it up to you, he'd grovel at your feet for the rest of his life if he had to, and if you never forgave him he still wouldn't blame you.

he regretted it – of course he did. he let his fear consume him; the fear of you getting hurt, of losing you, and not being able to do anything to save you.

almost as soon as the words had passed his lips, he realised what he was doing, he heard himself. the anger in his voice, the fearful look in your eyes as they glistened with tears, it was everything he didn't want to be.

he felt just like his–

no. he refused to even entertain that thought. he'd never be… that. you deserved so, so much better than the broken husk of man that he was. no matter what he did, he would never deserve you; and it was selfish, but he still hoped that you could somehow forgive him.

it's only been a few days since you left on that assignment for laswell, but he's found that being alone in his house didn't bring him the same comfort it used to. the silence never bothered him before, in fact he greatly preferred it, but now it just felt empty. like there was something missing, leaving a hole in the space it used to occupy.

deep down, the rational part of simon knows that it's you, of course it is, but you wanted nothing to do with him right now. he knew he had to fix things, he would never get over the hollow feeling in his chest if he didn't. that's why he was currently standing at the edge of the runway in the middle of the night, watching the ramp of the helo lower to reveal you, gaz, and the captain.

you looked shattered, like you hadn't slept for days – which was probably true – and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to gather you into his arms and not let go. he wondered if the remnants of dried blood that were visible on your hands and face were yours.

he felt his heart rate pick up as you made your way closer to him, his icy stare softening when he sees how you drag your feet across the tarmac.

when you were close enough, he reached his hand out to grasp your arm, opening his mouth to speak, but he never makes contact.

you sidestep him, and he feels his heart break in his chest. any words he was planning on saying die on his tongue as he turns to watch you slip through the doors without a hint of acknowledgement to him.

price gives him a rough pat on the shoulder as he and gaz pass by. "fix it, simon." he murmurs, before disappearing through the doors as well, leaving him alone outside the building.

he will fix it – he'd do whatever it takes because simon doesn't just need you, he's come to the alarming conclusion that he loves you – he just has no idea how.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna ,

@cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology , @kuruksenshi

if your name is crossed out, i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry! ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

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li0nn3stuff · 25 days

Text

Kiddo

Chapter five

Kiddo masterlist

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader

•Chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, talking of sexual themes•

A month and a half after the encounter.

He groaned, squeezing his cock more tightly as he kept moving his hand up and down frenetically.

Her eyes.

Her eyes on him.

He could still feel the weight of them on him, the pleasure.

She noticed him, he knew.

But she looked at him before he did it.

And then she smiled.

She smiled at him, with that pretty mouth of her, her beautiful lips. He still remembers how they sparkled under the light, due to the gloss she put on. It maked them seem even more juicy. He could imagine those lips wrapped around his cock. Her fucking innocent eyes looking up at him, insecure. She wouldn’t have to, because he would have been so proud of her.

He moans out loud as he squeezed the tip of his cock, then going back to his quick motions.

When her eyes are on him, she is even more beautiful.

Beside him, she would look even more beautiful.

Full of him, she would look even more beautiful.

With his surname, she would look even more beautiful.

Aemond lets his head fall back as he feels his orgasm so close.

She would look idyllic, completely fucked out after he took care of her.

He opens his eye and leans his head straight, looking at the picture he took of her a month ago, and he lets himself go, his seed covering her image in the photo.

One day he’ll do it for real.

For now, he needed more photos of her.

He stepped out of the elevator, walking to his office, but before he could enter his secretary stopped him.

“Mr. Targaryen, I have you coffee.” She says as she gets up to hand it to him. Aemond sighed as he nodded, thankful. It was a warning, the coffee, it meant that his mother was in his office, about to ask him to do something he didn’t want to do, surely.

He took a long sip of the coffee and got inside, her mother, who was sitting on the couch immediately got up, smiling and walked to him to kiss his cheek.

Aemond kissed her cheek back, and went to his desk to put down his coffee and the bag on the floor.

“Good morning, mum.” He says as he goes in front of his desk, leaning on it as he looks at his mother. “Would you like some coffee? I can have it ordered for you.”

Alicent smiles and shakes her head.

“No, Aem, I’m fine, I just had breakfast with Haelena.”

Aemond nods.

“How is she?” He asks, his last encounter with Helena must have been… When Cregan Stark proposed to her. She cried and said yes.

“She’s fine, arranging the last few things for the wedding. She’s happy.” Her mother smiles proudly, happy. “Then I’m happy for her.”

“You should see the decorations she had chosen, despite my wedding, she got out of those dark colors of our ancestors, she decided to use pastel colors, your father would have fainted just at the idea.” She chuckles. Aemond smiles briefly, nodding. It was usual of her mother to start blathering about anything, she was never straightforward when she had to ask a favor.

“What is it mum?” Aemond cuts her off just when she was about to say something else about his sister’s wedding. Alicent sighs, but her soft smile doesn’t falter, even if it saddens a bit.

“Your brother needs something to do to-” Aemond sighs, and turns around to sit on his desk chair, but Alicent won’t give up. “If you could find him a small art here, a little job he can do, so he doesn’t have the time to drink or…”

“Why should I? He would probably mess up something, I can’t have that.” Aemond says seriously.

A drunken man in a bank business? Pure hell.

More headache for him.

His girl was giving him enough already.

“Please, my son, Aegon needs this.” Her mother pleads. Aemond shakes his head.

“I don’t, I can’t risk anything with him.”

Alicent sighs and looks to the side.

“He’s your brother. Think about it.” Said that, Alicent leaves. Aemond grunts, and rubs his forehead with his hand. He decides to not think much about his mother's request, despite how much it irritated him.

Aegon was a fucking grown up, yet his mother kept babying him like he was a hyperactive child. He sighs again, and he takes out from the pocket inside his jacket a picture of his girl.

A month after the encounter.

He turned and walked to the bar counter, asking for a bottle of water.

He had to get out. Go away. Quickly.

He quickly paid for the wanted and turned to go away looking at her one last time.

He stopped all his movements.

She was looking at him.

She smiled.

He wanted to smile back.

He felt the urge to smile back, but for some reason, his body didn’t react. All he could do was take a deep breath when she got up and went to him.

Her cheeks were red. She was embarrassed.

“Hello, sir.” She smiles softly. Aemond looks down at her. Her perfume was all around him, he was finally smelling her again.

“Hello.” He says coldly, but despite his hard demeanor, she doesn’t back away. She raises her hand to play with her necklace.

“Uhm… I- I don't know if you remember me, sir, but… You returned my necklace when it fell from my neck. I’m Y/N.”

He remembered it well.

“It is really an important necklace for me, and I realized only later that I haven’t properly thanked you enough.”

Aemond didn’t want to look away, but he heard the voice of a man, saying he was a police officer, so he looked to the side to see him stopping people from leaving.

He had to go away.

“It’s no problem, really.” He looks back at her, and he steps aside. “I have to go.”

He turns, but then he feels her soft hand taking his, not pulling him back, she wasn’t trying to force him there, but like she wanted him to know that she needed him to stay. To hear her.

He looked down at her hand, and he savored her touch.

He knew he would never forget it. That he will replay the sensation he was feeling now, over and over, when he will masturbate again over her photo.

When she sees him looking at their hands, she immediately pulls back, probably thinking it bothered him.

“Sorry! I-I just… I really wish to thank you sir, I know that if I lost my necklace I would be desperate, so please… I would like to gift you something…” She studders embarrassed, her face only growing redder under his gaze.

“Gift me… something?” He repeated.

Will he have something from her?

His heart beated quickly.

He wanted it. Whatever it was, he wanted it.

“Uhm… yes… I don’t have it here, perhaps we can meet sometime?” Her face just kept getting redder. It was almost amusing how embarrassed she was getting, only by talking to him.

Or perhaps she was aroused?

He hoped she was.

He hoped she was aroused just as he was by her sight, her voice.

“Yes.” He said, perhaps too quickly. “Yeah, we can do that… okay.” He nodded, and he swore he saw her eyes sparkle. He knew they did. It was silly her amount of excitement over something so little, but she looked like she just won everything.

And he was fucking proud of it.

He made her happy.

He did it.

He didn’t mean it as a vow, but in his head, he promised himself to always make her that happy, or even more.

A month and a half after the encounter.

He looked at the clock and sighed.

He could have looked at it all day, the time wouldn’t pass faster.

He sighed and leant back on his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He hated how much he was being distracted by their forthcoming meeting.

Or date.

Could he call it a date? He wanted to.

He just had to be patient. Once he will meet her, he will surely go back to normal.

Focused on his work.

He looked forward to it.

“Floris!” He shouted, calling his secretary in his office. She rushed quickly inside, looking at him questioningly.

“Every single client or any other person that asks for me today, I want to hear it. Fill my schedule for today.”

As he drove his car, he kept rubbing his temple, the constant thought of meeting her, despite all the work he had drowned himself of, got him a headache.

As he turned into the countryside road, he complimented himself for choosing this side of the city to meet her. No eyes, just him and her.

Alone.

He looked at the time on the screen in the car. He was a bit early, but he preferred to wait for her where he should be meeting her rather than staying in his office.

“There is a bench close to a big tree, it’s kind of here.” She pointed him the place on his phone, where he opened the map. “It might be a little complicated to get there with a car, but it’s not a difficult walk, I swear!” She quickly added her last two words. Aemond huffed a chuckle.

“It’s fine. I can walk there.”

“There are some hidden stairs on the back of the hill, they’re not really hard to see. If you come from this side…” She was standing so close to him, he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her presence. He was hearing her, but he wasn’t listening, he wanted to remember the sweet tone of her voice forever.

She was just so fucking innocent.

He stopped the car at the base of the hill, then he got outside, breathing in the air.

Clean. Fresh, it tasted like grass.

He liked it, he liked that his girl grew up in a place so full of nature. He looked at the grass, and he swayed his feet, looking at the string of grass moving around his feet.

“Sir! You’re already here!” He turned around surprised at her voice. He saw her on her bicyclette, waving at him from a couple of meters from him.

She was wearing a white dress, elasticized on her chest, and long puffy sleeves. The skirt of the dress reached under her knees. She braided her hair on the side of her head, closing them behind with a white ribbon, letting the rest of her hair loose.

He felt his cock stiffen at that simple sight.

She was the pure representation of innocence, and he couldn’t decide if he’d rather destroy it with his hands or protect her at all costs.

She jumped off her bike when she was close to him, she smiled sweetly, happily at him.

“I’m happy you found the place.” She said, keeping her hands on the handlebar to bring her bike with her.

“You’re early.” He answered, his voice coming out cold.

He pressed his lips together. He wished he could be a bit more… warm towards her.

Nicer.

Her smile didn’t falter, in fact, she chuckled, as they started walking around the hill. reaching the stairs she talked to him about. He kept his hands clasped on his back, as he stayed on her side, his eye scanning the earth beneath him.

“I hate to have people waiting for me, sir.” She explains. “Aemond.” He corrected her. He saw with the corner of his eye her head turning towards him. “Mh?”

“Aemond. Call me Aemond.” He looked at her, Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her cheeks flushed when he ordered her to call him by his name.

“Aemond. I’m Y/N.” She smiled shyly.

“I know, I remember.” He said calmly as he went back to looking down.

“Here.” She stopped, and she carefully took a wooden box from her bike basket, letting the bike fall on the grass. He looked at the hill and he noticed some sort of wooden narrow stairs steps, made out of tree roots and branches, set with dry mud and dirt.

He watched her as she skillfully went up the steep stairs, and he followed her, slowly, careful not to fall.

“You alright?” She asked, turning around, looking at him with big eyes, with a hint of worry.

“Just fine.” He groaned as he looked at his shoes, getting dirt all over the sides. He looked up at her, and at her amused smile, he immediately calmed down. He almost wanted to chuckle, despite the fact that she dared to laugh at him.

“I promise we are close.” She said, resuming her way up the hill.

Turns out, her ‘close’ and his had different meanings, but they arrived at the top of the hill. There was a single bench on it, covered by a large tree, where a homemade swing hung from one of the biggest branches. She smiled back at him, putting the box down on the bench, and sitting on it. He followed her, sitting as well.

“This necklace is very important to me.” She told him, grasping the pendant of the necklace. The chain was gold, he couldn’t tell if it was real or not, and the pendant was a blue gem, it didn’t have a defined shape, it was wrapped by a gold filament that held it to the chain.

“I know it might seem silly, but I know I– I would have been completely devastated if I had lost it.” She pulled the box towards him. “My father always said there was only one remedy for all the problems.” Aemond looks at her closely.

Than was a lie. She never lived with her father.

“Your father, mh?” He asked, acting like he didn’t know already about her childhood.

“Well, my foster father, actually… but he was my real father to me.”

“Was?” She looked down, caressing her pendant.

“Yes, was.” She didn’t even try to explain any further, she just quickly regained her smile and looked up at him.

“Please, open it.” She smiles as Aemond opens the box.

Inside, the box was organized, in a corner there was a mug, and around it there were compartments for different types of herbs.

Aemond took out the mug, it was imperfect, surely handmade. The fantasy on the mug was dragon scales, all tinted black.

“I’ts tea. Oh, and… I made the mug.” His eye flared at her. She was looking down, playing with her fingers, her cheeks quickly getting redder.. “I know it’s not perfect.– I–I just thought…” She gasped when he suddenly lifted her head, squeezing softly her cheeks in his head.

He slowly moved her face around, scanning her face.

He wanted to pull her close to him, and devour her.

Kiss her until he would have been out of breath.

He wanted to take her on this very bench, or on the ground, getting both dirty from the mud.

He would have fucked her anywhere.

He wanted to fill her to the brim, everywhere.

His thoughts only made his situation in his pants harder. He let go of her face and closed the box carefully.

He didn’t drink tea, but he could start for her.

He will only ever drink her tea.

“I like it.” He said calmly. He looked at her, and he saw her smile, her eyes getting a little glossy, but she quickly composed herself. “Do you often do this kind of thing? You give them to your friends?”

According to what he knew about her, she didn’t have any friends at all. At least not real ones.

“Uhm… no, I–” She looks down, embarrassed, clenching her hands on her dress.I don’t have a lot of friends…” SHe turns her head to the side, looking away.

“I don’t either, you know.” Aemond’s lips curled into something close to a gentle smile.

Her eyes shot back at him, surprised.

“Why?” She asked, in her eyes there was no judgment, only curiosity.

“I believe no one I ever met was truly capable of understanding me, so they all eventually left.” He explained. She looked at him for a long time, speechless.

“The same thing happens to me, I–” She unconsciously moved closer to him on the bench. “At school, other people make fun of me sometimes…” She looks away, and stares at the grass. “I don’t know why, but I feel so different from all of those students…”

He knew how she felt. He knew it because he studied her as much as he could.

That’s why he knew exactly what to say to her.

What to say to make her feel understood, to make her trust him.

Create a bond, at all costs.

“I know, I always feel the same way, with my coworkers, I feel like they see someone strange and laughable, when I’m not.”

He didn’t care how much he had to lie.

He was doomed anyway. He could have met her a thousand of times more, nothing will change him again.

He was completely obsessed. She was his only treasure in his life, and he was determined to have it, take it, and keep it for himself only.

“Yes, yes! I know, it’s so unfair…” She kept looking at him, nodding her head slowly. They stayed in silence for a while. Then she took his hand softly, carefully.

“Can we be friends?”

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