#this was meant to be a quick sketch but man those arms
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Lorzanna and Lance :D
Og image by slushyisdead (twitter)
#cursed princess club#cpc shitposting#lorzanna#this was meant to be a quick sketch but man those arms#had to resize this so many times lance is fuckin tall#my art
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Where Stubbornness Leads Pt. 2 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)
Summary: A trip to town results in a conversation Arthur can’t get off his mind.
Author’s Notes: Part two of this one.
Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, smut, high honor Arthur Morgan
AO3 Link
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Where Stubbornness Leads
Word count: 7045
Part Two
It had been two weeks. Already two weeks of being with you, something good enough as to make Arthur think he was the luckiest man alive.
He wasn’t quite sure how it had ever happened or that he deserved it, but those things didn’t matter when he was with you. What mattered was that a woman as fiery and passionate and good-hearted felt for him right back. All things considered, he had thought that part of his life was over for a long time. And now that it wasn’t, each morning was like waking up to a pleasant surprise—something to lift his spirits beyond what anything else had for years.
Arthur awoke with that very feeling and decided to write it down—he was making a quick journal entry in the overlook’s early morning hours so as not to attract any attention. Halfway through his words, he debated what to draw alongside them. He would be lying if he said this was the first time you made your way into his journal. The night you met when the gang took you in, he’d written in a quick retelling. Then again on the night he kissed you, that one with a rendering of you in that dress you wore he couldn’t get out of his head. But this entry wasn’t about any night in particular, just spending time with you and how proud you remained. He chuckled at the thought, suddenly knowing exactly what to draw.
Half an hour later, he had a nearly-finished sketch of you, the perfect tilt of your hips as you cocked them at him making him smile. He looked up and saw the real thing meandering around camp and shut his journal to go join you.
You were wearing a dress this morning. You didn’t wear them all that often, and when you did it was a rare treat. Not only did you look good enough to make an ache settle in Arthur’s chest, but you couldn’t do as many of the chores you kept insisting on in a dress. This of course moved Arthur to step in for you, and even better, you didn’t refuse him when he did.
This was exactly what he found himself looking forward to when you waltzed over to the feed sacks. Another chore you knew would get his attention as if the dress hadn’t already. He walked over to join you.
“Don’t even try it,” he teased, making you turn.
You smiled that devilish smile he knew meant trouble. You reached for the sack anyway.
“Uh uh,” he said, denying you by stepping in and batting your hand away. He took the sack right out from under you, flipping it over his shoulder. You crossed your arms at him, eyes smoldering. The sight ate him up. “Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?” you said innocently, and before he could stop you, you’d reached down and gotten the other sack, coming up beaming at him.
“For christ’s sake,” he said, the edges of a grin tugging on his mouth despite it. He started for Pearson’s wagon with you alongside him.
“You wouldn’t have it any other way,” you shot back. You were right about that much.
“Maybe, but I prefer you didn’t throw your back out.”
“Oh, because I’m just a helpless little woman, am I?”
“No,” he said smugly. “Because you lifted that thing with your back, not your knees.”
Your expression soured. He laughed.
“Shut up.” You gave him a small shove, making him smile like a fool.
“Good lord. Get a room already, would you?” This from Karen who stood over her coffee at Pearson’s wagon. Mary-Beth, standing just beside her, snorted with laughter.
“How about you mind your business?” Arthur said hotly. The two of you hadn’t yet brought your relationship out in the open in front of the gang, but that didn’t stop them from making comments like this at every turn. In fact, Arthur was willing to bet there wasn’t a soul left who didn’t suspect you of being sweet on each other.
Karen barked a laugh. “Relax, I’m just needling you.”
“Very funny.” Arthur let you put your feed sack down first, hoping you weren’t too embarrassed by the gang’s constant badgering.
“Mr. Morgan!” Arthur turned at the sound of his name, finding Pearson ambling over. “Thanks for the help with those,” he said as Arthur set the sack down atop yours.
“No problem.”
“Listen, I need a few supplies from town. Think you could go get them for me?”
“What do you need?”
Pearson dug in his pocket and pulled out a list, handing it to Arthur. “There. Nothing too complicated.”
He looked over the list, figuring the trip would be quick work. He was glad to have a reason to visit town besides. To get away from all these people, more like.
“Sure, I’ll get it, Pearson.”
“Good man!” Pearson replied, already walking away when Arthur turned to you.
“Care to join?”
That gleam was back in your eye, and for a moment he thought you would tell him no. But then your face went slightly red, and you glanced at the other women. “Sure. I, uh, need to get some things myself anyway.” Before he could ask what, you were backing away. “Meet you at the wagon?”
“Sure.” Awful strange, seeing you unsure. Or hiding something.
Five minutes later when he was joining you on the wagon, Arthur asked about it. “What’s got you acting all strange back there?”
“Back where?”
“In front of Karen and Mary-Beth.”
“I weren’t acting strange.”
He chuckled. “You kinda were.”
“Well you’re strange,” you said quickly, your temper flaring.
“Whatever you say,” he quipped, making it obvious he didn’t believe you. But you didn’t say another word about it, and he dropped it for your sake. Precious few things got you embarrassed. He didn’t want to pry.
The two of you fell into pleasant conversation on the way to Valentine. You were discussing Pearson’s cooking, his need for some of the flavors he’d asked for, when the wagon jolted over a deep divot in the road. You winced, bringing your arms around your middle. The movement drew Arthur’s attention.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you answered, but your gritted teeth said otherwise. He pulled the wagon over and stopped. “Arthur, really. I’m fine.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.” You met his eye then. He had discovered very recently you would forfeit your stubbornness if he was gentle toward you. As if you liked him enough to trust him, to put down your toughness when he did. Whatever the cause, it worked.
Your face heated again as you said with shyness, “I- it’s…women problems. Ain’t nothing.”
It took Arthur an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure out what you meant.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh, you big brute, now get back on the road,” you said, giving him a small shove of affection.
He obliged you, turning away as he steered the wagon, hoping his hat hid most of the redness on his face.
“Badgering me,” you muttered.
“You looked in pain,” he said in his defense.
“I am in pain.” And, at the look he gave you then, “Nothing I haven’t dealt with every month for years now. Relax, would you?”
He dropped it. He knew better than to say another word.
As it turned out, you had needed a few things from the store for said pain. That was what you’d been embarrassed to say in front of the women. Arthur leant you the money to buy what you needed, giving you space to breathe as he told you he’d be waiting on the bench outside. In a few minutes, you joined him.
“Thank you,” you told him with an unusually sincere look. “Didn’t have to make a big show of it.”
He shrugged. “For you I would.”
You smiled. And it tugged at his heart enough that when you got back on the wagon, he pulled you over and kissed you on the cheek before grabbing the reins and steering back out into the street.
Now that he knew the reason behind your pain, you stopped hiding it from him quite so much. On the ride back, you were wallowing around, curled in on yourself.
“That bad, huh?” he asked.
“Not terrible. But not great. Nothing I can do about it though.”
“Is there not?”
You looked at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I just-” He immediately stopped himself, realizing why he had said that. Something he had heard a long time ago as a teenager, most likely just men being idiots, telling him that. No truth to it whatsoever. Arthur felt his face go so red that he knew there was no escaping your next words.
“What? What’s got you all red in the face?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
“Awe, don’t pull that crap,” you said with a smile. “What is it? I’ve already admitted all to you, so spill it.”
“No,” he said, digging his heels in this time. Admitting what was on his mind would only bring trouble.
“Come on,” you said, taking his arm and shaking him. “I want to know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes I do. And it’s unfair that you-”
“Drop it this time,” he said, knowing how you were and that you wouldn’t unless he asked outright.
He thought he had gotten through to you until you yanked the reins out of his hands and pulled the horses up.
“I most certainly won’t drop it. Tell me.”
He sighed. “Y/N, now’s not the time to be stubborn. Trust me.”
It was the wrong thing to say. You were getting madder by the minute, and what he was holding under his tongue would only make it ten times worse.
“Tell me, Arthur Morgan.”
He turned away, shaking his head. May as well get this disaster over with. “Just…something I was told as a boy. About women and their…” He made a general motion that had you raising your eyebrow dangerously high. “Forget it. Forget I said a word,” he muttered, taking the reins back.
But your hand on his own stopped him. And he looked up to find you watching him smugly, like this was the funniest thing in the world. “Do tell.”
He huffed a breath, shifting around in his seat, not meeting your eye as he said, “Promise you won’t slap me?”
“No promises.” Of course not.
He took a breath before starting, knowing he was damning himself with every word. “There’s…an old wives tale I guess. Or maybe just some idiot spouting off things he don’t know, better left unsaid.”
“Which is?”
Arthur couldn’t keep the color off his face. How he got himself into these things…
“That, uh, a woman who’s- who has menstrual pain can lessen it by…well-”
“Good lord, spit it out man.”
“By pleasuring herself,” he said quickly. And he was met with such silence he braced himself and turned to you. You burst out laughing.
“You thought I would slap you over that? Oh, Arthur,” you said, your laughter barely contained. “Men are idiots. You included.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to-”
“Don’t finish that sentence or I will slap you,” you said, the smile on your face nearly contagious. “But I do appreciate you being so thoughtful.” If his face got any redder, he would be setting some kind of record.
“Sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish smile of his own, whipping the reins. The wagon lurched forward, bringing your continuous laughter with it.
You only quieted down once you were nearly into camp. “You’re lucky I don’t know the other women well enough to tell them this. No matter how much I want to.”
“Please,” Arthur said, desperate. “Resist the urge. I’d never hear the end of it.”
“Oh, you won’t ever hear the end of it. Not from me.”
He met your eye and leaned over, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “You wouldn’t.”
“Won’t I?” you said, though your gaze caught on his mouth.
And soon you were back in camp, about to get off the wagon when your hand around his arm stopped him. Your voice dropped low so no one would overhear. “Any pleasure I get’s going to be from you, Mr. Morgan. Though you’re welcome to think of me doing that if you want.”
He quit breathing.
You jumped down and spun, your dress twirling around you as you leveled him with a wicked grin. He didn’t miss the color crossing your face, though his was likely ten times worse with how hot his ears suddenly felt.
Just like that, you had turned and walked back into camp. And Arthur realized he was still sitting there like an idiot, trying his best not to dwell on the image you had just put in his head. It was a nearly impossible task.
The rest of the day, Arthur worked harder than he had since Colter. There was no other way to keep his mind off your words. He didn’t necessarily want to keep his mind off them, but the feeling that shot through him every time he did was making it difficult to focus. So he worked. You joined in with some things, going on like the two of you normally did. He was almost sure you were enjoying this though, as he caught the corner of a smile on your mouth twice before you could turn away in time. This was a dangerous game you were playing.
The night turned unusually cold—something Arthur resented when he went to bed. Because he always let the canvas down around him when it was cold to keep the wind out. And he had just done this and had barely had time to sit on his cot before he remembered what you whispered to him. The thought brought the same image to him, of how you would look splayed back with your hands between your legs. And damn the cold weather, because the canvas was down, and he felt his arousal take hold, and there was nothing stopping him now from thinking about you all he wanted.
He laid back on his cot, taking his hat off and letting it fall to the ground. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands but discovered this to be worse—the darkness gave way to the image of you once more. And, with a breath of impatience, he gave in, reaching for the buttons of his pants. He was already half-hard when he pulled himself out, beginning to stroke himself to the thought of what else you had said, wanting him to pleasure you. He gladly would if that was what you wanted. He’d be honored to. Surprised, really, since you seemed to hate his company so much when you first met.
He thought of your smart mouth and felt pleasure jolt through him, working his hand a little faster when your mouth around him came to mind. He held back a groan when he thought of burying himself inside you, how perfect you would feel around him. All other thought fell away as he began to pump himself hard and fast, imagining it was you he was pleasuring.
In moments, Arthur felt his high nearing, closing his eyes tight to the sharp pleasure of it. The thought of your naked body splayed out beneath him sent him over the edge, wringing out every ounce of pleasure he could as he tried his best to keep his labored breathing quiet.
Arthur came back down to the thought of your words, knowing they had taken hold and wouldn’t let him go now—it would be this every night until he could have the real thing. He would wait as long as you needed him to, wanting you to be sure, but he had a feeling the simple act of admitting that to him meant you were close to giving in to your desire too.
The next night was the same hell in different form, having you but not having you. He was sat at the poker table playing against Javier and John. You and Karen lingered, you not giving him any help whatsoever like you had at the poker tournament, no matter how much he asked. That didn’t stop you from calling him a fool every time he made risky bets or played poor hands. The pair of you were beginning to interrupt the game bickering so much that Karen cut in.
“Oh, for god’s sake. Can you two just admit you’re sweet on each other already and let us get on with the game?”
Arthur felt his face heat and watched yours do the same before you met his eye with a sharp glance.
“Fine,” you said on a sigh, your annoyance aimed at whoever prodded it. To Arthur’s shock, you rounded him and sat down right in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Karen cheered as you did it, John and Javier joining in. You broke the kiss like it was nothing, further proving to everyone you two had already done this before.
“Happy?” you asked Karen, still perched on Arthur’s lap with your hands around his neck like it was the most normal thing in the world. Even though the question wasn’t directed at him, he was happy. Happy as a king.
“Finally,” Karen said through a snort of laughter. “You owe me five bucks, Tilly!”
Tilly called out from somewhere in camp, “You’re kidding!” Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle, resting his hand on your lower back as Tilly came running over.
“Oh, I knew it!” she said when she saw you in Arthur’s lap.
“No duh,” Karen said. “We all did.”
“What’s this bet about then?” Arthur asked, trying to keep the pride out of his voice.
“I bet you would make the first move,” Tilly said with a smirk. “Thinking you didn’t care what any of us thought.”
“And I bet she would,” Karen said, pointing to you. “Knowing Arthur wouldn’t dare admit his feelings lest he impose.”
“Oh, lay off it,” Arthur said. His ears burning with the truth of it.
You barked a laugh. “She’s right, you know,” you said, looking down at him.
“Is she?” he said lowly. You held his stare, a grin turning your mouth.
“Good lord,” John said, throwing his cards down. “Why’d you have to bring it up? Now they’ll be worse,” he said to Karen.
“Why do you have to be so miserable?” she shot back.
“Forget it,” John said, getting up and stalking off.
“Goddamn baby,” Karen mumbled, the jab making Tilly laugh.
“I’ll take these,” Javier announced, shuffling John’s few chips over to his own pile. Arthur didn’t even care. He was having a tough time focusing on the gang’s usual camaraderie, his hand skimming over your back and coming to rest on your hip.
“Come on then, I’ll help you beat ‘em,” Karen said to Javier. She moved around to stand behind him, viewing his cards.
“Ooh, me too,” Tilly piped up, doing the same. Little did they know you were a damn good partner to have at the poker table. If you had finally decided to help him, that is.
You turned in Arthur’s lap, facing the table and joining the game. He would have been glad for it had you not just moved against him in a way that sent arousal shooting through him. He tried to adjust himself a little but only ended up with his hands on your hips. And the feeling of you in his grasp alone made things immeasurably worse.
“Let’s see…” you said, taking his cards, adjusting your seat. With the motion, your backside moved against him. Where Arthur thought you hadn’t noticed the effect you were having on him, he had been wrong—you had moved like that on purpose, throwing him a snide smirk over your shoulder.
“You make a habit of drawing the worst cards?” you teased.
“Seems so,” he answered, trying to keep his voice from shooting too low. Wondering how you kept such a straight face when all he could think about was your body against him.
“Here,” you said on a sigh, throwing a few chips into the pot. The game resumed, the two of you fairly evenly matched with Javier and Karen and Tilly. But Arthur could hardly give a thought to the game. He barely even noticed when his chips ran out, you turning to look at him.
“Oops.”
“What?”
“Bust,” you said, eyeing him knowingly, like you could read his thoughts.
“Damn,” he said, though it couldn’t be more obvious how satisfied he was with his lot.
“Damn indeed,” you said, tucking a strand of his hair back into place. He felt the same longing as he had when you’d straightened his coat. Worse.
After Javier gathered the coins that had been thrown down, he stood with satisfaction, saying, “Well, that was fun. Let’s do it again, Arthur. Maybe you’ll have more luck next time.” He smirked and managed one step from the table before the women started demanding their cut. Arthur chuckled, watching Karen and Tilly chase after Javier as he did he best to shake them off. He knew that was useless.
You ran your hand through his hair again, turning Arthur’s attention back to you. He was pleased to see the two of you were the only ones left at the table. In the nearby vicinity, even. It had gotten late enough to give you a bit of privacy, especially since he was sat in the seat nearest the cliffside so that he could see anyone approach. This left less than gentlemanly ideas coursing through his head, the look you were giving him not making things any better.
“What’s got you all in a bother then?” you asked, intentionally moving against him as you turned to face him better.
“You know what you’re doing,” he answered. “Don’t play like you ain’t doing it on purpose.”
“Doing what?” you said with a tilt of your head, turning fully so that you planted your feet on either side of him. Straddling him. He couldn’t tear his hands away from your sides if he wanted to but resisted the urge to pull you flush against him. Barely.
“I’ve seen how you sit in a chair,” he said. “This ain’t it.”
“You’re not a chair,” you said simply.
“No.”
He watched the gleam he adored enter your eyes, that scheming look enough for him to know he was done for. Sure enough, you raised up almost imperceptibly, moving against his erection in slow, intentional movements.
He clenched his jaw. “Sweetheart…” He said it in warning, wanting you proper, wanting to pleasure you fully, not like this in the middle of camp. But he knew if you kept on, he wouldn’t have it in him to stop you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked innocently, tilting your head to the side again. You kept on, grinding against him torturously slow.
“We’re in the middle of camp,” he managed, his voice so shot through with his arousal it was a wonder he could still speak.
“I’m just sitting on your lap,” you lied. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“This ain’t sitting,” he hissed when you sat a little lower, building the pressure against him.
“No?” you asked. “Well, let’s fix that.”
You sat, suddenly and fully enough to make Arthur hold in the edges of a groan. He felt one of your hands take his, bringing it to your thigh. He couldn’t tear his eyes from yours, that mischievous look pinning him down as much as you were. You slowly dragged his hand toward your middle, beginning to smirk like a cat. Arthur’s mouth went dry.
“You want to test your theory?” you asked lowly.
“What’s that?” he said, his voice catching.
Your smile widened. “Would you pleasuring me make my pain go away?”
He had forgotten all about your cycle. And concern trickled through him, not quite catching enough for him to stop what you were doing with his hand, though he still spoke his mind. “Are you hurting?”
He said it with sincerity, not wanting to cause you any worse pain. But he thought he saw a flash of something cross your face, something a lot like arousal. And just like that, you brought his hand to your clothed sex, his palm pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment before they were on him, all haughtiness gone, only want remaining. He was happy to oblige you.
Arthur moved his hand in small circles against you, loving the way your breath caught when he did. He cast a quick glance around to make sure the two of you were still alone. You were. God, did he want this to be more private. He would take you right here on this table if he could.
You parted your lips and let out a slow breath, the action drawing Arthur’s attention like nothing else. He kissed you, quick and soft, before pulling back. “My beautiful girl.”
Your face went red. He couldn’t tell if it was from his words or a flush in response to what he was doing to you. Your hands had gripped his forearms tight, your eyes losing focus.
His cock was straining beneath you, and he was seconds away from encouraging you to move with his other hand before he heard a voice nearby.
“…knew he was shit at cards. Hey, Morgan!” Arthur’s eyes snapped up, his hand going back to your hip.
“What, Bill?” He said it shortly, not meaning to sound so harsh but annoyed all the same at being interrupted. Even worse was the small noise of impatience you made that had Arthur debating taking you to his tent right then.
“There’s no need to snap at me. Hey, you two are…” Bill looked at you both like it had just dawned on him you were sitting in Arthur’s lap. Arthur spotted the bottle in his hand and scoffed.
“You’re drunk, Bill. Go sleep it off.”
“So what if I’m drunk?” he shot back. Arthur heard you let out an annoyed breath. He looked to you and found you already turning, your temper rearing its head. You stood and swung over Arthur’s legs, storming down Bill instead. Arthur felt his chest cave at the loss of your touch but didn’t dwell on it long, not when you flung so much anger in your approach that Bill cowered.
“Leave him the hell alone. He said go sleep it off,” you spat. You were much shorter than Bill but managed to tower over him with your rage alone. Bill knew not to test you with the way you were poised to strike. It turned Arthur’s mouth in a smile, seeing you like that.
“Sorry,” Bill said, his voice going high. “I’ll leave you alone then. Christ.”
You pointed to Bill’s shared tent, and with a scoff, he turned and did as you said, walking to it. Arthur chuckled lowly. Bill was normally too stupid to be intimidated, much less take orders.
Arthur got up, adjusting himself before he walked over to where you stood, fuming. “What’s got you all in a bother?” he asked lowly, repeating what you had asked him.
You swatted at him. Arthur laughed aloud, catching your hand. “Easy. Didn’t mean to draw that temper of yours.”
“I don’t have a temper,” you spat before turning on your heel, making for your own tent. Arthur was too busy smiling at that to be angry over the interruption. He would get to pleasure you proper soon enough. And next time, he would find the privacy to do each and every thing he wanted, drawing your want out of you until you were satisfied enough to forget all about that temper.
Arthur’s chance came four days later. It was late, most everyone else was asleep, and he found himself lowering the canvas around him as he had done every night before. Only, there was no chill in the air. Each night before, it had been for privacy as he worked himself over to the thought of the flush on your face, your pleasure made palpable. Now, it was for a different kind of privacy. For you stood in his tent before him, in a dress again, trying to argue with him about something. He couldn’t give said argument a moment’s thought.
“You’re not even listening to me,” you said, crossing your arms.
He finished tying the last of the canvas together and turned to you. “No. I ain’t.”
You had the briefest moment to look offended before he stepped forward and kissed you, any annoyance you had melting away as your hands found his face and you kissed him back.
The kiss turned heated, the first time he allowed it to. He knew he would never be able to stop himself after kissing you like this, your mouth parting for him, his tongue finding yours. And god above was it perfect.
He wrapped his hands around your back, reveling in the taste of you, the small heat of your mouth.
You pulled back suddenly, meeting his eye. “Don’t think we won’t finish this argument later.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, already kissing you again.
His hands drifted down, finding your backside and slipping just below. He lifted you with ease, making you emit a small gasp as he continued kissing you, backing your toward his bed.
You took the lead then, desperate in how you kissed him. Greedy. Your legs wrapped around his waist before he could set you down, and his erection hit you right where he needed you most. He lined himself against you before remembering himself, remembering his patience. His own pleasure could wait.
He set you down on the bed softly, breaking the kiss, withdrawing his grip on you. He climbed over you, meeting your lust-blown gaze. “Let me make you feel good. Take that pain you were talking about away.”
“That pain’s gone. Has been for a day or two.”
He could only nod, staying quiet as he began to undress you. He made quick work of your pretty little dress, bringing it over your head and tossing it aside. He was slower with your chemise, kissing every inch of skin revealed, making you wait for his touch. He couldn’t help it. You were beautiful, and the more he saw of you, the more he wanted to kiss and taste and suck. The urge only worsened when he brought the fabric down over your breasts, your nipples hardened in your arousal for him. He immediately brought his mouth to your breast, flicking his tongue against you. He heard the slightest of sighs escape you and nearly lost himself over it. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to make you make that sound for him over and over until you were too hoarse to make it anymore.
He worked your other breast with his hand as he licked and sucked against you, eventually switching to show the other the same kindness. Your hands roved over his back all the while, your touch awakening something within him he tried desperately to fight down. This was about you, not him. Not yet.
He eventually began moving downward still, the anticipation eating him alive as he removed your chemise entirely, pressing kisses against your belly as he moved down the bed. Your hands found his head and tangled in his hair, tugging slightly the closer he got to your womanhood.
He finally broke away from your skin, looking down to see your perfect sex. You were glistening wet through that small thatch of hair, enough to make Arthur’s cock throb at the sight. Not wasting a second, he brought his mouth to you. He would normally use his hands, had planned on it, but he suddenly couldn’t resist tasting you. The second your slick met his tongue, he groaned in satisfaction, your grip on his hair tightening.
“Arthur,” you said on a sigh. He could have found his release from that sound alone.
He licked against you before finally plunging his tongue into your entrance, tasting you. He repeated the motion enough to be sure you were enjoying it before he ran his tongue upward. He found that small bundle of nerves and kissed it, making your breath catch. He paused, just barely, long enough to look up and see your expression. Your head was thrown back, your mouth parted, your eyes shut against the pleasure he was showing you. He had half a thought he would have to make a new journal entry of you before you were tugging his hair, guiding him back down to where you needed him. He smiled as he began pleasuring you once more, his tongue finding your clit. His hands came down on your hips, pinning you down when you began squirming beneath him. He made you take every ounce of it, loving each and every noise that escaped your mouth as he did. And finally, when your breaths became heavy and he knew you were close, he pushed his tongue into your cunt again, his thumb finding your clit instead. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and in seconds, you had found your release on his tongue, panting from it. He nearly found his own too but caught himself, keeping his breathing even to fight it back down.
He focused on your body, tasting your slick again before pulling away from you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
You met his eye. “Arthur,” you whined quietly.
“You say the word and I’ll do it again,” he answered. He would. In a heartbeat, he would. He was completely at the mercy of that arousal on your face.
“Want you inside me,” you muttered. It broke his will clean in half.
He moved upward, kicking his boots off as he did, kissing your belly, your breasts, your neck. You took his face in your hands and kissed him hard, your tongue finding his this time. You moaned into his mouth, and the feeling made Arthur’s patience shatter. He needed you now. He fumbled with the buttons on his pants, letting you take his mouth. But you were soon moving out from underneath him, turning him over. You made him settle on the bed beneath you and started undressing him. He didn’t quite have the patience for this, but he let you do as you pleased, knowing better than to test your anger. You stripped his shirt away, your hands finding his chest, your mouth finding one of his scars. He went dead still. And just like that, his patience was restored. Likely because of the small act, of you showing love to such an ugly part of him.
You continued, finding every scar you could reach and pressing your lips to it. Lovingly. The feeling made his chest catch in sadness and longing and adoration. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have found someone this perfect, someone to love him, scars and all. The feeling welled up in his chest until you finally broke away, kissing him on the mouth. “You’re ungodly handsome,” you whispered into his mouth. “It’s unfair.”
“Far from it,” he replied. “Nothing like you.”
“Better,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath it, a response to all you were doing to him. Giving him. You moved down, unbuttoning his pants, pulling them off. Doing the same to his undergarments until he was as bare as you. He watched you take in the sight of how hard he was for you, seeing the adoration in your eyes. Pride. Always pride with you. You met his eye and moved up, your body laying flush with his. You kissed him again, your hand finding his cock, stroking him. The feeling was so good he knew he wouldn’t last. He almost let you be anyway. Almost.
Arthur turned you, pulling you beneath him once more. You huffed in annoyance. “Stubborn bastard.”
He smiled. “Won’t last like that, darlin’.”
Your scowl in answer didn’t last long. He lined himself up with you, his cock pushing against your slick, and all your fight fell away, your touch gentle and wanting against him once more. He kissed you hard, reveling in the anticipation of it all for a few seconds before he pushed into you, slow and grating. Nothing on this earth matched the pleasure that shook through him as he did. He bottomed out, trying not to groan too loud. He was unable to keep kissing you. Unable to focus on anything but being buried in your cunt.
“Feel so good,” he muttered.
“So do-” He slammed into you, and your words blurred into a whiny moan.
“Shhh, sweetheart. Need you to stay quiet for me. Don’t want to wake the whole camp.”
You met his eye, a hunger burning in your gaze so hot he wondered whether he’d angered you. “I don’t care about the camp. Take me already-”
He had bucked into you again, so harsh the bed rocked. The last word you uttered gave way to a seething hiss of pleasure, your best attempt at staying quiet.
“There,” he said, starting a slow pace. “Good girl.”
“You did that on purpose,” you breathed, your eyes shutting in response to him rocking into you, his cock hitting so deep he knew this wouldn’t last long.
He chuckled, his happiness uncontainable. You kissed him, your tongue pushing his mouth open. Demanding. He did it right back. His arousal took over once more at what he was doing, at the thought of this being you underneath him, taking his cock so good. You were so tight around him he groaned again, especially when you started to dig your nails into his back from your own need.
He picked up his pace, wanting to feel you let go around him before he gave in. You let out a loud moan, and he didn’t have it in him to quiet you down. He loved the sound. He wanted to hear it again. In fact, he was a fool for doing this in camp and not taking you somewhere far away where he could make you moan as loud as you wanted. You shifted beneath him, bringing your legs up slightly, the new angle so good he clenched his jaw to keep his release at bay. He hadn’t wanted to be too rough with you, but he took this as proof of your toughness and wrapped his arm under your leg, tugging it upward. He hooked your leg over his shoulder and thrust into you hard. You both let out a noise of gratification, the feeling so pleasure-filled it hurt.
He was close. He wanted to watch your orgasm take over again, wanted to see your face this time as he got you there. So he brought a hand down and started circling his thumb against your clit.
“Arthur,” you breathed, your hand finding his forearm and clinging to it as you writhed beneath him. He swirled his thumb faster, making you clench down on him. “Fuck, Arthur.” And your mouth fell open, your chest rising in a held breath. Arthur fucked you through your release, buried beneath his own pleasure at you saying that word to him.
You let out sharp breaths as your high broke through you. The sight of you alone had Arthur teetering on the edge, but those sinful little sounds…
He pushed into you two more times before he came, pulling out and spilling across your stomach. It was ungodly good, pleasure that rendered him numb to anything else. It tore through him so harshly he fell onto you, barely aware that he was crushing you until you tried to pry your leg out from between you.
He took a breath before he could speak again. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.” He used what little strength he had to raise himself off of you.
You smiled at him, the look of it on your blissful, tired face something he wanted to see over and over again. “Not that,” you breathed, still catching your breath.
“What then?”
“If I don’t get away from you now,” you said, taking another breath, your chest heaving. “I’m gonna keep you here all night.”
“Keep me here?” he teased. “This is my bed last I checked. I’m keeping you here.”
You smiled. He kissed you. “Or,” he went on. “I could just use my mouth on you again. You seemed to like that.”
You hummed in approval. “I have good reason to.”
He grinned wide. “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re too busy with your mouth to talk back to me.”
He laughed. “Unbelievable. Like I’m the one talking back when you know good and well it’s you.”
“It’s not me, like I was telling you before you-”
He kissed the argument right off your lips. And in doing so and moving against you, he remembered his spend on your skin, on his now too after he fell against you. He picked his shirt up off the ground and cleaned you both off, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his embrace. Trapping you, more like, as he was sure you weren’t done arguing. Not by the look of defiance still on your face.
He pulled the blanket over you both, crushing you to him, glad to finally be able to have you in his bed. And when you did speak again, he was surprised to hear that it wasn’t about your earlier argument.
“Damn you for being so warm. And sweet. And good to me.”
He grinned, propping his head on top of yours, settling into the tiredness that stole over him. “Careful. That was damn close to a compliment.”
“Yeah, well, you bring out the worst in me.”
Arthur couldn’t help but snicker at that as you relaxed, finally settling against him like you were meant to be there all along.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#high honor arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur morgan#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2#fanfic#writing#nsft#lemon fanfic
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Lich-Queen pt 3
I stepped forward, sketching a quick curtsey. She returned the gesture with inhuman grace and grabbed my forearms. We shook each other's arms, and I said, in her language, “Welcome, Empress. It is an utmost honour.”
That statement alone exhausted most of my Cescereli vocabulary, but she seemed delighted by it nonetheless. “You have made an effort to learn my people's tongue,” she exclaimed. “I am impressed.”
From a spirit, and from their God-Empress, that was high praise indeed. I tried not to melt with delight. “Please, have some refreshments,” I said, switching back to trade-tongue. Compelling a revenant to bring some shrimp over, I left her to coo over the food with her entourage, a crew of heavily scarred spirit women, who, while small, looked like they could have taken down a dragon without breaking a sweat.
I turned back to the shifters, but they had disappeared into the crowd. The number of people had been growing steadily, I realised. It was a minor effort not to crumble and flee, for fear that someone would stop and mock me, so out of place in this hall of grace was I.
As I scanned the milling inhumans for them, a man approached me. He could have easily blended into any group, with his generic dark hair and classical suit, save for his eyes. They were a mismatched yellow and purple, giving him a startling appearance. The Chosen of a god, perhaps. I plastered a welcoming grin onto my face, and he returned it with a genuine smile, unnerving eyes brimming with friendliness.
“I represent Lord Ako,” he told me, before I had to hazard a guess as to his identity. “I wished to warn you of something. Do not take up the shifters' offer. It may be alluring, to bring carnage to those who wronged you, but it will be your downfall.”
Lord Ako was the God of Chaos and Evil, as far as I could recall. Ceredell had been no friend to his followers, and I had extended an invitation to him on the basis that he was an enemy of my enemy. From my limited knowledge of his theology, he had no reason to warn me off from causing carnage. He was a god of evil, after all. By all reasoning, he should have been pro-murder-all-humans.
I told his envoy so, and the man pursed his lips. His purple eye blinked, like a wink, before the golden one followed. “Not all gods were born as such, little Iraela,” he said, a hint of sadness in his honey-voice. “And for all that I- I mean, Ako is the God of Evil, he has no wish to see innocents be hurt.”
“No offence, sir, but that is rather contradictory, is it not? Evil is meant to cause destruction and harm,” I said, gently as I could. “I mean, that's rather like Death going off and healing people.”
The envoy's left pupil contracted. “It is exactly like that,” he said, shaking his head quietly. “You are more accurate than you realise, young Queen. And perhaps you have the smarts to survive after all.” He began walking away, then stopped. “I will tell you this, Lich-Queen: You will live long enough to understand this moment. When you do, do not blame yourself. None of us will hold it against you.” He gave me a sad smile, and slipped away.
What in every accursed being's name? I shook my head. “Whatever, man,” I murmured. “It's not like I've lived my whole life with a cryptic soothsayer of a sister.” Was it too much to ask for a break from all the prophecies and holier-than-thou crap? Evidently not.
The worm of doubt gnawed at my core again. Ramaeria just wouldn't leave me be. She was dead, I knew she was. But that man spoke just like her. He was not her, of course. That would be paranoid of me, to presume that the strange Chosen was out to get me on behalf of my dead sister.
But that line about Death… Were the Gods conspiring against me? Of course they were. I should have seen it all along.
No, that was ridiculous! I was nobody, to garner such attention. Yet here was the Spirit Empress, and most of the Elven Council, and perhaps half of the Shapeshifter triarchy. I was someone. And not just that: I was Queen.
I just had to prove it.
With perhaps more force than necessary, I grabbed one of my ghouls. “Find the ‘shifter Matriarch and tell her to meet me in my throne room. We have business to discuss,” I told him.
Stalking off to my rooms, a plan began formulating in my head, bubbling like the chef's gumbo that all us lesser beings gulped down, whilst the nobles feasted. I was going to make sure I never suffered that again.
My heels hit the floor in a harsh staccato, clicking against the stone floor. I slammed open the door, heart festering with rage. I was going to be Queen, and they would all recognise me for what I was.
Starting with my love. “Iraela,” he murmured through cracked lips, when he saw me. His chest was littered with bruises, and his cut lip dribbled blood. He had tried and failed to escape, as I expected. I shook my head disappointedly.
“I thought you smarter than that, Tamaris,” I whispered in his ear, kneeling next to me. “You should have known I am smart enough to stop whatever you do. You cannot escape me, any more than my sister could outrun her fate.” But she had. I had meant to break her, and she had the gall to deny me the pleasure.
Tamaris let out a choking laugh. “I thought you smarter than that too, Iraela. You should have known I had to try nonetheless. I cannot let you do this. I will not let you do this.”
My wrath reached boiling point, and I slapped him. Claws raked his cheek, blood bursting forth in little red streams. He took the blow with a hiss, then met my eyes. “Even if you control my body, you will never have my soul.” He laughed bitterly. “The most farcical aspect of this is that I would have given you my heart on a plate, had you asked. We could have been great together.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “In another world, we would have been great. But this is the one we live in, and I will rule. It is a shame that you have chosen the stand against me, but it will hardly impede my coronation.” An idea occurred to me, and I added, “It might even aid it.”
Snapping my fingers, I called a revenant into the room. This needed to be a surprise, which meant my ghouls, precious though they were, were not the men for the task. Tamaris cringed as the shambling corpse of his brother-in-law grabbed his shoulder, and his sister tied a halter around his neck. “Ira, please,” he hissed, glimmers of fear sprouting beneath his facade like the shimmering of fish scales in a murky pond. “Don't. It's not too late. We- we can undo th-”
A revenant clasped their hand over his mouth, and I watched Tamaris be dragged out of my room. Quietly, I fussed with my hair, tightening the braids and puffing up the curls. There was really nobody to impress, anymore. My new allies cared not for my court manners, my pallid skin and my claws. Finally I belonged. In a fit of pique, I undid my hair, letting it fall loose around my waist, and gave a triumphant grin to the monster in the mirror.
Read part 1 here & part 2 here
#I call this piece 'Iraela loses her shit for 10min straight'#This entire story is just her descending into insanity#You know you've fucked up when the god of evil himself drops by to tell you to take a chill pill#my work#writeblr#writing#my writing#creative writing#writerscommunity#fantasy#spilled ink#writing community#short story
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Some poems I’ve written over the past two years
The Fragile Geisha
I bump into the wooden bookshelf,
And instinctively grab
For the mug at its top, painted with
A scarlet-robed geisha.
The clattering of ceramic skin against oak
Fails to disturb her, and despite the danger
Her eyes remain closed,
Her expression calm.
The arrow she holds pointed towards
The floor that nearly destroyed her.
The same as the last night we drank,
Together,
Of green tea and the moon.
A cheap teapot had whistled, and as I ran,
The old wooden floor
Creaked in complaint.
Despite the chilly autumnal wind, the water
Seemed hotter than normal.
As if it wished to warm
The rest of the aging house as well.
I filled her mug to the brim,
A trickling stream
Scorching ceramic skin
As it mixed with powder and leaves.
And I waited for her to prepare the tea
Under the moon's light.
Deus Ex Machina
Whirring, Ticking
The ancient machine activates
Intent on granting
An old man's dying wish.
“Eternal Prosperity”
Would come at the cost of too many
For mankind to reach!
Set on a path that leads to
Self-destruction,
They’ve forgotten
His first wish, his reason
To bring the machine,
The mechanical god
To life long ago.
To bring a young girl
Who'd perished long ago
Back to her father's side.
Wishing for decades, he forgot
The face of the one who drove him;
If only he knew!
She'd never fallen, and returned
Changed, but alive.
If he would only look in her eyes
One final time,
He’d know his wish was granted...
Unexpected Downpour
I open my mouth, but not a word flows out.
What can I say? How can it be done right?
I’m just not sure.
One thousand words pour through my mind,
But which to choose? And what to ignore?
It’s all too much.
I close, leaving my torrential thoughts behind.
You’ll never know the words I cast aside.
Perhaps I should apologize,
For being too afraid of what could be
And whether you’d understand.
Or perhaps it’s better left unsaid.
The storm within my mind rages on,
And my lovely day is ruined by rain.
Star-Crossed Midnight
The clock ticks on,
Gears turning along,
As moonlight shines through the pane.
And there I sit,
Letting blankets shift,
As I enjoy the ending of day.
The blackened sky
Holds stars snuffed out by lights
From the streets so far below.
How I wish that I could see
That vast tapestry
Of glimmering sparks above;
Those eternal lights
Piercing through twilight
In the forest I once had called home.
But the cold, dark skies
Of this peaceful night
Are everything the city knows.
And as I rest,
It feels like the clock slows.
The Sakura Tree
A thousand flowers bloom,
But each will find their doom,
In one week, countless petals
That shall wilt far too soon.
Blossoms holding tiny lives
That will fade before my eyes,
And I wonder if this really is how
Things are meant to be.
Are all such beautiful things
Destined to merely fade away?
Only my memories keeping them
From disappearing into the gray?
If only I could hold them close
And keep each one alive;
Perhaps by my fervent wish
These blooms may yet cease to die.
But in a way, I suppose
There is a point to all this death;
It is in this fragile artistry
That these flowers are their best.
So I’ll let each life continue on
And someday disappear.
I’ll enjoy their fleeting grace and charm
Until they bloom again next year.
Impulsive Desire
When you’re seventeen, and in love
with that boy you hooked up with last month
who always smiles and laughs at your jokes
no matter how bad they are,
do you really get into
that cheap car your dad bought you
and drive over to that one kid
who says they’ll give you a tattoo?
Do you hand them a quick sketch,
and a couple of names,
and ask for your love to be memorialized
in blood and black ink?
You’re so smitten, at the moment,
you don’t even consider how
in a few years, you’ll be over him
and wishing the oath on your arm could be erased.
And sure, it could. But then
you’d have to think about it:
the words he’d said that night,
and how you’d thought you could devote yourself at seventeen.
History has a way of catching up
no matter what you do;
but such brazen, impulsive acts
keep it from having to move at all.
You fueled your fire with bloodstained ink.
Now, though it’s burnt out, the cinders always remain.
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It's the small things. Josiah Trelawny/Arthur Morgan
Just a few thoughts I had about their relationship.
• Arthur never stops being amazed by Trelawny's magic, no matter how many times he sees it, his heart jumps a little. Trelawny loves this, but keeps his magic minimum so as to make it extra special for Arthur.
• Trelawny loves Arthur's arms the most. Being a fiercely independent creature, he finds comfort in knowing that in Arthur's arms, he finds a sense of belonging and safety. The only real place he does so. Arthur loves holding Trelawny, the only time the magician truly relaxes is when he's wrapped up in his arms. Otherwise, his mind is running a mile a minute.
• Arthur can draw almost anything from memory. Although he likes to use references, if pushed he can easily draw and sketch anything to a tee. When Josiah leaves for long stretches, his book quickly becomes fill up with the man's faces and expressions. When he returns, Arthur hides the book which Josiah inevitably finds and eagerly makes up for lost time.
• Josiah loves to sing. Cornish ballads are some of his favourites, but he rarely does so. It's the only part of himself he's actually a little shy of. Only when he's with Arthur, alone and secure, will he hum those merry old tunes he can still remember from his younger years. Arthur loves Josiah's singing to the point of yearning. It makes him hum in his heart; he wishes others could hear it too, but never presses the issue.
• They don't argue much, usually they have spits and spats over small things, but outright arguing is rare. Arthur likes to listen, and Josiah is quick to see problems. But when they do argue its biting and cruel. Josiah knows where to strike hard with his tongue and Arthur knows where to strike with his fists. They each come out worse for wear, but they make up quickly, too desperate for each other's forgiveness to do otherwise.
• Josiah kissed Arthur first. It came as a damned shock, and Arthur too uncertain of his own worth, had quickly dismissed it as a joke, hurting Josiah in the process. It took a second kiss, hard and fierce under a sprig of mistletoe to convince him Josiah really meant it. Since then, Arthur carries a sprig with him wherever he goes.
• Josiah suffers from Insomnia. He calls it his 'mania' a time where he often comes up with some of his best ideas. But eventually the sleeplessness starts to bite own on his soul, and he struggles to focus, to think, to even be polite. When that happens, Arthur will take him to a tent, and hold him, talking about this and that and anything he can think of until Josiah finally succumbs to sleep.
• Arthur suffers from nightmares. Some of the worst hours have been spent locked in unbridled terror by his own imagination. No matter what he does, the ghastly images and fears catch up to him in his dreams. Like a wolf stalking him at the edge of his vision. He's screamed and thrown punches in the dead of night, caught in a trap of terror. But no matter what happens during them, at the end he always finds Josiah: hovering close, concerned, kind and ready to listen should he need it.
#morlawny#josiah trelawny#rdr2 fandom#rdr2 fanfic#red dead redemption josiah#red dead redemption 2#Arthur Morgan#Josiah Trelawny/Arthur Morgan#Fanfiction#drabble
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@seatedsacrifice You didn't ask for this, but your thing gave me brain worms. So I slap you with the pool noodle of feels.
Hadianna had been trying to scrounge up what she could food-wise for her daughter. Everything was slowly withering, suffocated by the dark aether pouring in on them. She had been bleeding it off her daughter, so she did not turn. An offer she had extended to Polaris, though he had refused to take it. However, that did not surprise her, given that Polaris was like her Ophi. Both would sooner sacrifice themselves to save those they loved.
The door slams against the wall as a man in back robes comes in, practically carrying Polaris. At first, she wants to demand who they are but then sees that mask. It is one she knows well. The following rush of emotions is halted when she sees Polaris's state. Black ichor stains his side, and one of his hands is now clawed. A whimper left her as she sees the ichor running down his chin and that one pupil had changed to a vertical slit. He was turning slower than the others but still turning.
“ I can keep him from losing himself long enough for you two to say goodbye, but make it quick Little One.”
The words are spoken quickly as her father sets him in an armchair. Hadianna is still trying to process things as she watches her daughter. The child was wasting no time, crawling into his lap. Why? Why did it have to turn out like this? To lose him twice… how was she supposed to recover? She would have to fake it for Aurora. As a mother, she had a duty to her child, and that was when it really hit her—goodbye meant that her father would whisk them to safety. She knew Polaris was too far gone to go with them.
“Foire, I need you to be good for this man and your mother.”
Hearing him speak was enough to get her moving. Now was not the time to sit idle and process things. This would be their last moment with him, and she needed to ensure they counted. Hadianna knew that most did not remember who they had been before. At least, that had been the trend with those that had already turned. She needed to leave him something, at the very least.
Reaching the desk, she ripped open one of the drawers and pulled out paper and the means to write. Quickly she wrote for him, giving him a name if he did not remember his own. There were also tidbits for him, something he could hold onto. She pulled out a scratch of the three she had meant to turn into a painting to fold up with the note. Hadianna signed the note and folded it with the sketch before going over to him. She was just in time to see him carefully putting a necklace on Aurora—that matched the one he was wearing.
Hadianna carefully picked up her daughter and handed her off to Daddy. That it was her own father that found him and did this was not a surprise. He and Ophi had always been close. A rare thing for in-laws but something she had always appreciated. Her father took Aurora and opened what she could only describe as a portal. There wasn’t much time left. He had already shifted more in the last few minutes.
“Sssssstarlight.”
The S bore an obvious hiss to it, and she could see scales blooming up his arms. Hadianna sat on his lap, one hand moving to cup his face. She pressed her forehead against his and shifted closer once she felt his arms wrap around her. Was she willing to risk the Ichor? Yes, she was. Hadianna needed to ensure he knew he was loved even in these last moments. At worst, her aether would lean toward darkness for a little while.
A soft hum left her before she pressed his lips to his. Hadianna released a small sound as he quickly deepened it. She felt his arms around her tighten as a soft sound left him. The kiss was suddenly halted as he whimpered before letting her go. Hadianna looked into his eyes and now also saw scales blooming across his cheekbones. She pressed her note and the sketch into one of his hands before kissing his cheek. “ I love you, I will always love you.”
“ I love you too, now you to go.”
She didn’t want to go, and he moved her off his lap even as she hesitated. Hadianna closed her eyes and nodded before opening them again. He was firm clutching the note she had slipped into his hand. With a shaking breath, she turned and walked over to her father. Aurora seemed already quite comfortable with him as his face was buried against his neck. Hadianna glanced back only to find that he had gone limp, and the transformation was now in full swing. Without a word, she followed her father through the rift.
A groan left him as he woke. Everything hurt, and he felt the hunger gnawing at him. Who was he? Where was he? This appeared to be a house and a chair, and he was sitting in a chair. Something was in his hand, thick parchment folded neatly yet half crumpled. Why was it there? Who had put it there?
There was a vague feeling that others had been here at some point. A chest of toys suitable for a small child lay in one corner of the room. He could also taste the residual leftover aether so sweet it made his stomach lurch. It was so potent even as it faded into near nothingness. Perhaps that was who had left the note in his hand, but where were they now?
Slowly, almost methodically, he unfolded it. There was a familiar feeling looking at the hurried and yet delicate looping script. There were two pieces of parchment here, yet this note looked short. Perhaps there was more on the parchment that he didn’t understand yet?
To my dearest husband,
I know that you likely won’t remember anything after you have woken. Not even your name left untouched by the darkness and the transformation it has brought. So let me give you one that has been and always will be yours. You are Ophiuchus. You are my entire world, and it pains me deeply to have to leave you behind, but we do not have a choice. I would attempt to try and explain all the things that you are, but I don’t have the time. Even as I am writing this, the change has already started. With this note is a sketch I did of the three of us. I had meant to turn it into a painting, but time did not allow it. Somehow you managed to find my father, and he will take our daughter Aurora and me to safety. Know that I love you and will always love you.
Your dearest Starlight,
Hadianna
Lilac hues closed for a moment after he was done reading over the note. Hadianna, his wife, had left the note. She had sought to leave him at least something, even if she knew he would not remember anything. How she knew he was not sure, but the foresight was appreciated nonetheless. Though there was no aether on the note, he was getting wafts of it from somewhere else in the house. For the moment, the sketch was left for later. Folded and tucked away into a pocket somewhere that it would not get lost before he moved to the other room to suck down the residual aether there.
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reader impact || first meeting
series masterlist
characters: xiao, albedo
genre: fluff
summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you.
notes: have i read a few genshin impact x game character reader stories and impulsively decided to make one too? maybe. you can't prove anything. i don't know if this will be a series but we'll see :D
xiao's playthrough -
xiao, named as alatus on his streaming platform, has made himself known as a gaming streamer with an awkward personality and blunt words.
he's the type of streamer who wouldn't have a set type of game and would, instead, play whatever his viewers recommended.
valorant? sure, he'll try it out.
hitman? why not?
animal crossing? it's a complete 180 from the other games, but sure.
when one of his viewers recommended genshin impact, he was quick to say yes and search for the game.
once the game finishes downloading, he quickly begins the game.
once the opening cutscene passes, he compliments the overall aesthetic of the game, pointing out the smaller details such as the footprints made by his character and the sound their clothes make when they move.
as always, his expressions are quite monotone to a point where it seems nothing draws his attention towards the game.
one of his mods, however, knows xiao well enough to where he knows which character he would like.
they convince xiao that the game is worth sticking with towards the second half of chapter 1, act 1.
he doesn't understand but he trusts his mods so he promises to continue.
it takes a few hours, especially because of the grinding, but a few streams later he's finally made it.
after fighting a one-sided argument with cloud retainer, he immediately begins his trek to the wangshu inn. and yes, trek, he enjoys walking/gliding through the world of teyvat rather than fast traveling everywhere.
he walks up the stairs to the top floor of the inn, resting his hands in his lap as the cutscene begins.
"to the blind, everything may not be as it appears..."
xiao is normally stoic during games, even ones with scenes made to fluster the player and catch them off guard.
but not this time.
once xiao's character is faced with yours, he just stops. his chat is spamming messages, asking if he's okay and if he's actually emoting for once.
he just stares at your character for a good five minutes.
and trust me, at least half of his viewers clipped that.
"... who are they?"
that was his only question after those minutes of silence. never before had he been attached to a character within the first few minutes of meeting them. his mind is racing and all he can think about is how amazing your character design is and how nice your voice is and how cool your character is and--
oh right, he's streaming right now...
anyway, the more your conversation goes on, the more he loves your character.
you're just so sassy and snappy but he loves you either way.
once you turn away with your back towards the camera, he just stares.
he stares at the intricate tattoo on your exposed arm and the mask hanging off of your belt.
and then you're gone.
his face drops so quickly and his viewers are very quick to point it out. he grimaces once paimon starts talking and he's very tempted to just speed through her dialogue.
he just wants to see you again.
once he hears from verr goldet that you've never smiled (at least around her), he immediately turns to the camera and says, "we better make them smile in this game."
once he finds out about your favorite food, he's already asking his viewers if he's able to get the recipe for it.
the next time he gets to talk to you, his face just lights up once he sees your character standing on the balcony.
however, once his characters tell you about rex lapis's death, his heart sinks when he hears how sad your voice becomes, even if your tone is still as harsh as before.
he gets all sad again when the quest ends and he has to wait to unlock the next archon quest.
he ends the game there and decides to spend the last few minutes talking to his viewers.
"i'll stream genshin again soon."
his viewers all know it's only because he met you.
albedo's playthrough -
albedo often does art streams and the occasional science-y stream.
if he does games, he mainly uses them to admire the art/mechanics of the gameplay.
genshin impact was one of those games he decided to play on his own solely because of the beautiful scenary.
(and the opportunity to draw more characters).
he's definitely the player that cares about elemental reactions above all else. pretty much every character he uses is built for elemental damage instead of physical.
most of his genshin streams are him walking around teyvat and pointing out the scenary.
he was definitely excited for the dragonspine event because that meant a better view of teyvat!
what he wasn't prepared for, however, was the reveal of a new character: you.
he isn't too into looking at the updates for genshin on his own, so he didn't find out about who you were until his stream asked about it.
he decided to react to the newest updates live since his chat seemed excited to hear his input.
once he pulled up the latest update details, he spent a few minutes talking about the new subzero mechanic.
but once he scrolled down to the characters... OH BOY
he's able to keep his composure but he definitely spends longer talking about you.
he almost gasped when he saw you were the chief alchemist of mondstadt.
combine that with the fact that you rely on elemental damage instead of physical...
your honor, he's fallen hard.
he'll put a countdown on stream to when your character and event drops, even on his non-genshin streams.
speaking of those streams, on the week just before your event, his streams will all be based around you and the information he's seen on you.
his art streams will consist of you and how he thinks your attacks will work just based on the description (he purposely avoided all pictures of your attacks for this stream).
his science-y streams would probably be based on your element.
once your event drops, that's the only thing he'll stream until it's over.
your assistant used to be his favorite character to play as but they just never clicked. it's not like he hates your assistant, it's just he didn't immediately fall in love with them.
his party definitely has your assistant in it, though.
he would have normally taken his time to look around dragonspine and admire the new scenery, but he couldn't help but speed through it until he finally gets to see you onscreen.
once the cutscene officially introduces you in front of a canvas, he's internally panicking.
you like art too?! and science?! how perfect can you be?!?!?!
he will genuinely feel bad when he scares the hilichurls because he knows that that's what you were sketching.
"who are you? why did you alarm them?"
NOW HE FEELS EVEN WORSE
even when you tell him you've finished sketching, he wants to make it up to you :((
if he were able to, he would've lured more hilichurls to let you sketch more.
some people in his chat would probably spam him to skip your dialogue because it's so wordy, but that's the exact reason why he listens to it all.
he likes listening to your character ramble on, especially because you have a soothing voice.
anytime your character does their idle animation where you give life to something, he will always let it play. even if your dialogue is finished before the animation, he would not progress until it's completed.
once your character asks for help, he would immediately agree before you finished your sentence.
man just wants to spend more time with you.
he likes staring at the tattoo on your neck whenever the camera is close to you. he just thinks it's really pretty on you.
once your other nonplayable assistant begins talking, he'll skip through the dialogue. he doesn't care if it goes more in depth into this world's alchemy, he just wants to hear it from you.
"hmm, looks like the potion's ready. i'll try a little first."
"please don't..."
he doesn't want you to try it just in case it hurts you :(
anytime he is allowed to walk freely with you around, he'd definitely put his traveler character next to you for a few minutes and just let you two stare at each other.
someone asks him why he spends a few minutes doodling on his desk when you talk.
he shows them the notebook that he had been writing notes in. it's filled with little doodles of you and some more information you give on the world of alchemy.
for future streams the involve you, he'd set up another camera to show the notes and doodles he's making about you.
sometimes he'll spend a few minutes on a single section where the camera is focused on you just to recreate the picture in the notebook.
he absolutely loves whoever planned out the camera angles because of how cute you look in every one of them.
he definitely gets a bad vibe from rosaria when she hints at the fact that you may be using alchemy against him.
he will defend you and alchemy to his grave!
that one scene where you create a flower in front of you is one he will always treasure.
he makes sure someone clipped that moment just so he can draw that, make it a print, and put it on his wall.
since most of his viewers most likely consist of artists, he will encourage them to draw you and send him fanart. he will put them all on a wall and dedicate every picture that goes there to you.
"if i one day lose control... destroy mondstadt... as well as everything around it..."
"huh?"
"will you be there to stop me?"
"wait... no."
if people were only listening to that portion, they would still be able to hear the pout on his face.
he'll end the game there but change his stream into an impromptu art stream.
he will only be drawing you in nice situations to distract himself from the fact that there is something going on with you.
"hm? what do you mean something's wrong with (name)? i have no idea what you're talking about."
poor boy's in denial...
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact scenarios#reader impact#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact xiao#genshin impact albedo#xiao x reader#albedo x reader#genshin xiao#genshin albedo#genshin impact xiao x reader#genshin impact albedo x reader#genshin xiao x reader#genshin albedo x reader
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The Captain’s Error
Summary: Steve Rogers is protective over his bookworm friend, until an attack makes him realize he failed his one objective. The question is, will she forgive him?
Warnings; Fluff, angst, and then a bunch of great smut. Wrote this for a friend. WC: 7,144
You had your head in a book again. It was one of the more endearing things about you, had been what captured Steve’s attention when you started working for Stark. If you weren’t working, you lost yourself in whatever novel you were reading at the time, full stop. He was sure he had never seen you reading the same book twice, now that he thought about it. And he did think about you a lot.
And while as much as he loved the sight of you strolling the hallways of the compound with your brows slightly pinched, hips swaying, entirely focused as you consumed every genre imaginable, it also drove him a little crazy. Or a lot crazy, depending on the day.
Because Steve Rogers was first and always a protector, whether he carried the Captain America shield or not, and you were giving him a run for his money when it came to near accidents. Ranging in potential severity, it was like you were programmed clumsy. He wasn’t sure he could handle the burst of fiercely protective and equally jarring adoration that sprung up each time you walked into a wall or door, tripped, or hissed in pain from banging your hip off of a corner. He’d seen you tumble down the stairs once, though thankfully Clint happened to be coming up them at the time and managed to catch you before anything bad happened, before Steve could get to you and demand you just sit in a chair to read.
He wanted to beg you to quit the habit, at this point. He may be super due to the serum, but he was certain you would be the one thing that could kill him, the stress surely too great on his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though, not just because he didn’t want to overstep. He’d overheard you tell Nat, a few months prior, that you needed to stretch your legs a few times a day when you could get out of Tony’s lab and away from your work. Nat had joked that you needed a protector, in that case, because you were surely a liability Tony can’t have had coverage for.
And it was Nat’s simple statement, her joke, that gave Steve the great idea to be just that. Your protector. Whenever he reasonably could, he’d be there for you, organizing his days around your clockwork-like schedule so that when you took those walking while reading breaks, he was around. He convinced himself it was simply his duty-you were an important member of the team, and it was the least he could do. But then, the knowing looks his fellow Avenger’s would throw him, or the way his heart would threaten to beat out of his chest when you would stop to chat with him, kind of gave away that there was a selfish aspect to the self-designed arrangement.
He liked you. And after months of getting to know you better and better, with daily conversations that would lead to movie nights or walks around the compound, he eventually started to love you. It was easy as apple pie to fall in love with you, the resident hacker, hardworking and brilliant and funny as you were.
You’d recently developed a habit of bringing along the copy of the book you’d previously finished, tucked under your arm, and offering it to Steve to read. And while his preferred hobby was sketching-actually, Bucky was the reader of the two of them, he found himself eager to consume the ones you deemed good enough to pass along. Though he didn’t get through them anywhere near as quickly as you did, he found himself in his room alone most nights, flipping through pages that smelled faintly of you.
If you had ever caught on to the reason for his sudden consistent appearances during your lunch and afternoon breaks, you never commented. Sometimes, you had a pinch in your brow that told Steve you were focused on the story, and he would give you space, though the one time he’d tried to back away completely you’d caught his arm, sending electricity shooting through his body, and wordlessly beckoned him to walk with you. He liked those days as much as the ones where you would hold your book open, but rather than read hold long conversations with him, sometimes to discuss the books he’d borrowed, often to just talk about anything and everything.
Steve had learned so much about you. He knew you liked to paint, that you were a fan of the beach but only if you could go into the water, not fritter away on the beach hiding from the sun (because skin cancer, of course), that Autumn was your favourite season and you wanted a dog one day. Your favourite book was The Hobbit but you were a sucker for a good steamy romance. The more he learned, the more he fell if he was honest.
And it wasn’t onesided-as much as he preferred to talk about you, you asked your fair share of questions with a stunning abundance of delicacy, mindful of his history, his life, his differences. And while you sometimes teased him (like when he’d tell Tony to watch his language in front of ladies and he’d see you shoot him a little smirk for it) you never made fun of him, never made him feel like the old man he technically was. And it was like...like you could empathize better than others, maybe because of all the worlds and minds you lost yourself to in the pages of the books, you were better equipped to consider his perspective. To understand why he became self-critical when the world was counting on him, and then gently coaxing him out of his dark thoughts to offer him a different point of view or a reminder that he couldn’t carry the weight of the world alone.
But Steve didn’t feel alone when he was with you.
-
It was coming up on a year since his new daily routine with you had begun. He tried not to miss both of your breaks in the same day if he could help it, but sometimes duty called and as much as he missed you during missions, he knew he couldn’t skip on them just to follow you around. You would probably lose it if he did.
Though it was tempting to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y to keep an eye on you, he hadn’t, but it was tempting. It was early fall, the weather still warm but a slightly crisp edge to the breeze that seemed to act as a siren call to you, your feet always pattering away and out of the building to wander the compound’s property. But there were more obstacles outside, more hazards that had him imagining you upside down in the fountain or covered in poison ivy from a tumble near the thicket on the east side of the property.
He’d been quick to have Tony call in special landscapers when he’d thought of this, just to remove all dangerous plants. It was a service to everyone there, really.
Today, he couldn’t spend time with you, because Nat needed him for a mission to nab a Hydra agent that you had managed to uncover the whereabouts of. It was a few hours, tops, but he was boarding the Quinjet when he glanced around and watched you wander out the front doors, head in your book. The smirk on Nat’s face was enough to prevent him from running back down the ramp and instead turn to hit the ramp recall button. He was being over cautious-it was a bright day and there were plenty of others on the compound property who would notice if you had an extended absence from your lunch.
When he entered the cockpit, his friend opened her mouth to tease and Steve cut her off by raising his hand in a wordless request for silence on the subject. She merely laughed and made no further comment. It wasn't like he hadn’t already heard her opinion on the subject.
The HYDRA agent in question was one known to Nat, so Steve let her take the lead on capturing him while thoughts of you fluttered in the back of his mind. He did give her a look when she punched him an extra time, the broken-nosed agent's hands bound behind him as he was strapped into the Quinjet. She rolled her eyes but relented. Once back in the cockpit, however, she started on Steve- ‘Just tell her how you feel...ask her on a date...you really think she’d say no to Captain America?’
Ah, but that was the question, wasn’t it? Because whether one saw him as Steve Rogers or Captain America, the reality was that he was forever both, each at the same time, which meant that dating him came with a lot of baggage. He knew you well enough to know that you saw him first and foremost as your friend, Steve, but all the same, you were as aware as anyone of what his title meant to the world, the duty he had to fulfil and the dangers that came with that territory.
And if he was protective over you simply tripping over your own feet, it was nothing compared to the fierceness of his need to safeguard you from any and all threats. You were already a valuable target-no combat training or powers to speak of, but a big brain that did some seriously complicated and involved work for Tony Stark and the Avengers-throw dating one of them into the mix and you would be priority one. Whoever took you would own the team.
You lived on the compound for this very reason. At the initial insistence of Tony himself once he’d found you (you were skilled enough to cover your tracks in your underground hacking over the years, but eventually Stark caught up with you and begged you to join the team). You’d told Steve you’d resisted at first, believing you could work for Stark without needing to remove yourself from your studio apartment and the routine you had in your quiet life, but then Loki’s attack on New York had happened and you happily moved, keen to avoid being stomped on by aliens.
A call came through the Quinjet then, a screen appearing over the centre console and revealing Bucky’s face over the caller ID. Nat answered as Steve focused on bringing the jet into the air, punching in the coordinates home.
“Hey Buckaroo,” Nat quipped as Bucky came into view with a tense expression on his face. Seeing as he often looked like this, Steve paid no attention and simply called his greeting as he put the auto-pilot on. “What’s with the long face? And where are you?”
“First of all, you can call me Barnes, I don’t like you enough for nicknames,” He began, and Steve smiled at the banter as his eyes took in the unfamiliar background just insight over Bucky’s shoulder.
“Aww, and here I thought we were besties,”
Steve interjected, “Bucky, are you in a bookstore?” It wasn’t that it was odd to think of Bucky in such a place, it was just the combination of him calling and the fact that the shop was empty of patrons that caught his notice.
With a sigh, Bucky nodded, “Listen, Steve, she’s alright,” Bucky replied, and Steve narrowed his eyes as his mind started reeling over what exactly that meant. You were okay, but...?
“What happened?” His voice was harsh, and he saw Nat flinch out of the corner of his eye. Bucky knew him too well to not expect his response.
“Well she came out to this bookstore an hour ago, and I guess someone has been watching her when she leaves the compound. Knew she liked to come here,” Steve’s fists clenched as Bucky spoke, “They tried to grab her today but she hit the panic button on her phone and one of our operatives happened to be outside and saw the struggle. He interceded until Sam and I arrived.”
“Was she hurt?” He demanded, willing the Quinjet to move faster. They were only minutes from the compound, but every one felt extended and torturous now because even as Bucky assured him you were more shaken up than anything, Steve wouldn’t believe you were alright until he could see you.
He realized his greatest error, then. In his efforts to ensure he didn't overstep when it came to you, he allowed himself to ignore the instinct that you should, at the very least, be assigned a guard when leaving the compound. And now you’d nearly been taken because you thought it was safe to drive to a bookstore. After all, you weren’t (and really, he loved this about you) programmed to see danger at every corner. He was, and he’d allowed his feelings to cloud his judgement.
“Stop brooding, Steve, Bucky said she’s alright. Sam’s with her back home right now.”
He bristled immediately, “Doesn’t make it any less concerning though, Nat. Clearly, she’s on people’s radars now, we should already have implemented safety protocols for her! She isn’t trained to protect herself, she doesn’t even carry a weapon.”
He could see the compound now and relaxed marginally, running a hand over his face in an attempt to steady and ease his racing mind. After a long pause, Nat spoke up.
“I’ll train her, to defend herself and to use a weapon,” Nat suggested, and he glanced at her in surprise, “Yeah, I don’t mind, I like her, care about her. And we’ll talk to Tony, see what we can do about ensuring she has protection outside of the compound. I’m right in thinking she’s good while in the compound, eh Steve?”
He let out a broken laugh, shaking his head as Nat wiggled her brows suggestively at him. He had to give his friend credit, she did a good job of pulling him from his darker thoughts and refocusing him on the issue at hand. He needed to think of a way to thank her one of these days.
-
It had been a week since the attack and Nat had stayed true to her promise to train you. Now your lunch breaks were spent sparring with the redhead, who was teaching you the basics of hand to hand. Steve had been surprised at your excitement over the suggestion. Now he was pretty impressed with your willingness to learn.
When he’d found you upon returning to the compound, you were wrapped in a thick blanket on the couch of the main living room. Sam was handing you a cup of tea and Tony was on the phone from wherever he was, yelling his assurances that they’d find out who the culprit-currently locked in the compounds jail-worked for and nail them all to the wall. Steve had walked in just as Tony swore and interrupted Stark to remind him to watch his mouth.
You’d turned at the sound of his voice and given him a look so blatantly relieved that he simply pulled you into his chest and hugged you. When he heard your heart rate pick up in response, he told himself it was due to leftover adrenaline and not because of him.
Steve liked to come down to the gym and watch your sessions from a distance, though today there was an additional person in the room-Bucky. You and Bucky had always been close, happy to talk about books for hours on end, to banter and tease to the point where Steve had almost wanted to be jealous, only his best friend had pulled him aside a long time ago to tell him you reminded him of one of his younger sisters.
Now though, Bucky was there for a reason. He was dressed in gym clothes, his long hair tied back off of his face, and was currently waiting patiently as you repeated Nat’s instructions aloud while indicating where on Bucky you would be aiming for each maneuver. Steve realized Nat wanted you to learn to take on an attacker much stronger and bigger than you and internally agreed with the idea.
He smiled as he watched you, eager and almost hyper with focus and determination. Bucky was giving you a bemused sort of look as you repeatedly poked him in his flesh shoulder to illustrate a point. When Nat asked you if you were ready for Bucky to ‘attack’ you, your response was to fall into the relaxed stance with your back to him and give a vigorous nod.
This is where it became...complicated. Probably, it would have been best for Steve to sit this session out, or at least to have been warned of what was going to happen. And the thing was, he trusted Buck with his life. With your life, for that matter. But the moment his super-soldier best friend set his jaw and pressed up behind you, going into attack mode, Steve snapped.
He was moving forward before you’d even got past the first step in your offensive plan.
Being that Bucky was the only other super soldier in the room, he was the only one who knew Steve was watching. You and Nat were focused, Nat calling instructions to you, your head facing in the opposite direction he was storming over from. He grinned at Steve, immediately relaxing his stance and taking a half step back from you. While you turned around to question what Bucky was doing, Nat’s eyes found Steve.
“Well, shit.” She murmured, quiet enough that you probably hadn’t heard.
Bucky’s eyes were still on Steve, and he raised his hands in mock surrender while a knowing smirk tugged his lips up. You spun on your heel to see what he was looking at, just as Steve stepped onto the sparring mat. You had to tilt your head back to gaze up at him, a curious frown replacing your confusion when you saw the look on his face.
“Steve?”
He forced himself to smile, though he’d been tempted to give Buck a shove away from you. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” He replied, pulling his gaze from his friend to meet yours, “I was hoping to speak with you if you don’t mind?” He kept his tone light, actively working to relax because you hadn’t been in any real danger and he didn’t want to offend or upset you.
You hesitated, giving Steve a once over that told him you didn’t buy his friendly demeanour, before nodding, “Sure, excuse us, Bucky, Nat.” You said, sparing them barely a glance and missing the twin smirks they were both sporting.
“Thank you,” He gestured toward the exit and let you lead the way out of the room. He shot his friends each a glare over his shoulder, though they merely grinned at him, before returning his attention to you. Once in the hall, he wondered if he could have this conversation with you here, and hesitated.
Sensing his unease, you spoke up, “Can we go to your room?”
“Oh, yes,” He blinked, following you in the direction of the elevator. Once the doors closed, he asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to take you to the living quarters' floor and then fell silent, unsure of what to say now that he was calming down. He could sense you were mulling over a question and was proven right when you looked up at him.
“You’re upset with me.”
He glanced down at you in surprise, his heart stuttering at the sad look on your face. “No,” He said truthfully, and although he stayed rooted to the spot, he brought his hand up to rest on your lower back gently, “Not even a little bit, darling. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”
He took a deep breath as you nodded, and had to focus his mind. Being a super-soldier increased his senses, and those abilities didn’t just come into play in the field. His taste, sight, sense of smell, hearing, were always advanced, on, and in moments like this, it could be difficult to focus on just one. He could smell you, the fading scent of your shampoo, the sweat on your skin, and a sweet scent he couldn’t quite place. He could also hear your heart beating, and didn’t miss the way it stuttered when he placed his hand on your back, nor did he fail to hear the slight intake of breath you had taken.
It could be too much, at times. It had taken some time to learn how to focus himself. To find grounding tricks that helped keep him from being overstimulated. But around you, it was another story and he hadn’t quite figured out how to relax around you yet.
And it didn’t help matters that you were reacting to Steve more and more in the close confines of the elevator; your pupils were dilating, your heart rate was increasing, and fuck, that sweet smell was increasing and it was driving him...a little feral.
It was a relief when the doors opened, pulling in a wave of fresh air that cleared his head enough to remember to move forward. He walked to his room with you in silence, clearing his throat at the door, which opened at his command, then followed you in. He remained next to the door, though you continued into the living room that separated open space from his bedroom. You looked around, eyes widening in surprise when you saw him so far away.
“You better not be about to give me really bad news, Steve,” You quipped, arching a brow at him and crossing your arms. “Seriously, who’s dying?” And here he had hoped that by giving you space, he would be easing any discomfort you might have with the situation.
He laughed at your words, grateful as ever that you seemed to understand him and knew how to diffuse the thick tension better than he ever could. Moving further into the room, Steve made a point of keeping his distance from you, almost edging around the space to give you a clear path to the door. You frowned as you noticed this gesture, your eyes narrowing, but did not comment.
“Can I be honest with you about something?” He finally asked, hands on his hips. You nodded and he continued. “I’m very...I care about you, a lot, darling. And I’m protective of you, and seeing you sparring with Bucky just-well, I didn’t like it.”
Your brows rose in surprise as he spoke, nearly disappearing into your hairline, and he worried he was doing a poor job of this. He faltered, unsure of how to properly explain without overstepping.
“You don’t trust Bucky?” You said, knowing the answer but pulling Steve from his silence all the same.
“Of course I do, and I know you can handle yourself. I’ve been watching all week.”
You held his gaze, your arms crossing over your chest, “Good, because once I’m done with Bucky I know Sam wanted to join in, and I’m pretty sure Tony could take a turn with the suit, see if I can handle taking punches from Iron Man-“
“Okay, enough, please,” He pleaded, each image in his mind of you fighting against men who could snap your neck in the blink of an eye now causing him great distress, “I promise it’s not about...about...”
You tilted your head, and even from across the room he could hear your heartbeat pick up a little as you took in his reaction. “Come on, Stevie, be honest with me here.” You finally said, worry flashing over your pretty face.
“I can’t-that is, I don’t like seeing you have to train like this because of my failings. You shouldn’t have to be spending your spare time-“
“You agreed to this from the start, Steve. Nat offered basic training because of MY mistake, not because of you!” You were stepping closer now, eyes never leaving his.
Steve nodded, swallowing heavily, “I did agree, yes, but you didn’t make any mistakes, darling. Everything that happened, that could have happened to you, that’s on me. I should be keeping you safe and I,” He closed most of the gap, now standing just inches from you as you gazed up at him with wide eyes, “I failed you, before, I let my...my feelings get in the way of my better judgement. You should have already had a security detail, then you’d never had been assaulted in the first place. I’m so sorry I let you down, darling. I’ll never forgive myself.”
You gaped up at him and Steve didn’t even blink, eager to watch every expression cross your face as you absorbed his words. His heart was about to jump out of his chest, but somehow he already felt a little lighter for what he’d confessed.
“Steve,” You finally broke the silence, speaking slowly, “You could never let me down. But I...you need to tell me what you mean, w-what feelings?”
Perhaps, had he not been keenly aware of your racing heart, your shallow breathing, he might have faltered, edged the conversation to more neutral grounds. Because admitting how he felt about you was terrifying, even as you looked at him softly.
“I love you,” He replied, the words bursting out of him and he saw the delight flash across your face before he even finished, “I’m in love with you, and I should have told you sooner. You were attacked the other day because I thought I was overreacting by thinking you should have security. I didn’t want you to be unhappy, either, so I made a bad call. Please tell me you’ll forgive me.”
“Did you just say...shit, Steve, of course, I forgive you-there’s nothing to forgive, really,” You were speaking quickly, your cheeks flushing. “I probably would have resisted having security before being attacked, if I’m being honest. Also-“ You suddenly cut yourself off, reached up and grabbed the back of Steve’s neck, drawing him down and crashing your lips to his.
You caught him off guard, but he barely fumbled, immediately kissing you back, one hand gripping your waist, sliding the other to cup your jaw. You pressed your whole body to Steve’s like you’d been wanting to do it for a long time and now that you didn’t have to hold back, you weren’t going to. He couldn’t help it then, he gathered you close in his arms and simply lost himself in you in those moments, the way you tasted, the softness of your lips, the sound of your heart thrumming like a hummingbird. The underlying sweet scent he was becoming more and more aware of.
Steve would have been content to remain like this, exactly here; holding you in his arms while his tongue traced over your lips and you parted them for him to lick into your mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders hard enough that were he not a super soldier, you might have left some bruises. He was a man from a time when it would take a few dates before a kiss even close to resembling this intensity could occur. He hadn't forgotten that part of himself. The part which demanded a sense of propriety, to treat you like the lady you were. To bring you flowers and write you letters and hope you’d say yes to another date, and then another, never lingering on the doorstep too long at the end of the night, and certainly not coming in for drinks.
But you weren’t from that era, and maybe that was one of the reasons he loved you; you were strong-willed and quick-witted, a woman more than capable of handling herself and making her own decisions. Even though you walked into walls and tripped over your own feet, Steve saw your strength and the depths of which you held empathy and kindness for others.
He thought he had an idea of who you were, now, after all this time as close friends.
However, when you traced a hand along his jaw and then let slip a quiet, needy moan, Steve Rogers quite literally came undone at your fingertips.
The kiss morphed then, a little more rough, teeth clashing as you struggled to pull in air but refused to pull away, your fingers sinking into his hair and gripping. He growled, a low rumble because the shift of your body let loose another wave of the scent of your sweet arousal and it assaulted his hyper-senses, his length straining painfully in his shorts, pressed between your bodies.
“St-Steve, I love you too” He grinned as happiness filled him. You sighed heavily when he pulled away only to move his lips down your neck, sucking the skin gently as he went. He moved slowly despite the desperation he felt to have more of you, to give you all of himself, and you seemed to read his mind and understand exactly what he needed to hear-your permission if you so wished. “More, Steve, please. I want you.”
“Fuck,” He groaned, because he knew you meant it and hearing it out loud was almost too much, he couldn’t be this lucky, this trusted. How could he have earned the right to touch you so? As if sensing his turmoil, you suddenly tugged at Steve’s shirt and he let you guide him...straight past his couch and through the open door to his bedroom.
If that wasn’t clear enough permission, Steve didn’t know what would be. With renewed passion, he picked you up and deposited you onto his bed, climbing over top your body and simply drinking in the sight of you, still clothed; sweaty and needy and beautiful, your hair fanned to one side across his duvet, and your hips-
Shit, your hips were rutting up into his, desperately seeking friction.
“Am I-I neglecting you, darling?” He breathed, face just next to yours. You shuddered as his warm breath brushed over your ear, then let out a moan when he placed a hand on your hip, stilling you.
“Stevie, please,” You whispered, and he loved the way you bit your lip, how your pupils were blown wide in desire. And as much as he wanted...everything, with you, he also kind of enjoyed teasing you. He saw no reason to rush, and he was going to take good care of you now.
“Something that doesn’t get spoken of,” He began, leaning his weight onto one elbow so that he could trace his free hand across your body. Skipping the most sensitive bits and making a point of touching only your thin gym clothing, “Is how the enhanced abilities of super-soldiers like me don’t just apply to battle.”
He let that sit between you, watching your face as you trembled under his touch before your eyes snapped up to meet his in surprise. “Like, you can hear my heart beating?” You asked, your face flushing even more than it already had been, heat rolling off of you in waves.
Steve nodded, lips tugged into a confident smirk, “Exactly. Among other things,” He brought both hands to the top of your leggings, hooking his thumbs in. He started to drag them down, “I can smell you, darling, how worked up you are. You smell amazing, you know.” The leggings came off and your hips moved again as you let out the filthiest little moan at his words.
“Fuck,” You were trying to push down your panties. Steve gripped them in his hand, bunching the fabric and, with no real effort, tore them off of you. He’d buy you more. You giggled then, as he tossed the torn remains behind him and then brought his lips back to yours, meeting you in another passionate kiss.
Once he had you distracted with his lips, he quickly slid his hand over your thigh and down your now very wet pussy, moving between your folds to dip two fingers inside of you. Groaning, Steve instinctively rutted his hips into the bed, his erection impossibly hard now. You whimpered, clenching around him as he teased you with slow, come-hither motions with his fingers. He moved his thumb to your clit and experimented gently, seeking out the right way to...yes, there it was.
“Steve!” You cried out, hips bucking as he brought you to the edge. Steve was enraptured by every expression, every sound you made. You were more than beautiful, you were everything.
“That’s it, darling,” He whispered into your ear, panting from arousal, “You feel so good, don’t you? I’ll take care of you. You can let go.”
You whined a little, eyes rolling and your hands now gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly, and he felt the first wave of your orgasm as your body stiffened before your head fell back and you let out a loud yell of his name as you came. He slowed his movements but didn’t stop, drawing the bliss out for as long as he could as you trembled and jerked in his arms. Even when you collapsed back into the bed, he kept going, until a stutter in your heart rate gave way to your overstimulation and he eased back with a grin.
“S-shit,” You gasped, your eyes opening and seeking his, “How the fuck did you do that?”
Steve chuckled, his brows knitting together in confusion, “Do what?”
You seemed to grapple for words, then gestured vaguely at your lower half, “Steve you made me cum with just-just your fingers! I can’t even do that!”
“Then how do you...”
“My vibrator, but after what you just did I don’t think I’ll be able to look at it the same now.”
Steve laughed loudly, then sat up and pulled his shirt off, eager to feel your skin against his. You watched him, eyes wide in anticipation. “You feel alright, darling? We can stop, just say the word.” He reached down and stroked your cheek affectionately. Focusing on your comfort helped Steve keep from becoming overwhelmed by you, your smell, your heartbeat, the fucking look in your eyes.
Your hand covered the back of his, holding it against your cheek firmly, “I never want to stop, Steve,” And then, before he could process the want in your tone, “Can I touch you?”
He groaned, jumping off the bed to tear off his shorts and briefs, baring himself completely to you. Automatically, his hand fell to grip his length, and then he tuned back into you on the bed. Your breath had caught, and Steve looked toward you in time to see your jaw drop, eyes on his body. “You didn’t say please.” He joked, and your eyes flicked up to meet his, a smirk tugging your lips up.
You sat up then, shucking off your shirt and bra before his eyes, “Please?” You said softly, tossing your clothes aside. Now it was Steve’s turn to gape as he drank in your every curve, “Please, Stevie, can I touch you?” You licked your lips. Fuck.
“Yeah,” He breathed, struck momentarily dumb, but when you giggled he realized he stood frozen at the edge of the bed. Clearing his throat, Steve sank to his knees on the bed next to you and pulled you against him, dipping his head down, “Touch me.” He whispered, then pressed his lips to yours.
You moaned into his mouth, swallowing his when your hand found his length and gripped him, stroking slowly. His hips bucked in response and Steve quickly brought his hands to your hips, holding you tight against him as he lowered you back onto the bed. Laying over you, Steve eased your legs apart and settled between them, his cock resting against your thigh. He broke the kiss and met your gaze again.
“I want you. I trust you.” You promised, your hand tilting him toward your core, “Please Steve, I want you so badly.”
“Fuck. Darling, you gotta tell me if anything is too much, alright?” You nodded, your hips now wriggling desperately. He drove his hips forward then, slowly parting your folds and sinking into you in one motion. “Oh, darling...” He sighed, eyes on your face.
“Steve!” You whimpered, and he could feel you clenching around him even as he stilled, waiting for you to adjust to him. You wrapped your legs around him, signalling he could move, and Steve started a slow pace, dragging in and out of you.
Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, Steve closed his eyes and focused-first, on the feel of you around him, of your curves pressed into his body, then onto the sound of your heart beating, the way the air puffed out of your lungs in little half gasps. He moved without thought, using you as a guide to decide his pace, happy to draw as many moans from you for as long as possible. He felt you rolling your hips slowly, the movement sinking him into you deep on each downward thrust, and he grunted at the perfection of the sensation.
“How do you feel?” His voice was a breath in your ear. He had propped himself up with one arm and now ran the other down the length of your torso, pausing at every curve to grip your soft flesh. You moaned out each time he did, your walls clenching him tighter. “Because I’ve never felt so good in my entire life, darling. You’re perfect.”
Whimpering again, your hands sliding over the muscles of his broad chest before coming to hold his shoulders. “S-so good, Stevie, I can’t fucking stand it, you feel so good,” Your back arched slightly and Steve dropped his mouth to your breasts, taking turns between them to lick over your nipples. You sunk one of your hands into his hair, pulling his face against your body, and then cried out and the same moment he heard your heartbeat swell, “I’m going t-to, oh shit, shit!”
“That’s right, come for me, let go again beautiful,” Steve sighed in content in the brief moment before you toppled over the edge, your barely open eyes meeting his before snapping shut.
Your entire body went rigid as you came, your cunt clenching viciously around Steve, begging him to follow you but he resisted, pulling his head from your chest to watch your face. The expressions that flashed over you, the way your lips parted to let out a continuous stream of moans and curses, were enough to drive him beyond wild. The resulting increase in wetness made it fractionally easier for him to move within you.
You were panting heavily, your body relaxing back into the bed and Steve pinned you there with his slowly thrusting hips. You sounded wrecked when you spoke moments later. “Need to take care of you, let me please,” You begged him, pushing at him.
Steve met your eyes, unsure of what you meant, “What do you want, sweet girl?”
He felt you trying to rotate your hips to no avail, pinned by his strength, “I know y-you’re holding back, I can take it. Please, Stevie, fuck me, I can take-“
Steve almost came at your desperate plea and stopped moving, taking a moment to gaze at you in wonder, before pulling back. With quick, careful movements he lifted you off the mattress. Walking on his knees, he held you in his arms, still buried inside of you, until he had your back pressed against the wall at the head of his bed.
He growled then, dropping his hands to roughly hold the flesh of your hips and then beginning a ruthless pace, pounding into you over and over as you cried out for more and he was fairly certain he’d never known pleasure such as this. You were trembling, letting his strength hold you against the wall, your hands now both clinging to his hair, drawing his face to yours to kiss, tongues fighting each other for dominance.
It was the hottest fucking thing. You were the sexiest, most beautiful fucking woman and it only took a minute more to find his release, pleasure rippling up his back before he slammed you into the wall-one hand cradling your head protectively, and roared your name as he filled you. He came long and hard, easily the best orgasm of his life. “Fuck, fuck,” He gasped, kissing along your jaw before nibbling down your neck, his thrusts sloppy and slow now as he floated down to reality.
It was already easier for Steve to focus on you, his sense reaching out to ensure you were alright before he managed to lift his head and look at you. His serum-infused body was fairly unaffected by the physical aspects, he wasn’t sweating, hadn’t tired. But he was panting a little from the overwhelming intensity of his orgasm. You on the other hand were like Jell-O now, limp in his arms, body quivering and breathing erratic. When he finally looked up, his cock twitched at the blissed-out expression on your face, earning him another little moan as you felt him still hard inside of you.
“Good girl,” He breathed out, holding you steady. He eased out of you slowly, watching as your tight heat leaked out a mixture of fluids. You smelled heavenly, even with the layer of sweat, and he was tempted to lower you onto the bed and taste you. The small whimper you gave, however, warned Steve that you needed to be taken care of.
And so he took care of you, carrying you into his bathroom and helping you to the toilet, leaving you alone for a minute to run to his mini-fridge and pull out a cold glass bottle of water. You were attempting to stand when he walked back in, and Steve quickly put his arms around you, pressing the bottle into your hand, all while whispering sweet nothings to you. Words of praise, of love, comfort, encouraging you to drink the water and then, once he was satisfied with the decent amount you gulped back, he took you to his overlarge bathtub.
It was there that he spent the next hour, holding you in his arms in the warm water, his hands tracing over every curve and dip of your perfect body. You lay content and sleepy in his arms, your slow and steady heart rate enough to tell him you were relaxed until eventually, he thought you were about to fall asleep when you seemed to catch yourself, head raising from his chest.
“Stevie?” You whispered, your voice a little scratchy from overuse.
He brushed his hand over your face gently, smiling down at you, “Yes, darling?”
“Does this mean you’ll be training me from here on out? Because I have some ideas of scenarios and maneuvers I’d like to try...”
Did you enjoy this story? Please consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer 🤍
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#captain america#captain america x female reader#reader insert#fluff#smut#fanfic#steve rogers smut#captain america smut#friends to lovers#requested#captain america x reader#chris evans#chris evans x reader#marvel#avengers x reader#the avengers#steve rodgers#steve rodgers x reader
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Eli/Hawk x Reader: Changes
Request: Can you do a Hawk x reader where they are dating since a long time and y/n tries to handle with his change from Eli to Hawk? @sophiahardy912
A/N: Thought I’d write all cutesy lovey dovey fluffy smutty things but then this angst came out? sorry if i failed you idk what happened here
Words: 2054
Warning: A few cuss words
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Eli wasn't... Eli anymore.
Not just in a metaphorical way – he was Hawk now, inside and out. At first it was a refreshing change – you loved Eli back when he was introverted and lacking in confidence, but now Eli loved himself, and that was surely better.
Confidence is a good thing. Right?
You remembered the day he texted you 'Dig it?' attached to a photo of him – classic brunette gone, dyed down and gelled up to a Blue Mohawk.
The phrase 'dig it' by itself was previously foreign to the boy, so of course the new bold hairstyle was a big shock for you. Not a bad one, just unexpected. Even more unexpected was the new attitude that came with it.
When Eli walked up to you the next day at school, he adopted a strut that came with his new hair and attire. You almost didn't recognize him without one of the comfy sweaters he previously would wear, the ones you would steal borrow when you'd go over to his on date night.
It had been a while since you had one of those date nights – Eli wasn't fond of spending too much time in public, always feeling like people were staring at his lip – so you'd often spend the night at his house, watching some horror movie late in to the night, laughing together at cheap, unconvincing productions. Or, even better – clinging to him when a movie really was scary, finding an excuse to casually entwine yourself around him. You loved how he would turn red every time, as though you haven't been together for a long time now.
The last date night you two had was... unusual, yet exciting all the same.
Eli had been Hawk for a while now, and things were taking a turn for the worse. At first it was nice – Eli would link your pinkie fingers together under the table at lunch, Hawk would put his arm around you as you two walked down the hallways between classes. Eli cowered when anyone would so much as look at him; Hawk would shut down anyone who tried to start with him.
You didn't mind it, so to speak, when he got in to a fight with his former bullies. You were worried, of course, but Hawk knew how to handle himself. He beat the shit out of them and after years of Kyler and co taunting him, it felt like fair karma at play. You were actually proud. Hawk came home on cloud nine that day and you were all for being his cheerleader; it ended up being a night of great celebrations.
However, these days he was getting exceedingly violent with anyone who would look at him wrong. It was one thing paying back those who wronged him, but the whole karate thing was getting out of hand; it came to a red line for you once you saw his treatment of Demetri, the only one other than you and Miguel who accepted him far before he accepted himself.
You two had gotten in to a serious argument, Hawk stating that Demetri's treatment is his own doing for being such a nerd, you telling him to grow up.
A couple of days went by with you giving him the silent treatment. Hawk thought he'd just slide in by you the next day at lunch, kiss you and everything would be fine – but you weren't having it. If he didn't mind throwing Demetri under the bus so quickly, how long until that was you instead?
Not talking to Eli proved harder to do than you thought. After so long together it was strange, suddenly having this wall between you two. It had only been a couple of days of you riding the bus to school rather than on his motorcycle with him and you already felt an insistent pit in your stomach that refused to go away, no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself with schoolwork and your other friends.
So unsurprisingly, when Hawk texted you asking you to meet him at an unfamiliar address, you agreed.
It was dark out – the only people you saw around the road you were going down were a couple of shady looking dudes, only obviously under the influence.
You checked your phone again to make sure you were going the right way.
“You made it!”
Eli's voice startled you, making you look up from your phone. Illuminated by the blue florescent lights from the shop he stood outside of, he seemed... relieved.
“Yeah,” you answered simply, your eagerness to make up disapparating in to an unconfident hesitation. “what are we doing out here?”
“Look,” Hawk took one of your hands in his. “I don't wanna lose you. And if that means being nicer to Demetri or whoever of those dorks, whatever. I can live with that. But not without you.”
You hated how he knew exactly what to say, even if it wasn't prefect. It was enough.
“You didn't answer,” you said, allowing a flirtatious tone to creep up. “What are we doing here?”
Eli smiled, a smile that was more Hawk than Eli, and pulled you in to the shop after him, knowing he was well on his way to winning you over.
“This is my guy, Rico,” Hawk introduced, fist bumping the older man. Between the familiar name, funny looking chair and sketches on the walls, you knew exactly where you were and what was about to happen.
“Eli?” you tentatively called as Hawk guestued for you to sit in a chair behind the funky-looking one. Rico adjusted said chair and motioned for Hawk to come over. Eli sat on the chair, his back to you.
“You sure about this?” Rico asked, preparing ink on a side table. “Sure,” Hawk answered confidently.
Naturally, your curiosity got you up on your feet towards Eli's other side – of course you wanted to know what he was getting inked – but Hawk quickly protested.
“Stay over there!” he scolded playfully. “It's a surprise.”
The machine started buzzing and even though it wasn't you who was getting anything done, adrenaline started rushing, making you a giddy mess, forgetting all about your previous fight. As needle pierced skin, you spent the time waiting making assumptions over what Hawk was getting on him – at first you guessed the Cobra Kai snake, later guessing Sensei Lawrence in a heart – a suggestion that made Eli laugh particularly hard, in that way that he used to laugh when it was just the two of you (this earned a scolding from Rico, who couldn't get the work done if his canvas was jittering about).
It must have been twenty minutes at best before Hawk rose from the chair and turned to you, gesturing to the new piece over his heart – a heart with your name in it.
Was it possible to have your heart sink and jump simultaneously? On the one hand, you were realistic, and there would probably come a day where he'd regret this – a thought that made you sick. On the other hand, it was the most romantic thing you've ever experienced, and it was unlikely for anyone else to ever top that.
What was done was done, so you shoved aside any negativity and allowed yourself to revel in the love you felt, showering Hawk with kisses that quickly turned in to a deep, longing kiss – until Rico politely suggested you take the show elsewhere.
Apparently “being nicer to Demetri” meant ignoring him altogether, besides some threatening looks. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than the alternative, so you let go of it despite it seeming like Hawk was constantly on the edge.
You were ready for another date night – the first since the tattoo parlor – ready to get away from school and its drama, just to spend some quality time with your boyfriend.
Now that he wasn't shy anymore, he suggested going to see a film in an actual movie theatre, which was exactly what you were doing.
The two of you split up – you needed to go to the bathroom so Hawk stood in line for tickets. By the time you had come out you had lost sight of your boyfriend – the crowd around the ticket stalls had suddenly increased.
“You looking for someone?” a male voice asked. Turning around, a couple of guys you didn't know were approaching you. “Think you'd have more fun with us.”
Just as they reached you, a hand grabbed your arm. You were relieved to turn and see Eli – but he wasn't even looking at you. His eyes were locked with one of the guys – you could feel the tension in the air.
“Eli, no,” you whispered firmly. His grip on you tightened, moving you aside – but you weren't going to stand for it. You stepped in front of him, grabbing hold of him as he did to you. “You start something, I walk.” your voice was low, not wanting those guys to hear, but serious enough to make Hawk understand you weren't playing around.
With a grunt, he looked down at you, took your hand and walked away.
You optimistically thought the worst was blown over.
You and Hawk were waiting outside the theatre to be let in, chatting away when Hawk stopped you mid sentence with a kiss.
Another pleasant surprise about Eli's newfound confidence was how willing he was to show affection to you publicly, while before you two could pass off as acquaintances at best.
It was rather random but you accepted the kiss – even when he deepened it, getting closer to you, pulling you closer to him.
His hands started sliding lower.
It wasn't anything you haven't done in the privacy of your bedrooms, but to get that intimate in public, in broad daylight – it was too much for your liking.
“Eli -” you called, pushing away from him. He didn't allow it.
Pulling your hips to his with one hand on your bum, his other went up to hold your chin, tilting it back to grant him access. He managed to hold you for a moment before you mustered up the power to push him a few steps away from you.
Hawk was visually surprised – whether because of you or himself, you were unsure.
“What the fuck was that?” you asked, not bothering to keep your voice down this time.
Despite trying so hard to become this new person, new Eli still had old Eli's tells – and a quick glance he threw aside told you everything you needed to know.
Following his line of sight, the two guys from earlier stood there, watching the scene unfold.
“So that's what this is about?” you huffed. “some territory marking thing?”
Hawk struggled to gather his words, his bottom lip bobbing wordlessly a couple of times before he spoke. “Look, you didn't want me to take care of it out there, so-”
“So you do whatever you want with me? Like I'm nothing?”
“Y/n, you know it's not like that-”
“So what is it like?”
When Hawk didn't immediately respond, you turned on your heel to the exit. Hawk followed you outside.
“Come on, Y/n, you know I'd never hurt you!”
“You just did!” you yelled back. “you... I don't know you anymore, and I say that in the worst way.”
“What,” Hawk huffed, “you want me to go back to being a pansy? 'Cause that's not going to happen.”
“You know what's the worst out of all this?” you asked, coming to face Hawk. “at first I thought it was cool, you being all tough. Seeing Kyler become afraid of you. I thought it was great. But now... Now I'm afraid of you.”
Hawk frowned, the realization dawning upon him. “C'mon...” he lifted his shirt to show the heart tattoo dedicated to you. “Doesn't this mean anything to you?”
“Make it mean something.” you replied with a heavy heart, taking a step back and left, leaving Hawk standing alone in the parking lot.
#cobra kai#cobra kai imagine#demetri cobra kai#hawk cobra kai#eli hawk moskowitz#eli moskowitz#cobra kai hawk#hawk imagine#cobra kai x reader#eli moskowitz x reader#eli hawk moskowitz imagine#eli moskowitz/reader#eli moskowitz imagine
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Morning Light (Flash Fiction)
So I uh. Wrote a quick thing. This is inspired by two things: 1) blankets are the coziest thing in the world and Zelink server agrees. 2) @voltfruits wrote an amazing fic (you can find it here, definitely read it!!) and I reread it recently and now I crave a post-calamity Zelink snuggles because of it. Anyways, this is short and sweet, please enjoy :) or read here on ao3!
She had meant for the morning to be a productive one. Earlier in the week, she had sketched out a design for a system to pump hot water for their house- Link’s house really, but she had long since stopped thinking of it as just his. She had been planning to construct a prototype today, getting an early start in case she ran into any setbacks.
She threw those plans out the window within a minute of waking up.
The blankets surrounding her seemed extra cozy that morning, a little bubble of warmth only amplified by the heat from the body beneath her. She must have rolled onto him sometime during the night, and now her world was Link’s arm across her shoulders, another around her waist, legs tangled together, his heartbeat against her ear where it pressed against his chest. Soft sheets and the gentle weight of blankets filled in the gaps between, and she thought she had never experienced a moment so perfect in her life.
She peeked an eye open to see dappled sunlight filtering in through the window. Then she shifted, ever so slowly, to turn her eyes to the man beneath her. He was still asleep- she had guessed that before even opening her eyes, just feeling the rise and fall of his breathing in time with her own. He looks so peaceful, she thought with a smile.
Not that their daily life wasn’t peaceful, but there was always tension in him. She could see it in the way his shoulders tensed whenever a noise was just a bit too loud, the way he jolted a little whenever someone moved just a bit too fast. He had been fighting for so long- longer than he could even remember- that it was hard to set it aside, even in their life of relative peace.
She shifted so that her left hand rested over his heart, chin propped up on top of it, then traced her free hand softly across his forehead where there always seemed to be a furrow in his brow. In the gentle morning light, she could see a smattering of light freckles, only visible after their long days spent out in the wild. She carded a hand through his hair, appreciating the softness of the lovely red-gold strands.
He stirred, cracking his eyes open to look up at her.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said with a smile. “Did I wake you up?”
“S’ok,” he mumbled, blinking sleepy blue eyes. “It feels good.” She ran her hand through his hair again, and he sighed, arms squeezing just a bit tighter. Her heart squeezed right along with them.
She remembered the days before the Calamity, mornings on the road just like this, bundled up in blankets and hidden in tents far away from the eyes of the king. She remembered how the first words he ever said to her were spoken in that same bleary voice, the hero of legend reduced to nothing more than a groggy teenager. She remembered waking up in her own bed, alone in her bedroom and thinking of what it was like to hold him to fight off the loneliness that threatened to drown her.
And she remembered a day in the rain when she begged him, would have given anything for him to open his eyes and look at her like this again. And remembered that day 100 years later, when he opened his eyes for the first time in so long with no idea who she was. Who she was to him.
She leaned forward to press her forehead against his, eyes welling up. It had taken so long, and it had taken so much, but they had made it. “We’re finally home,” she whispered.
Link stroked his hand gently across her shoulder blades, smiling as he whispered back, “I’m so glad you’re here.” She met his eyes, and she could see tears welling there to match the ones in her own. “I thought- We almost didn’t-” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment while he found the right words (and there was that furrow in his brow, back again now that sleep wasn’t there to ward it off). “I didn’t think we would get this.”
“This?” she asked, caressing his cheek with her thumb.
“Any of this.” He shook his head. “Being here, not… not fighting constantly… this,” he said, tightening his embrace for a moment before relaxing again. “I’m just really happy that you’re here.”
She closed her eyes, absorbing the words like the warm sunshine on her skin. “I’m happy too,” she said, though happy didn’t feel like it could quite capture the feeling. It dwelled deep in her bones and rooted itself in her heart, quiet and glorious and overflowing. There wasn’t really a word good enough for it; or at least, not one she could think of before morning tea.
Zelda pressed a slow, gentle kiss against his lips, trying to convey the feelings that were too large for words. Link seemed to be doing the same, kissing her back slowly and intently. There was no rush, no heated need for more, not like there so often was between them. It was soft but powerful, demanding nothing but undoubtedly saying good morning, I love you, I’m glad you’re here.
They pulled back with sleepy smiles, gazing at each other for a moment in contented silence. Then, Link blinked, eyes darting to the window. “We should probably get moving,” he said, sounding very much like he did not want to get moving. “You had plans for today.”
Zelda hummed and laid her head back down on his chest, snuggling into the blankets and relishing the feeling of his arms around her. “Those can wait,” she said. The plans had been forfeited before he even woke up. “Let’s just… stay here a bit longer.”
She felt the rise and fall of his chest as he sighed contentedly. “As long as you want.”
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Researching...
ZETA
You need to see this first then this
The alchemist had been trying all remedies to shake off the stress and fatigue in his system and they all seemed to fail, no amount of sketching or discoveries can pull him away from it. So when you offered a solution he hasn’t heard, he’d jump at it immediately. “You know, some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever.” “Intercourse? If it’s true, then please, I wish to have intercourse with you.” “Wha- wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!” “Convenient, I love you, anything else?”
Pairing -> Albedo x Female Reader
Word Count -> 2944
Themes -> Smut, PwP, PwF, Woohoo, the "thing", the "do"
Series -> #Bonafide Specials (100 followers event)
Warnings -> NSFW CONTENT, DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE UNDERAGED! (this is awkward because you two have no experience, jsyk)
(Z,E)-9,12-tetradecadienyl acetate (TDA, also known as ZETA) are usually emitted by females to attract males for mating. Sex pheromones are defined as odors, produced by either males or females that stimulate one or more behavioral reactions in the opposite sex, bringing the males and females together for the purpose of mating.
The foldered papers at the mahogany desk met with a soft plop at its weight, and you noticed the Alchemist suddenly straighten his back from his spaced out daze on the noise, whipping his head towards where you stand. Albedo's teal eyes were wide from the sudden intrusion, but his eyelids drooped over them once again upon the realization that it was just you who entered as it loses its light once more. This worried you.
The Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius has been in a dilemma recently. And all of Mond knows of this.
Albedo naturally holds himself in a regal and composed aura that draws people to him in admiration and trance. But this Albedo lacks such gait, with shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed, steps heavy and head hanging low.
He has hit a wall in his never-ending research. And the effect was obvious on him.
Days he'd be cooped up in his laboratory staring at nothing, glaring at his setup. Days he'd be gone beyond the walls with his easel and sketchbook, only to return with unfinished artworks meant to be forgotten. Sucrose had tried placing experiments that are easy to handle and give him at least a sense of self-confidence for solving, but even that cannot pull his mind away from his obstacle.
"You know," leaning on the table with arms crossed, you watched the Kreideprinz drag his foot to where you were, aiming to check on the folder that you just submitted, "Some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever." Such words smoothly flowed out of your mouth despite the masked embarrassment you expertly hid through a haughty smirk.
That someone was Kaeya, and that Kaeya threw out that same comment next to you when you two saw Albedo walk through the headquarter's halls like a zombie a few days ago.
The sudden pound of fists on the table at either side of you startled you, expertly caging you in as you looked up. Albedo loomed over you with eyes brightly catching the sun, giving it the luminosity that carried the same curious look he had when faced with the unknown. "Intercourse? If it's true, then please," oh no, "I wish to have intercourse with you."
Excuse me? "Wha-" suddenly, you were hyper-aware of just how close you are to one another. You slightly hiked yourself up against the table, as to preserve what little distance you have. "Wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!”
And without skipping a beat, he mused, "Convenient, I love you, anything else?" That familiar smirk displayed on his face.
Contrary to his face tho, you greatly contest to Diluc's hair. Really a normal reaction- to this guy suddenly confessing! Your head is already whirling around in confusion and your eyes couldn't set itself straight at him, still mindful of the distance of which reminded you why you were in this predicament in the first place.
Albedo attentively watched your eyes stray to the side as he stands there in silence, seeing it land at the entrance to his laboratory. Ah of course, he thought he'd made a discovery, as he leans away from you to make his way towards the door.
And shut it with a click.
"Wait, wait, why did you lock the door?!" You finally mustered up the courage to speak (breaking away from the shock of his confession) as he finds himself where he stood over you, eyes filled with confusion.
"You were quiet after my confession. I know such moments of romance are intimate and with your eyes, I only wanted to give us privacy," his brows furrowed with confusion before his shoulders dropped, a sharp sigh escaping. "Normally people would express their reciprocation by now," he breathed as he starts pulling back and away, "but voicing your rejection would have been appre-"
Quickly with a yelp, you reached out for his departing form, pulling him back by the grip on his shirt. Albedo's eyes only widened a little as he was quick to grip the table's edge to stabilize himself, one arm wrapped around your waist to ground you. "No! I do- do love you too!" You finally squeezed out the embarrassing confession, "You were just so sudden, it surprised me so much!"
And suddenly he was laughing openly, full of relief and humor, as his shoulders slackened at the validation. The heavy weight on his shoulders eased as if a physical matter left it, the bout of removed tension making him slump on you.
You cradled the tired Albedo in your arms as you let him place his chin on your shoulder. This man is your lover now, you thought as the fact finally dawned on you. The brilliant and most loved in Mond now tied down to you.
Basking in the presence of a person now his, Albedo found himself breathing in. There was a scent to you that always soothes him which now feels emphasized at the closeness. His pupils dilated as his face buries itself closer to the junction where your neck and shoulder meets.
Ah, what was this? Was this the pheromones you once talked about in your research on zoology that attracts those to them? He mused in his mind as those teal eyed fluttered shut, nose brushing at your neck for another whiff.
While Albedo indulged himself with the natural scent of you, you stood there with weak legs, trembling and red from the notions. Oh gods, you whimpered at the feeling of his lips brushing at your skin, you're whipped for this man.
"I'm waiting," you had to hold the shiver when his words vibrated against your neck, "for your answer on my offer, I think it would be good to try." Ah the 'intercourse'. You placed your hands flat on his back as he leans away to stare in attention, and then you finally explained to him what you meant, what you'd do, and what it entails to.
Albedo nods in understanding at your every clause and explanation. And his bright mind understood far too easily how it would help. "We are lovers now," his eyes twinkled at the cute scrunch of your nose upon the embarrassment of the fact, "sooner or later we'd end up doing it anyways. When shouldn't be a matter."
Albedo always make a good point.
With your consent, Albedo slowly lays you on the surface of the table as his other hand makes quick work to swipe away the items that would be in the way, thankfully the carpeted floor prevented anything from breaking. His lips found yours almost naturally as you urged him to take off his coat and you worked on your own, the thoughts spiraling in your head for every clothing that is shed:
Albedo has little to none idea on how sex works between humans, and you had your base knowledge from the things you learned from academics; in short, you're both inexperienced and you are his anchor.
How funny how the master role quickly switched, you thought with an inward laugh before it died in your throat at the sight— he stands there with his undershirt unbuttoned, belt and shorts caught by his knee, and his apparent bulge outlined by his boxers. Your thighs instinctively closed, you don't know what's considered average in size for such things, but you know for a fact there's gonna be some difficulty.
"Is something wrong?" His raw and calloused hands (gloves long gone) softly landed at your squirming thighs, the contact sending a shiver all over. "Am I doing something wrong?"
No, you breathed as you urged him to step closer and settle between your legs at the edge of the table, his form forcing you to spread your limbs apart.
The intoxicating scent that Albedo indulged in earlier was stronger now, drowning him and clouding his thoughts. The waft plunged through his senses so forcefully that he stumbled a bit on you, hips hitting as he grips your sides to keep him steady.
Next came the warmth that touched his sensitive length as it laid between you, the contact had forced out a cute squeak from you and an airy groan from him. His hips buckled to catch the sensation as he finds himself rutting between your folds with ragged breathing.
So good, it felt so good. Albedo finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open from what he now identified to be pleasure, and as he looks up to check on you, you were struggling just the same. Your chest rises and falls in quick successions as you covered your eyes with an arm, whimpers coming out of your slightly parted lips.
Fuck. If only he wasn't so engrossed, he wanted to capture this image through painting. "Am I-," he cleared his throat of the hoarse voice, "Am I hurting you?"
You gasped at the cold and wet feeling swipe from your chin to the corner of your lips, licking the trail of drool you didn't even notice when you opened your eyes to see Albedo's up close. With a shake of your head, you gripped the ponytail of his braid to pull his head for a sudden kiss.
Staggering over your form as your legs hiked up to hook around his waist, you guided the tip of his length to your entrance as he ravaged your mouth without restraint. Lips bruising each other, tongue tracing the underside of yours gingerly before it licks at the roof of your mouth— all the sensations had fogged up your consciousness so badly that you didn't feel an ounce of pain when he finally entered into you, guided by a shy gentleness to his ministrations.
It is only when his tip finally touched the opening of your cervix did you whimper; the way you're being stretched and the fullness of his length in you making you writhe under and around him, the friction only making rousing him more.
Albedo produced a low growl against your lips as he bit down on the bottom one, his trimmed nails digging to your soft-skinned hips as he pins it down. "Stop- nghh- stop moving around so much," a sudden warmth pooled into your stomach as you tightened around him.
Mistake number one: You didn't expect for his gentleness to be gone.
Spurred on by your tightening grip and the pleasure shooting up him everytime his tip came in contact with your edge, Albedo went into a relentless pace, pounding straight into you to hit that spot. Your pants turned into breathless chokes everytime he comes in contact, forcing your raw moans out of you. There's a dull pain by your entrance everytime he grinds against your walls, and he whimpers your name in pure ecstacy every stroke.
Your back arcs as he smacks into you, pulling back halfway through before burying deep into your hole once again. His brutal pace gets sloppy at times, before his strength comes back again to pull you closer. Halfway through Albedo produces a feral growl as he grips one of your legs behind the knee, pushing it closer to your body and slightly angled to the side.
And the moment he thrusts in with the new position, you cried out his name. The tip of his length reached far deeper with this new angle, and had plunged the top right into your cervix— your hips trembled as Albedo's whole body shivers at the new sensation, fingernails digging into your thigh as his other hand intertwines with yours, pinning it down on the table as leverage.
"Ahn," he whispered your name tiredly with tears pricking at the edge of his eyes, for the first time staring at your eyes after he had started, "How are you? Is it okay? Is it..."
Good, you mumbled with a tired smile at his consideration, bumping your hips to emphasize on it- which drew a sharp gasp from the both of you, he was already in so deep, your hips bruised and touching.
He rolled his hips to test out, his thickness rubbing at the walls as he stirs your insides. The sweet moan you produced spurred him on, and he was once again staggering into you, his hips slightly elevated in an angle meant to pierce through you.
The sound of flesh smacking against each other overpowers even your loudest moan as Albedo pleasured himself inside you desperately, the smell of sex filling your sense of smell. He chases the way your hole drips and wafts with the scent, drawing in a huge breathe whenever your mixed cum spills past his tightly locked dick in you.
And soon his pace became more desperate and short, as he makes quick work at hitting you in your most sensitive part to barely give you time to gasp for air. Your walls clenched down on him so tightly as you came, a cry of his name passing your lips as your back arched—
the pressure made him buckle and he thrusts in deep one last time, tip breaking past your cervix, as his climax enters you in thick strings of warmth.
That was mistake number two: you didn't bring protection with you.
But at that moment you couldn't care less (your cycle just ended anyways, you should be fine), watching him whimper your name in full pleasure as his teeth grinds against each other, his forehead and eyebrows knit and furrow as he releases before it relaxes after he is done.
And then he falls face first to your chest, the renowned Alchemist running out of the minimal stamina he had with him. Buried between the valley of your breast, Albedo had the most serene (almost drunk) expression on his face, lips pressed against the skin over your heart where it beats with fervor from your activity.
He tested another experimental thrust, lighter this time, as he felt your mixed fluids moved around the tiny space. You gave a wailing moan at his action, and he breathlessly laughed at your reaction.
Albedo stayed in you and on you for a few more minutes after that. Still trying to regain strength as your tired pants became the white noise that night.
"Albedo..." he hums against your chest as his arms tightened around your waist, enjoying the peace your hands brought to him as you stroke his cheek. "Albedo, I need to clean up." He jests that you should just keep it in you and you responded with rapid pats, whining at the notion. He chuckles.
It took him a lot of willpower to get up and he made it obvious as hell, taking his time to remove himself off your chest, grumbling that his bed was complaining too much. You let out a cute snort before smacking his arm. Albedo grips your hips as he gently pulls out when he stops suddenly, realizing that the liquids would pour out and make an obvious mess if he were to do so.
His head passes around the immediate area as he pinpoints a peculiar object, plucking it from its plastic package, still new from the bubble wrap. A sharp gasp suddenly comes by you at the cold and hard sensation that replaced Albedo inside you, only a few inches deep as the Alchemist walks off to get tissues. Wary, you looked down to see the object, choking out when you saw its end sticking out past your crotch:
A test tube, pristine and clean, was preventing the fluids from dripping out of your hole.
When Albedo came back with the tissues and spare cloth in hand, he muses at how your deep red face was smacked tightly against your palms. He offers to clean up, a gentle hand carefully pulling out the tube, but you refused and got quick work on yourself. That was enough embarrassment for tonight.
Unbeknownst to you with your busied self, Albedo held the glass vial in close inspection and curiosity. The translucent white liquid barely blocks the night light and produced the same strong scent he'd been chasing the whole night— he sticks his tongue out to taste, ah, slightly salty and sticky.
Albedo wonders what kind of experiment he can do with this.
The obvious lift on the shoulders of the Chief Alchemist was greatly acknowledged by everyone in town who were aware of the impasse the young man had troubled himself with for the past few days. The bags under his eyes were gone, and the tealness he has shined with newfound vigor. Besides the mood shift, many of the knights had also noticed the time spent between the two of you. Missions and expeditions were always coinciding with each other and people barely saw you separated, giggling and smiling to yourselves in your pink world.
One day they finally found out about your relationship when a knight barged in to his laboratory for an urgent matter. Blurting out the Chief Alchemist's name before he realized that you were there, lips locked against each other.
The news spreads fast with that little detail and everyone congratulated you on your relationship.
Behind your bashful smiles, you and Albedo sighed in great relief, thankful to the archons that the knight didn't took notice of your hand under his big white coat that time.
This turned out like this cuz alchemy boy very new to things u_u and little stamina, he needs to exercise more ehe-
@creation-magician @dandelion-dreams @zelos-simp @struggljng @youroffical-weirdo @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47
#genshin impact#genshin impact oneshots#genshin impact x reader#exile.flower#genshin impact albedo#albedo x reader#Albedo#not for children#bonafide specials#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa#author.exe stopped working#author scared#*glares* part two will wait a lil longer#female reader
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fucking three houses | ignatz victor
in the wise words of cupcakke, slurp that dick til it cum (smack my ass like a drum)
You skidded backwards as Byleth landed the finishing blow to your side. Stumbling, you let out a defeated huff and dropped your training sword, stretching your arms.
"Jeez teach, even after five years comatose, you still best me in sword-fighting. And that's meant to be my thing!" You guffawed, heavily breathing in between words. You outstretched a gloved hand to your teacher, meeting his blank stare.
"It's mine too." He said, shaking your own hand. You deadpanned before bursting into laughter again.
"You'd be right on that one, teach!" You shook your head, continuing to grin at him, retracting your hand and letting it rest on your hip.
"Your reflexes have sharpened, and your footwork is impressive. You've trained well." He complimented, at which you felt your cheeks darken.
"Ah, thanks! Any constructive criticism?" You hummed, placing the sword back into the pile.
"Yes, you need to put more strength into your strikes." He explained, replacing his own.
You nodded gratefully, looking up to the sky. The sun started to set, a few spotty clouds resting above the two of you.
"I'm turning in for the day, (Y/N). I will be in my personal quarters if you need me." He bid you goodbye before strutting off like usual. As simple as the guy was, he had this odd charm.
"Guess I'll turn in too then... nothing wrong with a stroll around the monastery!" You cheered to yourself. You wiped your sweating face with the sleeve of your top before sauntering off.
~~~~
As you walked alongside the grassy plains of the monastery outskirts, you spotted a small green figure crouching in the distance. You could barely spot them among all the spurts of long grass decorating the land. You walked slowly as to avoid startling them, squinting to see what the hell it was they were doing. On further examination, you recognised that choppy, blonde head of hair.
Continuing to saunter to his destination, you soon picked out exactly what it was he was doing. Painting! You two had talked about your secret hobbies, your own being reading. You smiled at the thought, remembering how shocked each of you was to each other's hobby. You thought you had a pretty strong bond with Ignatz when you returned, so now seems a good time to have a chat!
You approached behind him quietly, taking time to, for once, keep your voice at a low volume.
"Uh, hi Ignatz!" You whisper yelled, flinching as the dirty blonde jumped in surprise. He turned around, breathing a sigh of relief after registering who it was.
"Oh! It's just you, (Y/N). You shocked me, haha!" He nervously greeted you, fidgeting with his paintbrush.
You grinned, waving at him. "Sorry man, I tried not to scare ya!" You chuckled bashfully, before sitting down next to him.
"So, whatcha painting and how are ya doing, Ignatz?" You asked, looking over to him curiously.
His gaze landed on your own, his earthy eyes seeming to be stuck to your own, a tension almost bubbling.
He shook his head, smiling softly at you.
"Ah, simply the view. It really is quite mesmerising in the evening, wouldn't you agree?" Enthusiasm built in his tone as he explained, his soft smile turning into a gleeful grin, matching your own.
You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. "I agree! I never really took time to take in the sights of the monastery, but now that I've matured... yeah, it really is a beautiful place, huh?" You hummed, looking off to the villages surrounding the base of the mountainous terrain.
He simply hummed to your question. "You're right (Y/N), you've really matured." He complimented, at least, that's what you hoped.
You gave a short laugh, scratching your neck. "Yeah, thanks! I used to be a rowdy one, but I think the past few years have smoothed some of the edges. Not all of 'em though!" You cheered, tilting your head appreciatively. You looked to him, catching his lingering gaze. His face heated up slightly, nodding to you.
"If you don't mind, I uh, have a request..." He mumbled, refusing to meet your eye. He pushed his glasses back, taking a quick peek at your face. If you blinked you would've missed it, he seemed so shy right now!
"Sure thing! If it isn't gold or assassination plans, I'm open!" You beamed, leaning in to hear what he had to ask.
He chuckled anxiously at your response. Even after knowing you for such a long time, having a girl so close to him was nerve-wracking.
"Nothing of the sort, don't worry. I was wondering, well, may I paint your likeness?" He muttered quietly, his heart stammering. His stomach drops after a few seconds of silence before daring to peek at the mystery of what your expression could be.
However, he was pleasantly surprised at what he saw. Your face was dark, lips pursed tight in a taught smile. You stuttered as you replied.
"Y-you wanna paint me! For real?! This is such an honour, seriously, thank you Ignatz!"
Ignatz gasped, anticipating anything but your reaction.
"Oh really, it's no worries!" He waved his hand dismissively, his own face reddening like a tomato.
The two of you continued to throw gratefulness at each other for what seemed like forever until you found yourselves at his dorm.
~~~~
"Well Ignatz, what kind of painting would you like to make?" You asked, sitting on a plush, velvet stool in his room. You looked around the place, noting the birthday flowers from Byleth, the spare easels and art supplies.
"Well, whatever you'd like truly, as long as I may paint you." He answered, humbly smiling and looking down at you.
You smirked, raising a brow. "How about a nude painting then?" You asked teasingly, crossing your legs.
He smiled at the idea. "Oh, what a good idea! I haven't had many references for the female anatomy and I've always been interested in..." The colour seemed to drain from his face as he realised just exactly what you suggested.
You stifled a chuckle, watching him stutter and rush to speak.
"O-oh! I didn't realise, no, I mean of course I would love to! Ah, that's too forward, no um... I don't want to pressure you, argh!" The colour which had left soon returned in the form of a crimson storm.
You laughed, shaking your head.
"Ignatz, really, it's no worries. I would genuinely not mind, I'm happy to as long as you are." You attempted to calm him down, smiling.
He took a deep breath, nodding.
"Then, yes. We're both adults now, there's no need to freak out." He seemed to try to convince himself rather than you.
"Exactly!" You smiled, standing up. "Alright, I'll undress now." You hummed, thinking.
You had already teased him by suggesting a nude painting, and stripping in front of the blushing boy... you could make this fun for yourself. And maybe even both of them. Claude may have just had a point.
You held his gaze as you unclasped your armour, placing it down on his desk, avoiding the parchment and sketches.
Next, you untied your cropped top, letting it fall to the floor leaving only your bodice on your upper half.
Undoing your bra, you broke his gaze for a moment only to look back immediately. His body seemed to stiffen, in more ways than one, once he caught sight of your breasts slightly bouncing as you stopped stretching.
You wiggled out of your puffed pants, sitting back down to pull them all the way off along with your boots and leggings.
"Nearly there!" You huffed, as you stood back up, shedding your underwear.
By then, Ignatz' face had erupted into a furious blush. His eyes lingered all too long on your exposed vagina, causing you to grin teasingly as he met your gaze.
"Now, shall we?" You asked, sitting upon the comforting stool once more.
He seemed to snap out of his daze at those words, tugging on his coat. Pulling out his desk chair, he set it in front of you. Pulling his easel across the room, the slight scratching of wood against wood was the sole sound of the tension-filled room.
Setting a canvas down, he seemed to take a few deep breaths before grabbing a pencil.
"How would you like me to pose?" You asked, smiling. This could be interesting.
"Oh, yes, uh, however you'd like to, really!" He stumbled upon his words, before finally holding your gaze.
"Got it." You responded. How could you tease him further? As you contemplated, you finally came across a decision. You leant one leg over another, giving him a subtle view of your exposed cunt.
You raised your arm, letting your gloved hand sit beneath your chin. Your upper arm pressed against your left breast, giving you slight cleavage, You gave him your signature cheeky grin, before raising a brow.
Speaking through your teeth, you asked him a question. "How's this?"
"J-j-just perfect!" He stuttered, shutting his eyes tight before reopening them and focusing.
"Now, hold that pose for me?" He asked, finally confident and contained. At least, on the outside.
You were content with holding your pose, as long as you could continue to tease him after he finished his sketch was your real goal. Whether or not anything transpired... well, you'd be lying if you said you didn't want anything to.
As you waited, you watched Ignatz' face morph into one of pure concentration, reminding you of how admirable he was. Despite his preference to stay on the quiet side of things, he was a talented man. Both on the battlefield and in the artistic field.
Minutes passed until Ignatz' face settled into a satisfied smile, signifying his completion of the sketch. You grinned wider at this, his face was adorable when he was proud!
"Thank you, (Y/N)." He thanked you. Refusing to look in your direction, he was reminded of the tightness in his pants.
"No, thank you, Ignatz! Actually... it had me wondering... may you do a favour for me?" Your voice dropped into a whisper, so his gaze fell upon your figure. Your eyelids drooped as a sultry smile fell upon your lips.
He gulped at this, yet nodding nonetheless. "Anything."
"Wonderful." You commented pleasantly. Standing up, you sauntered towards him. Aware of his gaze dropping to your softly bouncing tits as you took confident strides towards him.
Once right in front of him, looking down upon his still seated form you grinned.
"Let me... repay the favour you did for me?" You asked, tilting your head, curious.
He swallowed nervously once more, before nodding shyly. He fiddled with his hands, struggling to meet your gaze.
"How... how would you like to do so?" He mumbled, occasionally peeking up at your towering form.
"Well, if I put it bluntly... let me please you." You deadpanned, the loose smirk on your lip tugging back into place on your face, cheeks steadily growing rosier.
His face officially became a competitor for ripest tomato, and he nodded excitedly.
"Please... do." He muttered.
Your lazy smirk grew into a full-on grin. Quickly, you dropped to your knees.
He gasped at the inclination of your actions, his jaw staying dropped as you worked his pants downwards.
You slid his undergarments off, his cock bouncing free of its strained containment.
You licked a stripe up his cock, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake. He shuddered, a slight moan escaping his taught lips.
You gave a kiss to the bulbous, pink head of his dick before letting it slip in between your mouth.
His breath shuttered as you began to work a continuous up-and-down rhythm on his cock.
He gasped in time with each bob of your head, his hand slowly reaching its way to the back of your head. He looked down to check with you for permission, and you winked, giving your best inclination of consent.
And with that, he began to thrust into your mouth and push your head at the same time. God, he was insanely fast and rough, but you controlled your erratic throat muscles. It was pretty damn hot, especially for a guy so shy.
Your hand snaked down to your dripping pussy, the situation you orchestrated obviously having an effect on yourself. Not a negative one though, not at all.
You harshly began to rub your clit, not bothered with dragging it out. You were looking to climax, and by the sounds of Ignatz, he was too.
As you rubbed your sensitive bud, you moaned around his dick. The vibrations caused Ignatz to shudder, closing his eyes tightly.
"I'm gonna cum! Ah, (Y/N) you're making me cum!" He moans, groaning as you felt his cock still, and as the warm, bitter burst of cum in your mouth exploded, so did you. Your pussy clenched around emptiness, yet the throbbing in your clit as you orgasmed satisfied you all the same.
Your head slipped off his softening dick, a pleased smile settling on your face as you swallowed. As bitter as it was, you had nowhere else to hide the evidence.
"Thank you, Y/N)... that was... so good." He whispered, giving you a sweet smile. He leant down and kissed the top of your head and you chuckled.
"But I must ask, is that what you were learning whilst you were gone for so long?"
"Ignatz!?"
#fire emblem x reader smut#fire emblem smut#fire emblem x reader#fire emblem#fire emblem three houses#ignatz victor#ignatz x reader#ignatz victor x reader#ignatz smut#ignatz victor smut#fe ignatz#fe3h ignatz#smut#fe3h#fanfic#fe3h x reader#fe3h fanfic
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Jasonette July Day 15: Night
Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event
Prompt: Night
Rated: T
A/N: A continuation "Game On” and “Pixie”
Marinette had been in Gotham for a little over a year now, having left behind her life in Paris to attend Gotham University. It all started when she got involved with Catwoman, who saved her one night when she was in trouble. Then she got roped into a little game between Catwoman and Batman, and that was how she met Jason and Roy, Red Hood and Arsenal respectively. While with Jason and Roy, they had their ups and downs. Initially she felt that the two were overprotective, but they were able to reconcile after a fateful encounter in the Iceberg Lounge. Ever since that fateful encounter, what started as a harmless little crush began to grow over time. For once, she got to know people who understood both the real her and her superheroine persona. They knew her as a quick thinker in battle, and a civilian with a tendency to catastrophize things.
While she was sitting in the car with Jason and Roy, driving back from Star City. The only sounds that could be heard were the scratching of pencil on paper, and the hum of the engine as they drove. She tried to throw herself into her upcoming design assignments that weren’t due for another few weeks, doing anything to avoid thinking about Jason sleeping peacefully in the front seat of the car. Tikki was nestled in her bag nibbling on a cookie and only Roy seemed to notice how quiet the drive back to Gotham was. She had developed a close friendship with the three of them, one which wasn’t complicated by secret and civilian identities. They had each other’s backs in combat, and they worked well as a team together. Marinette cursed herself, for the first time in a long time, she had relationships that weren’t complicated by secrets and secret identities. Now she was going to ruin everything just because she could not keep her heart and her feelings under control, it was pathetic. It was easier to think that Jason was a stubborn, sarcastic brute who couldn’t possibly understand her. He could still be stubborn and sarcastic at times, but then he had to go and have another side to him. A side of him that cared deeply for those close to him, a group of people that now included Marinette. It wasn’t fair. Marinette shook her head and turned her attention back to her design work, these patterns weren’t going to sketch themselves. It was also one of the few times she got to work with more delicate fabrics.
Jason was pretending to be asleep on the drive from Star City back to Gotham, not unlike the one that happened a few months ago. It seemed like yesterday they first heard about a new superheroine who managed to take on two of his younger brothers. Marinette was certainly a girl with many contradictions, even when they first met her on that rooftop that fateful night. She could be very creative with her magic yo-yo, and in a fight she was usually a level-headed and quick thinker. That much was clear to anyone who saw her in action, which was probably for the best, given that Jason had a very short fuse and a tendency to brute force his way through situations. By the same token, the same person was prone to flying off the handle in much more mundane situations. One time she woke up early for a test that wasn’t for another two days, and flew into a panicked stream of consciousness that made it sound like she was going to be shipped back to her home city in a matchbox if she was late. Jason didn’t dare turn around to look at her in the backseat, but he could just about imagine what she looked like. The scratching of pencil on paper told him that she was probably designing something that had more in common with a ball gown than body armour. Her skills as a seamstress came in handy when their body armour needed upgrades or adjustments, not everyone could be gifted with the power of a magic body suit. Even Hal Jordan was a test pilot long before he became a Green Lantern, Marinette was just a teenager when she got given magic jewelry.
Secret identities and personas aside, at her core Marinette was still the same person. She was kind, forgiving, but most of all she trusted him, something very few people did. At first he wrote it off as all of them having each other’s backs in a fight. While that was true it wasn’t the whole story, he knew because he could say the same thing about Roy. He considered maybe it was because she managed to calm his pit madness, but that was because she had the very creatures who created them by her side. Jason still called her “Pixie '' from time to time, really out of affection more than anything. He only used her name when he was being absolutely dead serious. It was a lot more than that and he knew it, he knew that she was worming her way past all the walls he had put up, seemingly without even trying. He convinced himself that it was dangerous for all involved, that it would just leave him vulnerable in the end. She was getting closer and closer to his heart, at which point he would be completely and utterly vulnerable. He wanted to hold her close to him, but was afraid that she would hold his heart in her tiny delicate hands and squeeze.
Roy was exhausted, not just from the mission, but from being caught right in the middle of two of his friends pining after each other. In the car ride back to Gotham, he could easily tell that Marinette was busying herself with design work while Jason was pretending to be asleep. It would be cute if it wasn’t a sign that these two were actively avoiding talking to each other. Possibly because they were worried they might slip up and reveal their very obvious feelings for the other person. He overheard Marinette confiding in the Kwamis late one night, when she thought both of them were out. Jason by contrast was a little less expressive, but Roy could still tell that he was also pining after her, in his own little way. He had tried to gently coax it out of them, and even though they refused to admit it Roy could tell.
Marinette was an open book whenever he even suggested the idea that she might be slightly attracted to Jason. At the slightest suggestion that there was something between her and Jason, her face would go tomato red and she would deny it. Jason was a much tougher nut to crack, but Roy already knew that from the get-go. If Marinette wore her heart on her sleeve, then Jason kept his heart guarded with steel and lead. He tried to ask him about it on a mission, when Marinette was out of earshot. Instead he took a leaf out of Dick’s book and asked if it was really the time and place for a “man chat”. The three of them could be compared to The Three Musketeers, but Jason and Marinette were more like Beatrice and Benedict from Much Ado About Nothing. He was cursing Jason’s detective training, because it meant he would see right past a forged love note, while making things worse for Marinette. If Roy was still drinking, he would have probably told them that they should just screw and get it over with. He was starting to understand why Lian would smush her doll’s faces together and get them to ‘kiss’. That gave him an idea...
Marinette and Jason were calmly watching TV together one night. It was Valentine's Day, but neither of them really had any plans with anyone. Staying in and waiting for chocolate prices to crater seemed like a much better idea. Tikki was perched on Marinette’s shoulder, while Plagg was about to inhale a very large piece of camembert. The two of them were a comfortable distance apart, neither of them were willing to make the first move. Suddenly, Roy busts in through the front door. Dressed up as Arsenal with a few extra accessories, a tutu and a pair of fairy wings he likely borrowed from Lian. He came in wide grin, wielding his bow with an odd heart shaped arrow.
“Happy Valentine's Day bitches!” he yelled out, taking aim at Marinette and Jason. The grappling arrow wrapping around the two, tightly binding them together on the sofa. Just as Marinette and Jason realise what just happened, Roy runs back out the door, slamming it on his way out.
An awkward silence hung in the air as Jason and Marinette were tied together, their faces mere inches apart. Marinette blushing a storm, while Jason tried to keep his composure and looked away from her. That said, he could feel her deep blue eyes watching him, and he was fairly certain she could hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest. Their arms were clamped firmly to their sides, and both of them thought that Roy had done this as a stupid prank.
“Did Roy tell you he was going to…” Marinette began.
“...put on a tutu and fairy wings and tie us up on the couch?” Jason finished, he swallowed, she already looked embarrassed by the whole situation. “No, did he tell you?” he asked.
Marinette shook her head, “No, but he seems to have got it into his head that you’re interested in me.” she said as she tried to wriggle free, “as if that would ever happen.”
“I mean...” the conversations he wrote off as late night man-chats were starting to make sense to him. “...is that really so hard to believe?” he asked quietly. There was no keeping her at arm’s length at that moment, physically or otherwise. He noticed that she had stopped trying to wriggle free of the cord wrapped tightly around him.
“A little,” she said, “It just seemed too good to be true,” she muttered. “You’re one of the few people who knows about both Marinette and Ladybug, you know that they’re the same person.” she explained, “the idea that you would be interested in me on top of all that just felt like it was too good to be true, like something will do horribly wrong sooner or later. Like there was no way the universe was going to let me be that happy.”
Jason was surprised to hear that, but also he understood what she meant. It was funny how on paper, they were two completely different people, and in some way they were. It was moments like these that reminded them there were still similarities that kept them together. For the first time since Roy had tied them up, he looked at her. “Marinette, take it from someone who’s a literal dead man walking. Trust me, that is not the most impossible thing out there, not even close.” he tried to say, Marinette looked up at him, trying to make sense of the meaning in his words. “If anyone’s going to get slapped around by the universe, and feel as if they don’t deserve to have someone who’s seen different sides of them and still cares about them, it’s probably me,” he explained.
Both of them finally knew what Roy was trying to do, after all he had been painfully obvious. Jason himself tries to get a sharp batarang from his pocket, he assures Marinette, “Don’t worry Pixie, I’ll get us out of here and we can forget this ever happened.”
Marinette remains silent as Jason struggles against the wire tying them together, Tikki floats to her side and whispers into her ear. “Marinette, it's now or never.” Marinette looks back to see all the Plagg cheering her with a grunt. If lifting the piece of camembert with little enthusiasm counts as cheering.
Marinette takes a deep breath, and gathers her courage. “Jason?” she asks, and Jason pauses to look back at her. Her face had a rosy pink glow as she leaned forward to give Jason a kiss. Jason pauses in shock at first before, and slowly melts to return the kiss. As the two kiss, Tikki helps untie the two. Just as Tikki finishes untying, Marinette and Jason hold each other in a tight embrace, eagerly savouring their newfound relationship.
Roy peeked his head through the window watching Marinette and Jason finally confess to each other. “About time you two got together” he cheered from the fire escape, giving the two a thumbs up and a big grin. This breaks Marinette and Jason from their affectionate moment together, embarrassing Marinette and annoying Jason.
Jason stomps over to the fire escape, Roy nervously greets Jason “Hey buddy, how’s it going?”
Jason grabs Roy by the ankle, dangling him off the edge of the fire escape. “Pixie, why don't you give him a taste of his own medicine?” Marinete nods and walks over with the grappling arrow Roy shot at the two.
Roy pleaded, “Come guys, you two had it bad for each other it was obvious.” Marinette begins to tie Roy to the fire escape with the grappling wire. Roy attempts to struggle but Jason holds him down.
As Marinette progresses further in tying Roy up, his pleas become more and more desperate.
“I did you two a favour.” Roy begs, “Come on, is this how you two repay me? Help! Somebody! Batman! BATMAAAN!” Roy wailed.
Marinette and Jason ignore Roy’s begging. Once they were finished they both left, hand in hand, leaving Roy tied upside down to do some self-reflection.
BONUS
Cupid: What's this I hear about you playing Cupid?
Roy: Sorry, it was for two people who were actually in love.
Cupid: Why you little-
Roy: Cupid, it's been YEARS, you're a very attractive woman. It can't be that hard to find someone who loves you back, someone who doesn’t have a goatee.
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Sorcery ~r.s.~
ceo!ryomen sukuna x gn!reader
warnings: sukuna in a suit??, fluff
synopsis: [request by @draconic-dumbass ] “two unlikely people bound together by what some call fate, but to them, it must be sorcery” OR the reader doesn’t take care of themselves and sukuna has to do it for them.
a/n: For fic purposes, Sukuna has his own two armed body. I wanted a CEO!AU where curses don’t exist, okay? Sukuna’s just a man who looks great in a suit. The curse aspect isn’t really needed in the way it’s portrayed in the show so i don’t wanna think about it😣 don’t hate me.
The door opens as you peek your head in the hallway to see Sukuna roughly loosen his tie with a huff and unbutton the top of his shirt as he takes off his shoes.
“Long day?” you ask.
“My assistant cried today if that tells you anything. They overbooked me, and didn’t realize it until this morning.”
Your eyes narrow, “What did you say to the poor thing? She didn’t cry for nothing.”
Sukuna throws his hands up defensively as he walks over to you with a teasing smile, “I didn’t say anything! Though, I wanted to say a lot. I think she got the message when I sent her home.” The last part came out in a mutter, but you heard it well.
You hit him in the chest, “This is why you can’t keep an assistant! You’re too aggressive. I liked that one, too.”
“Well, I had an amazing assistant for years, but they quit when their husband told them to focus on art. My days ran so smoothly, and I had a beautiful sight all hours of the day,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he continues, “Was I too aggressive with you?”
“You could barely say a sentence around me when we first met, Ryo. Don’t get cocky.”
Before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door and you moved to answer it.
“It’s just Nao. They’re being my other model for today! I can’t model and draw myself, so I needed an amazing stand-in. How about you rest for a bit and I’ll do Nao’s solo poses and get you when I need you?” you suggested as you opened the door.
“It’s been a while. Good to see you, Y/N. Sukuna,” Nao says, giving Sukuna a wave and you a small hug.
“Nao, don’t fuck up while I’m not there,” Sukuna jokes, turning around to walk towards the bedroom.
“I’ve been doing this longer than you. I think I got it.”
“Don’t take those clothes off! The more wrinkles, the better!” you call after him.
~
You softly shake Sukuna. “Ryo, I need you to model for me now.”
He groans, opening his eyes to see you beaming at him. “It’s not fair, your face makes it hard to say no.”
“Then get up, so I can finish for today!” you urge.
He follows you to the living area with sleepiness still extremely apparent on his face.
“No wonder you chose him to be your muse for the King of Curses. He’s like The Walking Dead right now,” Nao laughs, earning a glare from Sukuna as you drag him to the spot you want him.
“You still haven’t told me anything about your art show,” Sukuna reminds you.
“Hands in pockets please…” you gesture to your own pockets when you make the statement and Sukuna lazily complies as you continue talking and telling him what to do. “My theme is Sorcery. Take a step but don't step… There! I wanted to do three bigger panels for my main showcase. They have the King of Curses- AKA you- and the ruler of blessings- aka Nao but Nao is just modeling so I can shade the pose right and put myself in it. Then the middle panel will be them together. Look at the ground. Now, only bring your eyes up the look at me… Perfect! Stay still. Basically it shows two unlikely people bound together by what some call fate, but to them, it must be sorcery.”
~
You yawn, waking up the sound of Sukuna roaming around the penthouse. You check your phone to see the time. 4:36 A.M.
You suddenly find yourself wide awake and decide to get up and work on your rough sketches.
You go out of your shared room, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to the light and walk to the kitchen.
“Where the hell is my…” Sukuna’s muttering comes to a stop when he sees you sitting at the island, drinking a glass of water as you wait for the coffee pot to get ready.
“Good morning,” you softly say with a yawn.
“Why are you up? Did I wake you?” Sukuna asks, buttoning the cuffs of the shirt and walking over to you.
“I need to work on the rough sketches anyways since my canvases come in today. I’m so behind,” you groan, “What are you looking for?”
“My passport. I swear I grabbed it from home before I came here.”
He watches you tie his tie for him as he tries to recall where it might be.
“It’s definitely at home on the kitchen counter. I saw it before I left. I meant to grab it for you. Sorry, Ryo.”
He tosses his head back in frustration, “Why is this penthouse so inconveniently located. I have to go in the opposite direction of the office and the airport to go home and get it.”
“You’re the one that said my apartment was too small to be my studio.”
“I know.”
“And that I should separate home from work.”
“I know.” He squeezes your cheeks to stop you from talking. “I don’t regret buying this penthouse for your work. You get an ocean view and you have an entire space to do your work. I’d buy you the entire building if you needed it.”
He lets go of your face and you say, “Okay, Mr. CEO. All you had to say was that you love me.”
He chuckles and pours two cups of coffee, handing you one of them. “This business trip is pretty short, so I should be back around afternoon or tomorrow night at the latest.” He checks his watch, “I should go, so I don’t be late with my detour.”
He grabs his blazer off of the back of the chair, sliding it on as he walks towards the door with you right behind him. He slips his shoes on and turns to you, giving you a soft kiss.
“Be safe. I love you.” you say.
“I love you. Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone.”
As soon as the door closed, you muttered: Sorry, Ryo. That’s exactly what I’m about to do.
~
A few hours later, you get a call from Sukuna and immediately answer.
“How’s the new assistant, Ryo?” you immediately ask.
He paused, glancing at the assistant beside him. “So this was your doing. I can’t say that I’m surprised. This one seems a lot more competent.”
“Don’t run him off. He knows how to run businesses well since he grew up with his father.”
“I got it. Mx. CEO,” he taunts, “How long have you been working?”
You glance at the time on your phone. 10:32A.M.
“Technically five hours but only been diligent for the past four hours. I finished my sketch for the King of Curses panel about an hour ago. So, I’ve just started drawing it on the canvas.”
“So, what I’m hearing is that it’s time to take a break and eat something,” He suggests, but you both know that it was a command.
“I’m not going to pass out on you again, okay? I can take care of myself.”
“As you’ve proven on multiple occasions, you can’t. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you. Make good decisions!” You hang up and get back to work.
You didn’t know how much time had passed or how long you’d been actively moving around and working until your regular Wednesday at 11:30 alarm went off.
Wait… Wednesday??? You’d only been up for a couple hours. How has an entire day passed without you even realizing it?
At the same time, you received a text from Sukuna: I have to stop by the office before heading to you, so I’ll take you wherever you’d like around one.
“Shit!” you exclaim, typing back a quick response before rushing around the penthouse to clean and change your clothes.
Sukuna couldn’t know that you haven’t slept in the past 31 hours.
By the time you cleaned up and got dressed, Sukuna was already at the penthouse, leaning against the kitchen counter and holding a glass of bourbon in his hands.
“Let me see your hands,” he requests.
You stick out your hands, trying to calm them down because both of you knew that you get really bad tremors when you haven’t slept in a while.
“I didn’t think you’d be back so early,” you softly spoke.
“Darling, I texted you. I guess it makes sense that you don’t remember since you responded with a jumble of letters,” he sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets as he shakes his head, “What am I going to do with you?”
“I just got really focused. I’m so close to finishing the King of Curses panel. I started the Ruler of Blessings panel as well… I gotta keep the ball rolling while it’s hot,” you explained.
“That isn’t healthy. How have you been painting? With the way your hands are shaking, you shouldn’t even be able to hold a paintbrush straight.”
“I was focused! And before you say it, I’m not tired, so I’ll just get back to work.”
He looks at you in amusement as you walk away. “Still as stubborn as ever.”
“I’ll stop after I finish the curse panel, okay?”
Before you could even get out of the kitchen, Sukuna had picked you up by your waist and started walking away.
“Ryomen Sukuna! Put me down!” you exclaim, “I told you, my feet stay on the ground!”
He laughs and continues walking, “I told you that if I want to pick you up, I will. If you think you’re heavy, then you’re wrong. You’re like a feather compared to what I lift at the gym, okay?”
You fall silent, letting him carry you all the way to the bathroom. He sits you on the counter and starts running the water for a bath. As you wait for the bath to fill up, he stands in between your legs, bringing his hands up to your face and lightly grazing underneath your eyes.
“They’re puffy…” he looks at you with a hint of sadness, “I understand that the art show is very important to you, but this is the third time in the past few months that I’ve had to physically stop you from overworking yourself. If you don’t take care of yourself, your art will suffer, too.”
“I know. There’s just a lot of big names coming this time. I really want it to be good.”
“It will be because you’re an outstanding artist,” he reassures.
You give him a small thank you as he turns to stop the water and you shed your clothes, getting in and closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth.
“You see how nice hot water feels?” You could hear the teasing in his voice.
“Yeah, yeah. Self-care or whatever.”
Sukuna begins to wash your body for you, humming a soft tune and lulling you to sleep. He finishes washing you up and takes you to bed, putting one of his shirts on you and crawling in beside you, letting you wrap yourself around him to steal his warmth.
He softly smiles to himself and gives you a soft kiss on the top of your head as he whispers, “Sweet dreams.”
#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk fic#jjk masterfind
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Note: This was originally an anon request for 3 characters [Childe, K.aey.a, and Dil.uc, but I was struggling with the other two so... he's just the Childe part.]
[[ Summary: A rough day, and Childe was tired, just wanting some time to eat and relax... Only for him to be quietly mocked, when he was too tired to try fighting over it, but you weren't.
Word Count: 1'226 ]]
It was a long day. If he was fighting the entire day, he'd consider it all too short, no matter how far his body was pushed, but diplomatic meetings, being scolded for existing, and getting chewed out for not being the best in an office setting... He was tired.
Either he wanted a big meal and a long night's rest, or maybe a fight or a f-
...
Nah, he wasn't in the mood for the last one, no matter the circumstances.
So, he told this to you, and instead of fussing with cooking [Childe would end up taking it upon himself to cook for you, instead of the other way around], you both agreed to not fight over it and to get a meal out, so there was no stuffiness in the air... A simple, 'no expectation' date just to say you did. It's be better for both of you, especially for the stubborn man you chose to spend your life with.
He dressed plainly, far from his usual harbinger attire. He didn't want to be Childe or Tartaglia, he wanted to be Ajax right now. Ajax was a hungry young man who likes to wrestle and fuss and do stupid things, and loved with his whole heart.
You even ordered for him, something that, for some reason, wasn't very easy. Decisions weren't easy, even if there was a single clear answer, and he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as thanks... When you both sat down, a little away from everyone, he sighed and sat back, taking a bite of his food and thinking... for actually quite a few minutes, and you simply watched as you ate yourself. Sometimes he got quiet and, usually, those were fine. Everyone had 'moods', even if his were a little more prone to shifting on the wind. His eyes even, slowly, began to drift...
A waiter came, and looked at him oddly, you loudly clearing his throat, "Do you have any mocktails here?" You asked, a smile on your face, asking literally anything to get his attention away, darting to look at Ajax, who had a thinly veiled expression of horror on his face...
"Ahem." The waiter cleared his throat, "We do, in fact, here's our list..."
And you got a drink-- both of you, just to get him out of your hair, Ajax staring to the side... You reached out, grabbing his hand.
"We could pay and leave early, and take the rest home..." You offered, and he smiled weakly,
"It's alright... I don't want to ruin this."
You knew that voice, if you kept pressing, it'd lead to an argument, a battle of the wills. Instead, you let him win this one, and then a conversation began, him complaining a little about his day, and then beginning to explain that he'd been working on a sketch for a new weapon to make from his elemental powers, even pulling the half-crumpled half-folded paper out of his pocket, offering it to you...
It looked similar, but it had a larger hook on the bottom of the handle, and the grip seemed to be changed with a hand guard.
When you looked back at him, his face was flushed, and he was smiling excitedly, even flapping his hands, "So? So? What do you think?"
You could only just smile, he looked exhausted, yes, but he also looked so excited and happy.
...But a voice, a voice just a little distant,
"What's wrong with him?" "Is he... special?" "No wonder he didn't order."
You jerked your head around, and saw a few of the staff members sitting together. A slow night, they were bound to gossip, and when you looked back at Ajax...
He was no longer so excited and happy, sitting properly, hands set down, even if his fingers twitched uncomfortably.
You didn't know why, but before you knew it, you were on your feet, already storming your way to them, already throwing a fit on how disgusting their behavior was, talking shit on him when he was in earshot, and could even see them!
You never figured that Ajax would be the one to pull you from a fight, and in one last, desperate moment to prove your anger, you threw your pouch of Mora right at that first waiter's face, and Ajax all but dragged you out.
He was quiet when you both got home, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Go lie down, I'll make dinner." Neither of you really ate much before that... scene. You also had to make it up to him, you did ruin your impromptu date... So you got to work, getting some... interesting beast he had fished up lately, and used that as the base for the meal.
When you heard a gentle creak, you silently pleaded that it was Ajax, walking up to hug you from behind... maybe you did lose it a little there, but... When you turned around, he wasn't there, and you saw the window was slightly open, and the wind made an odd noise as it squeezed its way through, you taking the liberty to shut and lock it properly, closing the curtains even if the sun had already set, and most people stayed far from the cold by staying warm and cozy in their homes...
...
And Ajax still didn't come out. You got seriously worried, and turned off the stove-- you could finish it in a minute-- and went to go find him.
He was sitting in front of the fireplace, on the floor, legs folded, blanket wrapped around him, as he stared at the fire. Tired, so tired he couldn't focus on anything, and he was nearly sleeping with his eyes open. You moved next to him, sitting on your knees, and setting a hand on his shoulder.
No response.
"I'm sorry," you said softly, "I shouldn't have done that."
"No," he said, quickly, "I just... they're... Right. I got sloppy, I shouldn't act like that."
You just looked at him-- he was serious. So rare, so rare he was serious outside of battle.
"No, nono, Ajax..." You moved your arm off his shoulder to wrap it around him, and with your other hand, you gently grabbed his jaw and turned his head to look at you. His eyes weren't focused, but they didn't need to be.
"You were happy. I loved seeing you like that, seeing you so happy... It was wonderful, seeing that you were just excited and happy and... wholesome," that didn't exactly make sense, but... you knew what you meant, with his innocent bliss that made the world feel free of sin, if only for a little bit.
"But... It's not... normal."
"You're a Fatui harbinger with the hair of a Mondstadtian, and you've been to the Abyss," you shook your head, "And that's all perfect. Normal isn't good, not all the time."
Finally, finally! He rested his head on your shoulder, and sighed, you gently petting his head.
"I'm tired, I don't want to talk anymore. I want to eat."
... Right, you were cooking dinner.
"Alright..." You pressed a kiss to his forehead, "I'm almost done, should I bring it to you?"
He lifted his head, and smiled weakly, then nodded.
You had eaten your fill from earlier, at least enough that you didn't care, and as he ate, you ended up gathering him up in your arms, holding him tight... And nearly falling asleep in your arms, before he declared [quite suddenly] that 'a bed is better!' and promptly walked over.
Even if he did fall asleep there, you'd be happy to let him rest there, motionless as you held him, for the entire night.
#genshin impact#childe#genshin childe#genshin x reader#childe x reader#diluc x reader#bark writes#hurt and comfort#pining#fluffy bark#lazy eye childe#autistic childe
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heyhey !! can i request some hcs of jun, tetsuya, n chris having a very soft but artistic s/o who draws them a lot? and maybe one day they find her sketchbook open n it’s just sketches of them? no pressure if you’re not inspired by this or anything tho n ty !! <33
Sketchy Secrets
⤷Includes: Chris, Jun, Tetsuya
A/n: I'd be more than happy to write this! The 3rd years make me unfathomably soft so I'm going to have a bunch of fun with this! Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it ♥️
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Chris
Chris wouldn't consider himself a very nosy person
He's always respectful of your space and never pries when he can tell you want to keep something private
But nothing has ever tempted him to break that boundary more than the worn notebook you keep on you
It's in your hands constantly and you're so secretive about the item your behavior was bound to garner some curiosity on his end eventually
Nevertheless, Chris fought his inquiring mind out of respect for you and let the contents of the notebook remain a mystery
Chris could definitely appreciate art but he wasn't much of an artist himself, so it was quite the surprise when he opened the notebook he used the keep baseball notes in and be met with a bunch of sketches
Immediately he understood that this must be the oh-so mysterious notebook you've had on you for months. By some miraculous force the two of you seemed to have accidentally swapped notebooks
The damage was done and he already knew what resided in the book so how much worse could it be to give into the hungry curiosity he's been harboring the past few months?
Chris handled the pages with care as he flipped through the book. Most of the pages were filled with what he assumed to be anatomy studies and the occasional silly doodle here and there
When Chris reached the middle of the notebook he noticed a trend in your art begin: All of your sketches were of him
His cheeks were most definitely tinted a soft pink the further he flipped. He was dumbfounded that you found him to be a source of inspiration, he wasn't always a ball of sunshine and rainbows as you've seen him on his worst days
But he found it interesting to look at the conjured up version of how you saw him. It was like he was looking at himself through your eyes
It was then that you barged open his dorm door, hair messy from running and his baseball notebook clung to your chest. He saw the fear flare in your eyes when you spotted the open book in front of him
"D-did you..."
"I looked through it. I'm sorry, you wanted to keep this private and I spoiled that for you."
"So did you see the...uh sketches?"
"I did and I think they're remarkably beautiful, I had no idea you were so talented, love"
A wave of relief crashed into you at his words. You honestly thought he'd think it was creepy you had pages and pages filled with sketches of him
Chris chuckled at your reaction before he stood up and pulled you into a warm embrace where he placed a kiss to the top of your head
Jun
Jun is...a very brash person
He's loud and rambunctious by nature but the man instantly developes a softer side when around you
Seeing the normally boisterous outfielder morph into a far gentler version of himself was quite the sight, and the occurrence had definitely become a topic his friends would make jabs at
Jun never let their teasing remarks bother him much, he enjoyed spending quiet time with you and was more than happy to sit through his friends bad jokes if it meant he could continue hanging around you
Recently though Jun had noticed an odd habit of yours
You stare at him alot. Not in a 'checking your boyfriend out' kind of way but as in blatant staring even if you knew he caught you looking
It was a bit odd in his opinion seeing as you never addressed or hinted at why you actually do stare at him so much
Jun didn't question it, maybe he was just catching while you were spacing out and didn't realize what you were doing
What he didn't know was that he would unintentional find out what was driving this habit of yours only a few weeks after becoming aware of it
He spotted you alone at a table in the schools library one afternoon while searching for some research material he needed for a project
You were sitting with your back to him, leaning heavily on on of your arms. From where he was standing it looked like you had either fell asleep or were zoning out like you often did around him
Jun decided to go "wake" you up, as leaving you there in that state would be defeating your purpose of coming to the library in the first place
Before he could tap your shoulder after approaching your table, his eyes flicked to the book sitting wide open infront of you
More specifically he was watching your hand roughly sketching the outline of a person's hair style
The longer he looked the more he realized that the entirety of the two pages in front of you were drawings of him
Anything from small, quick doodles of him catching a ball or swinging a bat to more detailed sketches of him laughing or reading a book
You must have finally sensed someone looking over your shoulder as you jumped slightly in your seat and quickly turned to find Jun (whose face was beyond flushed might I add)
"This is why you stare at me all the time?!"
"Ah...maybe?"
Despite how embarrassed you both were he still pulled a seat up next to you, gruffly mumbling out how you shouldn't let his presence keep you from your art
He then quietly complimented your artistic skills, sealed with a soft kiss to the back or your hand
Tetsuya
If there is one thing that Yuki Tetsuya loves about your relationship it's the fact that you always pack little bentos for the two of you to share after games
Obviously he loves YOU for many other reasons! But if he were asked what quirk or abnormality he loves the most in your relationship it'd be the bentos
Which he was currently rummaging through your bag for
You usually have a specific spot in your bag for the small containers, a place that would keep the food cool so it wouldn't get spoiled in the Tokyo heat, but Tetsu couldn't seem to find them
Eventually he spotted the familiar teal and green box after shuffling the contents of your bag around a bit
With an accomplished glimmer in his eyes he pulled the bento out from your bag
As he was retrieving the container, said bento caught the corner of a small notebook causing it to tumble out and flop open on the concrete
Tetsuya quickly scooped the book up from the ground fearing that he had gotten it scuffed or dirty, but those worries left as his attention was captured to the contents of the notebook
At first he thought the image was a digital picture you had printed out but the longer he looked the more he picked up on the smudgy finger prints littering the page
And then it clicked for him: You drew this!
Right next to the portrait of him was a smaller doodle of a scene he recognized as your phones lockscreen (a second year version of the two of you happily smiling at eachother, his arm wrapped respectfully around your waist as you struggled to look up at him due to the brim of his Seidou hat blocking your view)
The sketched version looked exactly the same as the real photo! It was beautiful and somehow you had managed to enhance the tender emotions portrayed in the picture
"Tetsuya, did you find the ben- oh.."
"Do you think you could draw a larger version of this? I want to put it on my desk."
You just laughed at his bluntness before giving him a nod in response
A small smile graced his features as he looked from you back to your messy sketch. It wasn't a look you saw very often from him, but that smile made your knees weak as you fell in love with him all over again
#kayquests#takigawa chris yuu x reader#takigawa chris yuu#isashiki jun#isashiki jun x reader#yuki tetsuya#yuki tetsuya x reader#daiya no ace#daiya no ace x reader#ace of the diamond x reader#ace of the diamond#diamond no ace#diamond no ace x reader
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