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demonslayedher · 3 years

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How Does Eating Humans Work?

Hello, Gotou here. We’re shamelessly borrowing from the format of a KnY Fanbook #2 comic to launch an investigation into demon metabolism and development by crossing the Sanzu River again to interview demons in the underworld. While we’ll be using canon materials as a base, the analysis and conjecture herein is personal, so we ask for your understanding. Also, please note that consuming any food in the underworld will make you unable to return, and we cannot promise your safety even though the interview subjects are dead, so please come along at your own risk.

Some of the questions we’d like to answer are, why do demons need to eat humans? How much do they need to eat to survive? Are there factors that influence how eating humans makes them stronger? If they don’t want to kill humans, what are their other options? We’ve rounded up some special guests below the cut (hidden for length and grossness), everyone from the lowly Temple Demon to the lovely Tamayo, to see what their actions in canon might tell us.

First, a review of what canon tells us, mostly as summarized in Fanbook #2: 1. With one exception named Yushirou, all demons were created by Kibutsuji Muzan, for his own purposes. They all have some amount of his blood, and can be divided into four classes depending on how powerful they are. From top to bottom, the Upper Moons, the Lower Moons, demons with special abilities, and other demons without any special characteristics. 2. Demons may be stronger depending on how much of Kibutsuji Muzan’s blood they have. Most beings’ cannot handle a large amount of his blood, and it will rupture the cells and that being will die, but there are demons who adapt well to it. 3. Typically, sunlight is the only way to kill a demon, by either bathing them in sunlight or cutting of their head with a Nichirin blade. However, there are powerful demons for whom chopping off their head does not work, and if it’s strong enough, demons can also be killed by wisteria poison.

4. Demons eat human blood and flesh. The more they eat, the stronger they become, and the faster their regenerative abilities become. Some humans have “Marechi,” a rare blood type, which is especially nutritious to demons, and eating one Marechi is the equivalent of eating several humans.

That’s an interesting thing we’d like to come back to, especially since we’re looking for quantitative information about how demons gain nutrition (though I have my doubts we'll get enough for statistical analysis). As an interesting note, Fanbook #2 also tells us that if demons try to consume the same edibles humans do, they’ll vomit it back up.

I’m told that Miss Tamayo drinks tea, though. That’ll be an interesting question for later. In my notes, it seems she’s also explained to Tanjirou back in Chapter 15 that demons will normally go berserk if they go a long time without consuming any blood or flesh. Berserk is one thing, but I wonder if they can starve to death? We’ll see if these canon clues will lead us to anything. We’ll begin now in an interview format. Hopefully this will go smoothly, but I’ve got a feeling it won’t. First up, we’ve the Temple Demon.

Temple: Who were you calling ‘lowly’ just now? Up there, above the cut?

Gotou: That was in a literal sense, not having Blood Techniques means you’re in the bottom common tier of demons.

Temple: Argh. Fine. What do you want to know?

Gotou: In Chapter 2, you were spotted with three human victims. However, it seems you left their bodies mostly intact and only ate small parts instead of consuming one full human at a time. Could you comment on this?

Temple: I’d have gotten to more later if that whelp with the strong legs didn’t interrupt me! Who’s got time to eat entire humans anyway? I went for the easy stuff first.

Gotou: I see. It appears you might had focused on key organs, like the heart and the liver. Would you say these are especially nutritionally dense?

Temple: I guess. If I’m going to eat humans, I’m going to start with what’s worth bothering to digest. Blood’s easier on the stomach, so that’s what I was busy with on the lady there.

Gotou: Then it takes effort to digest? Hmm. Let’s come back to this later. How many humans would you say you consumed, including these three?

Temple: Not a lot… I tried to get a variety so I could get stronger faster, but…

Gotou: I’ll put down a guess as ten or less. Let’s move on to someone who has a sharper memory for numbers. One of our longer-lived guests at Mt. Fujikasane for 47 years, the Hand Demon. While most of the demons on the mountain had only eaten two or three humans, you’ve eaten a whole 50 of the children who headed into the Final Selection, didn’t you?

Hand: Yes, that’s right. It was hard at first since I wasn’t very strong, and the demons usually all went crazy there eating each other, just like that one brat who got away in Chapter 7 said. If you could manage to kill any of the kids, you had the other demons to fight off to even get a piece to yourself. That was enough to get me by, and stronger, little by little. Your body learns to make your meals last, and make the most of what you can get. I usually only had a bite of one child a year, can you imagine how horrible that was? Most demons who survive usually figure out some way to develop and survive better, and once my cells found something that worked for me, I kept doing it. I got really good at snatching away prey from other demons, and soon enough I was a bigger threat than any of them. None of them could, you might say, lay a hand on me.

Gotou: That’s an interesting point about self-development. A demon named Nezuko was spent two years doing that in her sleep.

Hand: She must have had a big meal before that!

Gotou: Well, anyway. It seems that in near starving conditions, your metabolism made the most of what you had, leading to the most efficient use of whatever food was available to you.

Hand: That’s right, I got really good at it. Wasn’t always pretty, but I made it work. I got to a point where I could go two years without eating and still keep my wits about me while the other demons were going mad. But I chose to eat. I liked to keep my appetite for specific children.

Gotou: That smile is not reassuring. Some humans taste better than others, I guess?

Hand: That’s for sure. This one kid tasted awful, like rust and man sweat! I still don’t have that disgusting taste out of my mouth! But he was one of my more satisfying meals, so I ate more of him.

Gotou: Then why would you… nevermind, I don’t like that smile, no further questions. While I had hoped to keep these interviews focused on quantities of humans consumed, it does seem personal taste is worth asking about. I had tried to invite a Swamp Demon from Chapter 11, but it kept arguing with itself and it felt like I’d be wasting my time. The one definite thing I learned was that this demon is picky, with a distinct preference for 16-year-old girls. Based on the number of trinkets he kept, it seems he had consumed at least seventeen of them, including several in one town. Sheesh, that’s sort of a rough mission to send a first-timer on. I’ve got a more cooperative guest here to discuss her tastes, a Snake Demon who, according to Chapter 188, has a special taste for baby flesh.

Snake: Thank you for having me here. It’s good to be appreciated again.

Gotou: Did you only eat babies?

Snake: Goodness, no. Babies are delicious, but they aren’t very nutritious. And their skulls certainly aren’t that big, the ones I lounged around with were from the people whom I killed and stole from. But you know the nice thing about baby skulls? They’re still soft. They take a long time to digest, but I can swallow them whole.

Gotou: Like… like a snake, then. Sorry, I’m a little ill hearing that. Let’s back up, were all those skulls the remains of adults you ate, then?

Snake: Meh, I ate some of them of better-looking ones, but most of them I only killed. I could usually kill a lot more at a time than I could bother eating, my killing record was fifty women all at once.

Gotou: And you didn’t find that wasteful?

Snake: Wasteful? Not at all. I wasn’t exactly in dire straits, I lived a more luxurious life than most demons do. That meant I could afford to wait for a truly delicious meal, like how you humans might leave something in a slow-cooker to enjoy the perfect combination of doneness and tenderness, plated in the most appetizing of ways.

Gotou: I guess demons and humans are similar in that regard.

Snake: I’m so glad you can relate! Then you understand the frustration of a meal you’ve be preparing for years opening up the slow-cooker and running away right when they were just about done.

Gotou: I have never had that experience.

Snake: I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little snake, too.

Gotou: I think we might have gotten a little off-topic here. It does seem digesting humans comes with some difficulty. I’d like to invite the Drum Demon in next. Your name is Kyougai, I hear?

Kyougai: !!

Gotou: Kyogai, right?

Kyougai: You’ve heard of me! You know my name!

Gotou: I happened to, yes.

Kyougai: What have you heard???

Gotou: That you were kicked out of the Lower Moons for being unable to consume enough humans.

Kyougai: Oh. ……..yeah, that’s me.

Gotou: I thought demons go berserk if they go a long time without consuming humans. Wouldn’t that make an inability to consume them problematic?

Kyougai: It wasn’t that I couldn’t eat them! Like I said in Chapter 24, I had to in order to sustain myself, just like any other demon. But, at some point, I couldn’t eat as much as I used to. That happens to humans too, doesn’t it? When you just can’t stomach anymore?

Gotou: You mean like when you’ve overeaten? In a human’s case that feeling may go away within a few hours.

Kyougai: Sort of like that, but you know, humans reach a time when nothing is appetizing or the thought of eating makes them feel sick, right? Isn’t that the human condition?

Gotou: …uh… maybe if they have a medical condition? Or anxiety? Do demons get anxiety? Or eating disorders?

Kyougai: I… I don’t know. I just wasn’t good enough.

Gotou: I think it’s plenty good if you stopped eating humans. Though to have developed Blood Techniques and been a Lower Moon in the first place, you must had eaten a great number of them.

Kyougai: You think I’m great?

Gotou: What?

Kyougai: No, sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. It’s true, I used to be able to eat as many as the other Lower Moons always consumed. Our stomachs were stronger, you might say. Demons got strong by eating humans, and then the more you did that the better you usually got at it, so the strong ones would eat more and more and keep getting stronger and stronger. At least, that’s how it usually worked. I’ve seen other demons below me reached that point too, where they feel the drive to eat, but then they have trouble digesting it for a long time, so they don’t wind up eating that many people.

Gotou: Then it would make sense to eat the most nutritionally dense parts first.

Kyougai: Or a Marechi.

Gotou: Yes, or a Marechi.

Kyougai: It was a great idea, wasn’t it?

Gotou: I cannot condone any consumption of humans as a good idea.

Kyougai: I knew it. I’m nothing. Go ahead, stomp all over everything I ever tried to accomplish.

Gotou: I think I’m going to move on to my next interviewee now. It looks like we’ve got… oh, would you look at this? Lower Moon One. Enmu, I believe.

Enmu: You can believe whatever you want. I’m happy to help.

Gotou: I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m curious, since you were one of the stronger demons out there, it seems you had a stronger capacity for consuming humans.

Enmu: I did, I was always careful and paced myself so the Demon Slayers wouldn’t notice me. I took my time. I liked to enjoy e-e-e-a-c-h one.

Gotou: Then you had tastes too? Like babies, or 16-year-old girls?

Enmu: I could season any human to my liking. They’re all very easy to prepare.

Gotou: I’m still trying to get quantitative data. Can you tell me at least a rough estimate of how many humans you consumed?

Enmu: I told this more precisely to that boy with the earrings back in Chapter 59, and I can tell you this too. At my best, I could had eaten over two-hundred people at once if I took my time.

Gotou: OH MY GAW----sorry, I dropped my pen. Two hundred, at once?

Enmu: Yes. If I had just. Had. A little. More. Time.

Gotou: Clearly there is a huge difference between what common demons are capable of and what the Twelve Moons are capable of.

Daki: Psh, those were all any random common people. That’s nothing to brag about.

Gotou: Excuse me, and you are?

Daki: Daki, Upper Moon Six. You want something really impressive, you talk to the Upper Moons.

Gotou: I’m sorry, I don’t see you on my list.

Daki: What! Your list is stupid. Look me in the eyes, I’m Upper Moon Six!

Gotou: Very well, then. What can you tell me about your diet, Miss Upper Moon Six?

Daki: That’s more like it. It’s true that digestion takes a while, and takes some effort. Even though we Upper Moons may have eaten hundreds of people in our lifetimes, it’s not as if we gorge ourselves. The clever ones among us save prey for later to eat when we feel ready for it.

Gotou: Food storage? How do you keep them fresh?

Daki: You leave them still alive, numbskull. Nobody wants to eat something cold, that’s gross.

Gotou: I see, so that’s why demons prefer to go after new kills instead of saving what they’ve already managed to kill. That also might explain why the demons on Mt. Fujikasane wouldn’t had eaten many humans, if they found long dead ones in edible.

Daki: You want to know the real secret to eating humans? You can eat what you find tastes good, sure. But to get stronger, you eat strong people. Like your Corp members, the ones besides chumps like you? Using all that Breath makes their muscles really lean and potent, it’s like they come offering themselves as protein bars for us.

Gotou: You make them sound like a fad diet…

Daki: The real secret is eating Pillars. Besides Marechi, they’re the strongest meals out there. Guess how many I’ve eaten?

Gotou: I don’t have the data to make an educated guess.

Daki: Then get educated! Look back at Chapter 88! I’ve eaten seven Pillars, and my brother has eaten fifteen!

Gotou: Your brother? Who is he, then, Upper Moon Five?

Daki: What? Ew. Gross. Gross! No way, ew!

Gotou: Hmm… eating Pillars, huh? Well, I can think of one Pillar who was…

Douma: Me too!

Gotou: Speak of the devil.

Douma: Actually, we Upper Moons can! And he's not Satan, that's not how this works. But I guess Muzan-sama’s curse doesn’t effect us now. Ask me anything you want!

Gotou: That Chapter 143 reference was such a rude entrance. I understand that Pillars are particularly nutritious—

Douma: Oh, please don’t misunderstand! I don’t even eat all the Pillars I’ve encountered. There was the one Flower Pillar who got away from me, but some of the boy pillars I just leave around. What’s really the key to consistent nutritional intake is women! It’s really unhealthy for a demon not to get enough women in their diet, that’s why even if you’re only looking for Marechi or Pillars, your metabolism is going to get thrown out of whack with sudden big meals. You grow a stronger metabolism with consistency, I believe!

Gotou: If I could stop you there, I had an image from Chapter 142 I preferred to focus on for this case study. I see you keep a wide collection of skulls, from victims whom I assume you ate.

Douma: Yes, they all stayed together inside me for eternity, but the room looked lonely without décor.

Gotou: It seems other demons usually go for nutritionally dense organs like hearts or livers, or easy to digest parts of the body, perhaps just blood sometimes. Eating the entire victim, bones and all, doesn’t seem to be the norm.

Douma: Bones are organs too, you know! That’s where blood is made, at its freshest. They do take more practice in learning to digest, and I had to find a way around not having to chew them, but the bone marrow is very, very good for you, so I make sure to consume it frequently. It may take more time and it causes some of my followers to panic more while they wait, though, that’s a bit of a downside. Oh, and I guess bones can make good storage for some sneaky poison. Even fingernails and hair follicles, who’d have thought?

Gotou: I don’t think hair would have much nutritional value in the first place. In all my years, I can never recall seeing a victim with their hair eaten.

Douma: Tsk, tsk! Clearly you haven’t done much metabolism research in advance. I was really impressed by how well Shinobu-chan understood how my digestion would work. Eating hair can do amazing things! Isn’t that right, Genya-kun?

Genya: ?????????

Gotou: Genya-kun!?

Genya: What am I doing here?

Gotou: I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Isn’t there, you know, another side? The other direction?

Genya: What are you doing here? Did you die?

Gotou: I’m here doing research on demon metabolism and how they get stronger by consuming flesh.

Douma: What can you tell us about what up with having your friend feed you hair you found on the floor in Chapters 170-171, Genya-kun?

Genya: I’m not a demon!! Why the hell are you asking me?

Douma: ‘Hell’! Haha, good one!

Gotou: How do you even know about that? You were dead almost a full volume before that. And Genya’s different, he’s not a case study in how demons consuming humans works!

Douma: Are you certain?

Gotou: I hear the term get thrown around a lot that he’s ‘half-demon’, but—

Genya: I’m not a demon!!!

Gotou: --how would that even work? That would imply that one of his parents had to be a demon, and that—

Genya: What did you say about my mother!?!

Gotou: What? Nothing—

Genya: You say that to my face! You just trying saying something about my mother to my face! My mother never actually ate any flesh, you got that? She doesn’t deserve any of this!

Gotou: Genya, calm down, what—

Douma: I see we’re learning nothing about hair at all. Maybe Kokushibou-dono would provide better commentary on that?

Genya: Mom? Mo-o-o-o-m? Are you down here somewhere?

Gotou: And there he goes… wait, did you say Kokushibou? Upper Moon One? Oh no—he—he didn’t want me bothering him, he did not agree to another interview—

Douma: He-e-e-e-e-y, Kokushibou-dono! How did that work with Genya-kun eating your hair? Hair can be nutritious, right?

Kokushibou: You would gain… nothing… from consuming human hair… it’s not… flesh… you wasted your energy digesting it…

Douma: Aww, cutting it off them would had been sad, though.

Kokushibou: Demon hair… like demon weapons… is made… from our unique cells. It’s not dead… like human locks. Because that boy ate my live cells… it affected him…

Gotou: Yes, because he had a very, very unique metabolism, analyzed separately in this post. To be perfectly clear, Genya is completely human with cells that could temporarily transform, and he never consumed human flesh.

Kokushibou: He… vexes me…

Gotou: Um… while I’ve got you here, you’re one of the longest lived demons, clocking in at over three, maybe four centuries. Do you have any estimate of how many humans you’ve consumed?

Kokushibou: ……I see in… Chapter 100… that you are 23 years old?

Gotou: That is correct.

Kokushibou: Do you bother… remembering how many meals… you’ve had in a mere 23 years?

Gotou: I’m very sorry to have bothered you.

Douma: Kokushibou-dono’s ancient compared to the rest of us! But if I tried, I could probably recall. Let’s see. One, two, three, four…

Gotou: Is that? Your finger in your brain? Oh—ohhh—that is disgusting---I really don’t need to know numbers that badly, please stop. Is there maybe just some average you can give me for the Upper Moons instead? Like how many you’d eat in a month?

Douma: I wish I could, but a certain someone was an annoying outlier and didn’t like to eat so many humans. He made me worry all the time about his health.

Gotou: Really? Who might that be?

Douma: Hello-o-o-o-o-? Akaza-dono? Yoohoo! He spends all his time with his wife now and never answers when I call, it makes me so sad. Akaza-dono did eat humans, plenty of strong ones, but any time he wasn’t under orders from Muzan he liked to spend his time training instead of eating. Fanbook #1 says he did that way more than eating!

Gotou: Training? What sort of training?

Douma: Similar things to what your Corp members did, I imagine. Doing squats, throwing punches, things like that.

Gotou: Then demon muscles had similar function to human muscles, and could be strengthened through hard work? That’s surprising.

Douma: I know, right? I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t think it was the physically repetition that did anything. I think it was his willpower getting honed and shaping his muscles.

Douma: I had to focus when I acquired new skills too, like breaking down poisons. A lot of sad, lowly demons, like that Hand Demon fellow? They focus as hard as they can in their desperation, or focus on some strong emotion or attachment or whatever, and they grow and develop because of it. Sometimes all their weak bodies can manage is an ugly mutation, but that’s proof enough of how much focus they had.

Gotou: That sheds a lot of light on Nezuko, actually.

Douma: Shed “light” on Nezuko-chan, hahaha! Sunlight! You humans are all so witty!

Gotou: Speaking of willpower, I’ve got one more interview I need to get to down here. Of all the demons I have records of, only Nezuko went her whole time as a demon without consuming any human flesh, although she did go through moments of berserk cravings for it. It’s possible that other demons were killed before they could consume anything, but typically they will consume flesh as soon as possible, which is why its common for their family and close relations to be among the first ones killed. Tomioka-san even mentioned in Chapter 1 that these close relations are especially nutritious.

Gotou: A demon about as old as Kokushibou, if not older, is a special case of her own. She was one of the only demons we know of to have escaped Kibutsuji’s curse and acted in dependently of him, including having created a demon of her own after two hundred years of trying. Most notably to our purposes, she trained herself to subsist on small amounts of blood, after having survived on corpses and wild animals for a time, according to the extensive Taisho Secrets at the end of Volume 21.

Tamayo: I explained this in more detail to Tanjirou-san in Chapter 15, but I went on to purchase blood from poor people, and extracted it in ways that wouldn’t be harmful to them. The one demon I created, Yushirou, could subsist on even less. I gained enough self-control that I could treat injured humans without feeling tempted into a berserk state.

Gotou: I was just talking to Douma about willpower making demons capable of accomplishing new physical developments. Was that how you were able to gain this state? I heard you even enjoy a cup of tea now and then.

Tamayo: Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it. I’d offer you some if not for this, you know, being hell. It’s nothing like the hell I went through when first resisting consuming humans, though. My demon body refused to take anything but fresh human flesh at first, but in the hardest moments, I always remembered a kind demon hunter who said he believed in me and my desire to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. I believe Nezuko may have summoned her strength to resist the call of her demon cells in a similar way; she knew she had her brother there to rely on. Once she mastered something as remarkable as resisting the need for human flesh, it gave her the freedom to prioritize other developments.

Gotou: You spent centuries researching demon cells, especially how demons may break down and metabolize poisons.

Tamayo: I had not studied the metabolism of poisons until working with Shinobu-san. The medicine we concocted for Kibutsuji was only possible thanks to her work, and I couldn’t had worked with many of those wisteria-based substances on my own. I feel I was only there to fill in the gaps of her brilliant understanding.

Gotou: You’re very humble. I would pass along my thanks and compliments to Shinobu-sama too, but I’m pretty sure she’s not down here. On that note, did Genya-kun go back home?

Tamayo: He did after a nice reunion with his mother just now, it was very sweet. Shizu-san and I get along well, after all, we both carry similar guilt.

Gotou: Wait, was his mother a demon? That means Wind-sama’s mother was too? Wait?? What??

Tamayo: The worst hell I went through, or that any demon has gone through, is to realize what you’ve eaten after the hunger-driven madness clears. Being similar to your own cells, they’re easy on a volatile new anatomy to break down and digest. That’s why many demons may have driven themselves to forget everything all over again, or to twist their personalities to justify the horror, saying that because they ate the hearts of their loved ones and because demon flesh can live forever, then they never truly killed them. The truth always remained untwisted for me, and to this day, it torments me more than anything in this underworld can try.

Gotou: …

Tamayo: You should wake up now, Gotou. You’ve been through a lot; the nightmares must be taxing on your health. Please remember to eat well.

#kny fandom theories and meta #too many characters to tag #I wrote this draft early last week and only this morning had time to edit it but it took foreeeevvvverrr on my slow computer #now off to work #eat well everybody #I'm off to work #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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peteparkersbug · 3 years

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A Drunk Man’s Actions Are A Sober Man’s Thoughts (Loki x F!Reader)

Hey guys! I hope you’ll enjoy this short Loki fic!

For Context: This takes place sometime before Thor 1, so that’s why I referred to Loki as an Odinson, not Laufeyson.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: alcohol consumption

It felt like there was always a celebration going on in Asgard. Whether it was a resolution of a fight between Sif and Loki, or maybe Thor and his friends had won a battle against some foes. No matter the day, someone was celebrating something.

Today's occasion? The 500th wedding anniversary between Odin and his gorgeous wife, Frigga. They had invited all of Asgard to the palace for a grand feast and a night of drinking plus dancing.

You were very much looking forward to the event; it gave you a chance to dress up and forget about any and all problems in your life. Besides, seeing the youngest Odinson dress up was always a treat.

You and Sif were currently in her chambers, picking out outfits from the vast selection of fine Asgardian fabrics that Frigga had brought you two.

"What about this one?" Sif asked, stepping out of the bathroom to reveal herself in a royal purple gown.

You smiled brightly, nodding your head rapidly, "that's it! That's definitely the one!"

She returned the smile and pulled her hair out of it's signature pony tail, sitting down on the bed, "okay (Y/N), it's your turn. Pick a gown," she declared, gesturing to all the options.

They all looked so beautiful and were to your liking, but a certain forest green one caught your eye; it had the perfect amount of lace, it was flowy, and it was cut at the perfect length.

Lady Sif smirked at the colour choice and watched as you entered the bathroom, closing the door to have some privacy while you changed. When you came out, she had no words; your beauty literally made her speechless.

"(Y/N)...." she trailed off, making you freeze. Was it bad?

"It's perfect for you! You're definitely gonna catch the eye of a certain someone-" she cut off her sentence with a squeal as you slapped her shoulder, claiming you had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

The two of you finished getting ready and made your way to the dining hall, taking the seats you sat in everyday. Eventually, everyone was gathered at the table, both Odin and Frigga giving excellent greetings and speeches towards each other; Frigga's was so moving it brought a few people to tears.

Throughout the boisterous and eventful dinner, you kept taking glances over at Loki, who was seated next to his mother with his brother next to his father. What you failed to notice is that Loki knew you were watching him; he always seemed to look over at you when you were already looking away, a blush on your cheeks as you talked to Sif.

He smirked slightly and took another swig of his chalice. He had no idea what was in it, but what he did know is that he wanted another. And maybe another...

When everyone had had their fill of the delicious meal, it was time for the after party; the chance for everyone to sing and dance and drink the night away. You enjoyed dancing, but Sif wasn't much of a dancer, so the two of you hung out by the corner, drinking your drinks while chatting quietly.

Loki watched you from across the room, blindly accepting another drink from his older brother, who had a mischievous smirk displayed. The youngest didn't have a clue as to why, but he also didn't really care; Thor was a strange man in his opinion.

Normally Loki would just watch you from afar, but something about tonight felt different. With a new carefree attitude, he sauntered over to you, chuckling quietly when he saw your panicked expression and your rapid whispers to Sif. When he got to you, Sif quickly excused herself, sending a knowing look to Loki; one that said 'show her a good time but watch yourself.'

He nodded at her, his way of silently thanking her.

"It's good to see you, my dear. I was waiting for our paths to cross tonight," he declared, making you cough on your drink.

My dear? That was new. You took a good look at his face, noticing the way his pupils were dilated, the harsh blush on his cheeks, and the goofy smile on his lips. You also took notice of the way his body swayed slightly; almost as if he couldn't keep his balance.

"Loki..." you trailed off, "....are you drunk?" you asked, making him burst into laughter.

"Oh (Y/N), my love. My darling, my goddess.....that's actually a good question. Am I? Who knows!" he exclaimed, loud laughter escaping him.

You tried to hold back any comments; it was very strange seeing Loki so loose and carefree at a party. Suddenly, a slow and melodic song came on, the youngest Odinson recognizing it immediately as his parent's wedding song.

He turned back to face you, holding his hand out, "well then, shall we, my queen?" he asked, ignoring the way your cheeks exploded into redness.

You couldn't say anything; you were so star struck, so you simply nodded, placing your shaking hand in his. He eagerly yet softly led you to the dance floor, ignoring the shocked looks from the other guests and the smug looks on Thor and Sif.

With some trouble due to Loki's intoxicated state, the two of you managed to waltz around like everyone else, genuinely having a nice time. The only rough patch was when Loki stumbled over his own feet, making you bump into Frigga and Odin. With a quick and quiet apology, the two of you continued your dance.

When the song changed to something more slow, you settled for swaying back and forth in his arms.

"(Y/N) my love, did I ever tell you how absolutely ravishing you look in that gown?" he asked, mumbling into your ear.

You tensed as he continued, "truly the most beautiful woman in all of Asgard and the Nine Realms."

You couldn't help yourself, you blushed a deep red. However, you knew you had to put a stop to it, "Loki, you can't say stuff like that..."

He grabbed your chin, making you look up into his stunning eyes, "and why not, darling?"

You forced yourself to look anywhere but him as you said, "you're drunk. By tomorrow, you're not going to remember or mean any of this," a quick breath escaped your lips when you finished.

As you gained the courage to finally look back at him, you saw that he looked....hurt; almost betrayed.

"(Y/N), do you really think that?" he asked nervously, his tone completely serious.

With some hesitation you nodded, prompting him to stop swaying the two of you. He shook his head, cupping both your cheeks and stroking them with his thumbs.

"Well..." he began, a nervous yet excited glint in his eyes, "as they say on Migard: a drunken man's actions are a sober man's thoughts."

You were about to ask him what he meant by that, but you couldn't speak as you suddenly felt a pair of lips on yours. Your eyes widened as you realized Loki Odinson, the prince of Asgard, was kissing you. It didn't take you long to kiss back, the two of you pouring your frustrations and affection into it.

When you pulled away, the two of you were breathless, panting slightly. You shared a smile and leaned back in, your lips meeting again. You didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but you decided that living in this moment for right now was perfectly fine with you.

#loki #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston #tom hiddlestion imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x reader

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sluttyten · 3 years

Note

“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?” “You can’t leave without letting me hug you first”

Haechan😊

Can I ask for it be kinda e2l? If possible no worries if not. Thanks!

(this one actually gets kinda long, so I did put it under a read more)

You and Lee Donghyuck did not get along. Like at all.

It was a strong annoyance to all of your mutual friends at university (which was most of your friends, honestly), but he was basically your enemy. Donghyuck was the one person that frustrated you beyond belief, and any time you were around each other all you could do was bicker, physically fight, or play mean pranks on each other. So you understood why your friends hated it because they were often collateral damage. The enemyship with him had even ruined a few relationships in the past on your part and on his.

So it was no surprise to you that when the university’s computer programming/technology department put out a prototype app just in time for the Valentine’s season, your friends insisted you make a profile. The app was meant to find you a top match based off a personality test you would take; it would compare your profile to all the others in the university (as this app so far was only available to students at your university), and select the top ten most likely matches.

They advertised it as some cupid match-making service, free of charge. They were just hoping for some good reviews and a great audience to test their app-developing skills on.

Your friends pushed you to make your profile, pointing out how single you’d been since your bickering with Donghyuck had caused you and your last boyfriend to breakup.

“It’s Valentine’s Day this weekend!” One of your friends said, jabbing at the screen of your phone. “We’re trying to find you a perfect date!”

So you play along. You answer all the questions honestly. And even as you’re kind of skeptical about the whole thing, the optimistic part of your mind is already racing, really hoping that the cute boy you saw at the campus gym or the handsome musician playing on the quad last week might end up being the perfect match for you.

But then just a handful of minutes after you complete your profile, your results are in.

The best possible match for you is Lee Donghyuck.

You nearly throw your phone across your dorm, ready to fight someone, possibly one of your friends beside you because you’re certain they somehow set you up. There was no possible way that you and Donghyuck were even remotely compatible.

“Oh, come on,” one of them says to you. “You two spend all your time bickering over nonsense, how would you even know what you have in common?”

You can’t help thinking it’s ridiculous nevertheless, and you plan to ignore that the app said that you and Donghyuck were each other’s Top Match. Preposterous.

But as the days dwindle away and Valentine’s Day is just two days away, the campus explodes in swathes of pink and red, hearts and lovey dovey stuff everywhere. All you see are couples. All of the advertisements on social media are romance-related. So many of your friends and acquaintances and classmates are preparing for dates with their significant others or with their matches from that damned app.

Therefore, on that Friday night when you get back to your dorm room from your last class, you break out a bottle of wine and make some questionable decisions.

For one thing, you message Donghyuck using a messaging feature on the matchmaking app. Even while drunk you know it’s a bad idea, but you do it anyway. You complain to him how dumb this app is that it matched you and him as Top Matches when really you hate each other, but you think that if he doesn’t already have any plans on Valentine’s Day, you’d be open to seeing if maybe this app is onto something.

The moments between the words under your message bubble changing from delivered to read seem to drag on, but the time between read and receiving a response from Donghyuck are an eternity. You are well and truly blitzed by the time your phone buzzes with his response, inviting you over to his dorm on Valentine’s Day for a movie.

You refuse to tell your friends about it, and as soon as you wake up the following morning and realize that the conversation you’d had with Donghyuck the night before wasn’t just a weird dream, you swear him to secrecy too. You don’t want your friends learning about this and trying to make it a big deal or anything. You’re just giving him a chance. Just one chance to make a friend out of an enemy.

It’s certainly not a formal date, and you’re fine with that. You show up at Donghyuck’s dorm room wearing leggings and a hoodie, and when he opens the door he’s dressed the same.

“Nice effort you put in for the holiday.” He teases, looking you up and down.

You step around him into the room. You’ve been in here before because you’re friends with his roommate, but those visits had been brief, always interrupted by Donghyuck returning and the two of you fighting. But now you’re alone in the room, and when you turn to look at Donghyuck again, you can tell that he’s trying to be on his best behavior and you suppose that you at least owe him the same.

“I ordered some food,” he tells you, rubbing the back of his neck. “You like Thai food, right?”

As you wait for the food, you sit down at the chair in front of his desk, he sits down on his bed, and for the first time since the two of you met each other, you actually talk to each other, speaking civilly and getting to know each other. You discuss those things that you surprisingly have in common, and as you’re laughing together about some drama that you’re both watching, you realize that maybe Donghyuck isn’t so bad after all.

The food arrives and you eat, and you realize at some point that you’ve never been actually alone with him before. You’ve always been in public or around friends, and maybe that’s been part of the problem all this time; having an audience has fed into this relationship’s harshness. And despite your history, you do find yourself feeling rather comfortable even as you sit on his bed on the bottom bunk, sliding back until your back is against the bundle of pillows against the wall as Donghyuck (”Haechan,” he’d insisted a few moments earlier. “Everyone else calls me Haechan, and if we’re planning to change things between us, I think you should too.” But you like calling him Donghyuck.) messes with the large monitor on the desk across from his bed, queueing up a movie.

And while you had mentioned horror movies in your profile, claiming that you at least weren’t opposed to watching them, you didn’t expect that Donghyuck would choose a truly terrifying one. You were fine for the first few minutes of it as Donghyuck (Haechan,a voice whispers in the back of your mind) was sitting beside you looking comfortable. But then the horror shit started and you gradually started drawing your knees up toward your chest, pulling a blanket up over your lap, staring at the screen but thinking instead of anything that was less horrifying.

It’s not like you expected to watch a romantic movie on your Valentine’s date with your enemy, but he enjoys comedies so you’d hoped a bit for that. You hadn’t thought that some scary horror movie filled with suspense would be the choice. Occasionally you glance over at Donghyuck and he’s looking at the screen, his knees drawn up under the blanket, his hand over his mouth, but he’s watching it.

You both jump violently at one point. He moves so high that the top of his head smacks into the slats if the bunk above his.

“Are you okay?” You reach over to feel the top of his head. You’re smiling a little just because the string of expletives leaving his mouth sound funny. “You jumped so hard,” you tease him, slipping your fingers through his hair to that tender spot he just hit. “Are you scared, Hyuckie?”

He looks over at you, something confused in his eyes.

There’s a loud bang and scream from the movie, and you both wince. He sighs and glances back at the screen, only to slap a hand over his eyes as the demon appears suddenly on screen. “This movie is really scary,” Haechan admits suddenly, “but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”

He’d split his fingers to peek at the screen again right as some violent and new terror appeared on the screen.

You can’t stand it either, so you hide your face, but it just so happens that you hide your face by pressing it to the back of Hyuck’s shoulder and clutching tightly at his arm. After another moment of the sound coming from the movie being nothing good for the characters, Hyuck pulls away from you, climbing off the bed, and he goes to shut off the movie.

“You chose the movie!” You tell him as he looks back at you on his bed. “Why would you chose something that was just going to scare you?”

“Because your profile said you liked scary movies! But why were you so scared?” He turns his back, searching quickly through the options for other movies, and only turns back around to join you on his bed when there’s a new movies playing. You’re grateful when the title screen pops up and you can see it’s a comedy movie.

When he sinks back again beside you, he’s closer this time, his shoulder leaning against yours, and neither of you pull away.

This movie is loads easier to watch, yet despite that you can feel that he’s not watching it as intently as he should. You spend about half of the movie ignoring the way that you can feel Donghyuck looking at you from the corner of his eye and sometimes more directly. You try to ignore how you think that if you’d met him under different circumstances long ago, you probably would’ve liked him a lot more, maybe would have dated him instead of all this time spent fighting with each other.

When the movie ends you realize that you and Hyuck have sunken together. You’re pressed against his side; he’s even got an arm stretched along the pillows behind you.

For once he’s looking at the movie, smiling at the last scene, but you look at him, just observing his face and how close the two of you are right now. And in the light of the recent realization you made about how you probably would’ve dated him ago age, you’re just in awe of how he looks right then. He’s handsome.

Suddenly he turns his head to look at you.

That’s too close, too much. His lips are like an inch away from yours.

You tear yourself away, off his bed in two seconds. “I had fun tonight,” you say as you push your feet back into your shoes and start searching around for your jacket. “But it’s getting late, I should head back to my dorm. Maybe-- Maybe we can do this again sometime.” You suggest it without looking at him, scared that if you make eye contact now he’ll see what’s really going on in your mind--your brain playing out a scenario where you hadn’t pulled away just now, a scenario where he’d kissed you and you’d kissed him too.

Hyuck moves forward so he’s sitting on the edge of his bed. “Your coat’s on the desk chair.” He points, and you quickly grab it, slip it on. You hesitate for a moment, not reaching for the door, but clearly not wanting to stay here. Lee Donghyuck your former enemy, stands up and says, “You can’t leave without letting me at least hug you first.”

“What?” You ask, incredulous at the suggestion.

“Well, coming in here before tonight, we kind of hated each other didn’t we? I feel like we should make some kind of show of peace between us so we can both remember that tonight wasn’t just a pause in all the fighting.” He rubs the back of his neck and glances at the monitor on the desk where the movie credits are still rolling.

You nod. “Okay.”

Maybe it should feel awkward hugging him now after everything in the past, but it doesn’t. It feels nice and warm. His arms wrap securely around your shoulders, you feel his chest against yours, your fingers twist in the back of his sweatshirt. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest, and you wonder if he’s nervous, and you can’t fight down the smile.

You remember a time long ago, shortly after you’d met and begun this argumentative relationship, one of your friends suggesting to you that maybe Donghyuck liked you, had a crush on you like a middleschool boy who doesn’t know how to confront his feelings head-on. You thought that was ridiculous, but now you wonder if there’d been some truth to it.

He’d been so quick to agree to this date tonight. He’d ordered food he knew you would like, put on a movie that he thought you’d like, and requested a hug with some flimsy excuse. Maybe Lee Donghyuck did have a long-standing crush on you.

You unknot your fingers from his sweatshirt, trailing your hands down around to his sides, slipping down to his hips, and you pull back.

Haechan’s arms loosen from your shoulders, but they don’t move away completely. When you look into his eyes, he’s already gazing intently at your face. He’s already got such warm skin, but you can see a slight flush of pink rising to the surface. Your faces are so close once more; his lips are just an inch away.

This time you don’t pull away, you push in.

The kiss is short, barely more than a damp press of your lips on his, and then you’re backing off, reaching for the door. Haechan’s fingers drag at your shoulders, like he wants to hold you close, reel you back in for more, but you’re already out of reach, fingers on the doorknob.

“Don’t tell any of our friends about this.” You say as you crack the door open. “I’ll text you when I make it back to my dorm. Goodnight, Haechan.”

And right before the door closes behind you on your way out, you hear a quiet and dazed, “Goodnight.”

thank you to everyone who sent these in! prompts/requests are now closed, but I’ll be working on the ones I got before this! to see more drabbles you can click here

#asks #haechan drabbles #nct drabbles #nct dream drabbles #nct 127 drabbles #this one kinda turned out longer than a drabble #i just ended up really liking the idea once i got it set in my head

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Text

Gilded Cage - Choose Your Own Whump

Here it is! My first attempt at a choose your own adventure type of whump story. In this story, Villain is kept by the Heroes as a prop for the media-- but what will they do when a rare chance at contacting the outside world presents itself?

CW//Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, implied torture, panic attacks

There was something about a gilded cage that made it worse than any other type of imprisonment.

Sure, it was comfortable. You were well provided for, fed and watered incredibly generously. But that, in and of itself, was one of the worst parts.

Being imprisoned, locked away in a cell somewhere with a big heavy padlock over the door, it meant that someone thought you were dangerous enough to require that kind of security. In the most minuscule way, it was a display of respect.

But a gilded cage of comfort and warmth? It meant that your captor believed you to be domesticated. Docile. Too soft and serenely mannered to even bother chaining up.

Of course, that didn’t make the lock on the door any less real. It just made it that much more humiliating.

Villain groaned as the sound of knocking echoed through the room. They pulled their plush duvet closer to themself, sinking deeper into their unbelievably soft mattress.

“Lunch is ready. Get up. And make yourself look presentable, we have visitors.”

They were too tired to tell which of the Heroes was speaking, but it didn’t matter all too much. Their voices all blended together, after a time. All characterized by overwhelming politeness and platitudes, with a subtle undertone of annoyance.

If anything, the way they spoke was worse than if they had just yelled. They hated Villain, that was clear and that was expected. If only they would just say it out loud, instead of letting their tone speak for them.

Again, Villain grumbled, sitting up in bed and blinking blearily a moment. The bright red digital clock on the wall mechanically informed them that it was almost noon.

They just wanted to go back to sleep.

Of course, that wasn’t an option. They’d tried that. Tried hiding under the blankets and pretending the outside world didn’t exist. But it did, even as they hated it.

They pushed the blankets aside and got up, knowing full well that they would return to a bed made with military precision. Wandering over to their wardrobe, they couldn’t help but wish that they’d been informed earlier that they were expecting visitors. But, of course, when did anyone ever tell them anything.

Eventually, they selected a nice suit top in a dark maroon hue, along with matching pants. A presentable outfit, and hopefully fancy enough for whatever guests were being expected. It was almost certainly a news crew, or a government agent-- they came at least three times a week.

Clothes folded over their arm, they shook their head to clear their vision of sleep and made their way to the bathroom.

As always, the mirror was immaculate, stretching the whole length of one wall and going all the way up to the ceiling. Looking at it made them want to smash it to pieces, but they quelled their own anger quickly. It served no purpose.

They didn’t have to look at it. They could have just as easily closed their eyes, changed their clothes and ran out of the room. But they couldn’t. Though they had no clue as to why, some horrible force compelled them to raise their head, and stare directly into the eyes of their reflection.

Villain wanted to cry. Had this been a few months ago, they would have. But they’d long since mastered the art of choking back tears.

The person in the mirror-- they didn’t recognize them.

Sure, they had the same facial structure as Villain, the same eyes, and the same, well, everything. That was except for the layers of makeup covering them, clearing any imperfection and turning it into a glowing highlight. Not to mention their hair-- every two weeks or so, they’d have it professionally styled. What had once been a head of long, curled locks had been cut short and ironed straight. Apparently, that was the style that was currently “in.” Not that they’d had any choice in the matter.

To look presentable.

They washed the makeup from their face as best they could, knowing that whatever artist the visitors had brought with would do it again, in whatever way they liked it. Putting down the washcloth, they moved to unbutton the front of their nightgown...

But their hand drifted instead to their neck.

It was an instinctive motion, almost. A ritual. They unfolded the collar of their nightgown, pulling down the neckline, until the device was fully visible.

That was what the Heroes always called it. A “control device.” As if it was some kind of scientific advancement, some amazing invention.

It was nothing like that.

The device was a simple loop of metal, going around their neck, tight enough nearly to choke them. To remind them that it was always there. On the outside, the metal was smooth, marred not even by any kind of mechanism that would allow it to be removed. On the inside, however, they could feel the tiny studs, pressing against their flesh.

They didn’t think of it as their collar. They tried not to think of it as their collar. They tried not to think about it at all, in fact. But, every second, every breath they took, they could feel it. Even if it weighed less than a pound in actuality, to them, it felt to be made of the heaviest lead.

Weighing them down, ready to strike at any moment. Each and every one of the Heroes had one of the collar’s remotes. A simple press of a button, a simple click, and Villain would be writhing on the floor in agony. Every time one of the Heroes gave them a side-eyed look, they felt their stomach flip, waiting for the shock. For the horrible, horrible pain.

They tried to fit their finger between the device and their neck, though there was little avail. Still, even if it was only slight, they could feel on the tip of their finger their own charred skin.

Anxiety rose in their throat, twisting their stomach in knots. They shook their head. No. They had to get ready, and they were running out of time. The visitors were probably already waiting. In a practiced motion, they undid their nightgown and dressed in their far fancier outfit.

Even as they reached for the door handle, though, they could see their hand shaking.

It was just lunch. They’d been doing it every day for months. They could do it. They could do lunch.

It was just lunch.

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The dining table was a beast of wood and metal accents, stretching for the whole room, leaving only room for the dozen and a half chairs surrounding it.

Generally, the majority of these chairs would be empty. There were only so many Heroes, and generally their various sidekicks and assistants did not eat with them. Today, however, every last seat was filled.

They wore no identification, but Villain already knew who they were. A news crew. Journalists and cameramen and reporters. They hadn’t seen this particular crew before, but that didn’t mean much of anything. So many came through Headquarters that they all seemed to blend together.

As Villain emerged through the large, mahogany doors, every last one of the newspeople turned their heads. A few even appeared frightened. One among them gasped.

It was how they always reacted, the first time. They opened their mouth without speaking-- they had practiced their script so many times that it came to them as easily as breathing.

“Good afternoon, everyone. It’s nice to meet you.”

At the head of the table, Hero nodded in approval. Villain lowered their gaze and retreated to their seat, among the Heroes.

Even after so much time, it was hard to think of them as anything but hands, ready at any moment to press down on their remotes without so much as thinking.

That was the only good thing about having visitors. None of the Heroes would dare to use the collar when company was around. Each and every shirt that Villain owned was specifically chosen to hide the device-- no one else knew. A shared secret of dominance.

“Well, we’re so glad to have you here.” Hero smiled, looking out over the table. “Our food should be out in a moment. What all are you looking to be filming, today? Or photographing? I’m no expert on this type of thing, I must admit.”

It was a blatant lie. Hero knew everything there was to know about PR. They could wield the media better than they could wield their own powers.

“Well.” The person who seemed to be in charge of the news crew spoke up. “Did you receive the clothing shipment a few days ago?”

“We did, yes. I almost forgot, silly old Hero. Forgetful as ever.”

“No worries. We wanted to get some photos of you wearing them-- they were custom made, by an Italian designer. Supposedly the start of some kind of new line. They call it “Be Your Own Hero.” It’s a little cheesy, but that’s fashion for you.”

“I’m sure it is. Is that all, then?”

“Mostly, yes. Though...” They bit their lip. “In light of recent events, we were wondering if, perhaps to supplement another story, we would be able to interview Villain? If you’re okay with it, of course, Villain.”

“Of course.” Villain smiled. “That would be wonderful.”

Hero nodded their agreement, though their eyes betrayed their tentativeness.

“Just Villain? I don’t believe the rest of us are too busy today, we would have plenty of time to speak to you, as well.”

“I don’t want to be impolite, but I’m sure you understand that this matter concerns them specifically. Maybe we could incorporate some quotes from you?”

“Don’t worry, I understand completely. That should work out just fine.”

Villain couldn’t stop themself from nervously twirling the cuff of their shirt. Whatever this ‘event’ was, they had no clue, and they most certainly didn’t want to give an interview about it. They’d been trained to do interviews, but never alone, and most of the time they just gave a few cursory answers while the Heroes took the spotlight.

Still, they couldn’t refuse. If Hero said they were doing the interview, then they were doing it.

They were a prop. They knew that. At the very least, they could be a good one.

A tinny bell chimed as the door to the kitchen opened, and an array of staff brought out a series of plates. Villain feared that they wouldn’t have much of an appetite.

Their collar was choking them. They could hardly breathe.

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It was amazing just how quickly the news crew had turned the front hall into a full-blown studio. Lights and backdrops and all kinds of equipment that Villain didn’t recognize were set up in dazzlingly bright arrays, making any movement a tripping hazard on account of just how many cables snaked about the wood floor.

The makeup station had been set up against one wall, with five chairs and countless boxes of powders and creams. Villain gripped the arms of their chair, doing their very best not to flinch or sneeze as a stranger dabbed blush onto their cheeks. Even after so much time, it was one thing they could never quite get used to. A stranger touching their face, moving their head about. They hated it.

But they did not protest. They sat as best as they could, muttering desperate apologies any time they lost control and jerked their head away from the invading touch.

Next to them, they could hear as the Heroes, one by one, were finished as got up from their seats. Chatting with different news people, laughing at their stupid jokes. Metal wheels whirred as clothes racks were pushed about.

“There you go.” The makeup artist smiled, speaking in a disgustingly chipper tone. Villain fluttered their eyelids open, at least glad that it was over.

Still talking with the different photographers and the like, the Heroes began drifting away, towards where all the lights and cameras were set up. Villain could already feel themself growing anxious. Sure, they hated the Heroes as much as anything, but at least when they were nearby, they could ensure that Villain was acting right. Feed them their lines. Keep up the facade.

Unsure of just where to go, they waited in the makeup chair. They fought to keep their gaze away from the door, the massive swinging wooden panels that led right out onto the street. To freedom.

Their kept their eyes fixed firmly on their shoes.

They weren’t sure exactly how long they stayed like that. Staring. Listening. The cameras on the other side of the room had already begun to flash.

At some point, after at least 15 minutes of sitting and waiting, obedient and docile, someone came up to them. A simply-dressed reporter, sweater vest and all.

At the very least, they didn’t have that stupid smile on their face. The media smile. The smile of glowing PR.

“Hello.” They were nervous, it was clear. More than just a little nervous, for that matter. “Um- You’re Villain, right?”

They looked up.

“Yep, that’s me!”

It made them feel sick.

“O-Oh. Okay. Um, my name is Journalist. It’s nice to meet you...?”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Journalist!”

“Are you ready for the interview?”

“Sure am.”

“Okay. Uh- Oh, wait.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Your shirt is inside out, I think.”

Villain felt their heart jump to their throat. It was an honest, simple mistake. They hadn’t even noticed. Yet, if the Heroes were here, it was certain that there would be retribution. Would they find out? Were they listening, right now? Ready to shove Villain into some back room to push their stupid buttons? Footsteps- oh god, was that them? Oh god oh god oh god-

“Hey, uh, can you hear me?”

“Sorry. I think I spaced out a little, there.”

“It’s fine. It’s no big deal. There’s a bathroom over there, so we can just fix your shirt quick and get onto the interview.”

“Sounds good.” They shook their head, shaking themself back to wakefulness. Once they were sure that they could, they stood to their feet. “I’ll only be a moment.”

“Um... They told us not to leave you alone.”

“What?” It came out more like a whisper.

“Yeah. It’s okay, um, I won’t look or anything. It’s just a security thing, I think.”

“Oh. Okay.” Villain swallowed.

Their heartbeat firmly moved to their throat, now. They hoped the shaking in their legs could not be seen as they and Journalist moved to the small bathroom, right off the side of the hall.

Villain stood in the corner, with Journalist sitting on a chair that was sitting in the corner opposite.

It was just a simple fix. It was fine. Everything was fine, it was okay.

Hands trembling as though an earthquake raged below their feet, they reached for the hem of their shirt, pulling it up and the sleeves off their arms, slipping it off over their head and working to flip it.

It was only the feeling of being watched that led them to look up at the young journalist, sitting in the corner. Eyes fixed on them.

More specifically, on their neck.

“Um... What is that? Villain, are you okay?”

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What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!

There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. Alongside each option is a question specifying what exactly will happen. Answering this question is completely optional, but it is great if you have any particular ideas! Otherwise, feel free to just put a letter.

To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!

I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes, and will choose whichever answer I find the most interesting to base the next part upon.

The choices and questions for this part are as follows:

A) Tell the truth - How much should Villain tell Journalist?

B) Lie - How should Villain explain away the collar?

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #whump prompt #choose your own adventure #gilded cage #imprisoned whumpee #villain whumpee #captivity whump

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #fluff

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loveofshows · 3 years

Text

A Pirate and the Prince

I might do another part of this but for now, enjoy!

---

Kara laughed as she raced through the streets. The shouts from the guards and the townspeople only fueled her laughter.

She hasn’t meant to get caught; she never really does. But they needed supplies and she was getting a little angsty on the ship. So, without so much of a word to any of her crewmates, she snuck off the ship and went to town.

She knew she was wanted; she was one of the most famous captains to sail the ocean.

She just wasn’t expecting to see so many wanted posters around town. She had gotten the last thing on her list and was nearing the castle before a guard noticed her and called for others. She was just glad she had enough time to send a message to the others.

Oh, Alex was going to be so mad.

“Halt!” a guard shouted. She looked back and gave them a bright smile.

“Don’t think I will!” she teased. She turned a corner sharply. and ran into someone. She

staggered back, blinking as she looked at the person she ran into.

He was wearing the royal colours and Kara could only assume he was part of the royal family.

Querl stumbled back and blinked at the woman in front of him. She was dressed like a pirate and there was something familiar about her that he couldn’t place. Before he had the chance to say anything to her, a voice rang out, “she’s over here!”

“Guess that’s my cue,” she said. Without thinking, Kara grabbed Querl’s hand and started running. Querl stumbled a little until he could keep pace with her.

“Quick! She has Prince Querl!” She heard the guard tell. Kara raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. The two of them kept running and it felt like they weren’t getting anywhere.

“Here, this way,” Querl said, pulling Kara to the right. She followed but pointed at the dead end.

“I know,” he said as he looked around. When he was satisfied that no one was watching, he pressed a brink.

Kara watched in surprise as part of the wall became a door. Querl pushed it open and pulled her inside before closing it.

“Great, now we cannot see,” Kara complained. Querl covered her mouth and shushed her. Kara only glared but did as he asked. When he knew she wasn’t going to make any noise, he dropped his hands and only then noticed how close he was to the pirate captain.

He could see the beauty of her blue eyes and noted she saw a lot and wondered what the stories told. He noticed the crinkles around her eyes as she smiled and found himself wondering what it would be like to make her happy.

The sounds of footsteps coming their way shook Querl out of his thoughts. They listened quietly as the guards stopped in front of the wall. “They were here!” someone yelled.

“But you have to admit, that Captain Danvers sure is something,” another guard said wistfully. Querl’s eyes widened when he finally had the name to the face in front of him. To say he was surprised was an understatement.

“Oh shut up,” another said, and judging by the clanking of the armor, they could only assume that the guard who praised Kara was pushed.

“They couldn’t have gotten far,” another said, bringing the conversation back on track. “Split up, we can’t lose them.” They began running again and soon it was quiet.

“Nice hiding place,” Kara said once she knew they were alone. “Now what do you suggest we do?” Querl didn’t answer and felt along the walls until he found a torch. He lit it and gestured for Kara to follow. With no other option, she did.

“Didn’t expect the crown prince to help a wanted criminal,” Kara noted after walking for a while in silence. Querl shrugged, looking at her from the corner of his eye. She was walking a little way behind him, the passageway too small for the two of them to walk side by side.

“When you’re already defining the Queen’s orders of staying within the castle walls. One can only add more to their defiance.”

Kara quirked an eyebrow, impressed. “So,” she started looking around the dark tunnel, “I didn’t know the town had secret tunnels around it.”

Querl hummed in thought. “Only a select few know of them,” he answered. “I stumbled into one by accident when I was ten, and I use them if I want to sneak out of the castle.”

“Do the guards know about them?”

“No, but I suspect that they will return to the castle and inform my mother about my situation,” he said as an afterthought. “She knows about the tunnels, and if she isn’t busy, she’ll come down here herself to find me. So, we have to hurry to your destination.”

“She’ll be worried about you, won’t she? I mean, they probably think I’ve kidnapped you or something.” Querl snorted and looked back to give her a look. “What?”

“You practically did kidnap me,” he answered, “you took my hand and ran forcing me to follow you.”

“Okay, yes that may be true,” she agreed, but pointed at him to emphasize her point, “but you could have let go at any time. Instead of doing that, you helped me escape and you still are. So that makes you a criminal.”

Querl shook his head but didn’t fight her on that, she did have a point. Kara beamed and celebrated her victory in silence.

“You’re wrong you know,” Querl said after a few moments of silence. Kara hummed and turned her attention on him in confusion, he sighed keeping his eyes forward. “About my mother. You’re wrong, she won’t be worried about me. Father might, but Mother wouldn’t. She’d be more worried about the heir to the throne more than my wellbeing.”

Kara stayed silent, unsure what to say to that. She couldn’t understand what he must be feeling.

She had parents who loved and cared about her and not the title she held. Even when she ran away and became a pirate, they still loved her. They made sure of that.

“I’m sorry,” was what she said instead. Querl shrugged and that was the end of that conversation.

They walked until they reached a crossroads causing Querl to stop and turned to her. “What?” she asked.

“Where is it that you wanted to exactly?”

“I thought you knew,” she said and shot him a grin when he gave her a pointed look. “The docks. That’s where my ship is.”

“You’re a wanted criminal and you still dock your ship where everyone can see it,” Querl questioned though it sounded more of a statement. Kara shrugged, studying each path wondering which would lead to the docks.

“What can I say? I love living on the edge,” she said and her smile grew. Querl raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. Instead, he turned left and started walking, Kara was quick to follow.

“So,” she started and Querl quickly learned that this certain captain doesn’t like the quiet. Which was fine with Querl, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the quiet either. “What made you decide to help me?”

“What made you decide to become a pirate?” Querl asked, making another turn.

“Those are two completely different questions!” Kara exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Your question involves a whole backstory, which I’m sure you don’t want to hear. My question shouldn’t.”

“What if it does?” Querl pressed, “what if both our questions involve a deep answer that neither of us knows?”

Kara opened her mouth to answer but quickly closed it unsure what to say. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” she said eventually. “How about I’ll tell you the short version of mine and you do the same?”

Querl thought about it for a moment before nodding. Kara grinned and stretched her arms up before locking her hands together behind her head.

“My parents had my future planned, I wasn’t into it so I ran away,” she answered, with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “It took years to become what I am, but I’m happy and I’d probably do it again.”

“And your parents? They’re okay that you're one of the most wanted captains of the sea?”

Kara hummed and dropped her arms. “Not at first, but they saw how happy I was and let me be.

Though they did try to get my sister to follow me to make sure I was okay. She refused. It wasn’t until I became captain of my ship that she joined me.”

Querl nodded, with another question ready to be asked. But he stopped himself, they did promise to answer with a shorter version.

“I’m assuming you heard stories about my mother,” Querl started and kept his gaze forward, even when he could feel her eyes on him. When Kara hummed in acknowledgment, Querl continued. “I can assure you that most stories are true.”

Kara’s eyes widened in surprise. “I heard she’s ruthless in battle and around the castle. That she wants to gain control of the surrounding kingdoms.”

“Mm, that is correct,” he said, and Kara could hear a hint of sadness as he continued. “She believes the only way to rule is with an iron fist. I don’t believe her way of thinking. It’s cruel and everyone deserves a chance to be heard. As you can guess, we don’t get along. I try to do everything I can to stop her and she tries everything she can to stop me.”

“Why don’t you just run away?” Kara asked. Querl shrugged and turned another corner.

“I wouldn’t know where to go where she couldn’t find me,” he answered, “and even if I did, she would stop at nothing to bring me back home.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence, neither of them had anything to talk about. Well, there were plenty of things they could have said, but there was a silent agreement of no talking.

Eventually, they were nearing the end of their walk, given that they saw the light at the end.

“We’re almost there!” Kara shouted happily, almost hitting Querl’s arm. He smiled and they quickened their pace.

They had almost reached the entrance before they heard someone yell behind them. “There! They’re here!”

Kara turned around and saw the Queen and a handful of men at the end of the tunnel. She turned back to Querl and he could see the panic in her eyes.

Without thinking, Querl grasped her hand, and together they took off for the entrance. “Where’s your ship?” Querl asked, squinting as the sun hit their eyes. Blinking a few times, his eyes adjusted and he looked around.

Kara did as well and broke into a smile, glad that they had gotten her note on time. “There!” she shouted, pointing at the lone ship that was sailing away from the port.

“They’re sailing away?!” Querl exclaimed, starting to panic, Kara could tell. She squeezed his hand and smiled when he turned to look at her.

There’s an unspoken question of what now? And it prompts a twinkle in Kara’s eyes that both intrigued and scared Querl.

“We get creative!” she answered, before taking off towards the cliff. Hand still clasped in hers, Querl followed without a second thought.

“Get them!” the queen yelled, surprising the townspeople around the port. The guards took off running as the queen ignored everyone, and started towards Kara and Querl.

By the time the queen and the guards caught up to the two, they were standing at the edge of the cliff. Querl looked down unsure, whereas Kara was still grinning. “What now? Querl whispered, turning to look at her.

“There’s nowhere else to run,” the queen called before Kara had the chance to answer. “Turn around, you are under arrest.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara whispered. Before Querl had a chance to ask what she meant, Kara wrapped an arm around his waist and he felt a blade against his throat. He gulped but chose not to say anything. They slowly turned around and the guards drew their weapons but didn’t advance.

“Queen Fabala,” Kara greeted. Although she was smiling, it wasn’t a pleasant greeting. “I’d say it was an honour, but I’d be lying.”

Fabala hummed, her eyes were on Querl as she spoke. “What brings Kara Danvers to the Kingdom of Coly?”

“Captain,” she corrected and shrugged. “Just some shopping, nothing more.”

“Well regardless of why you are in town. You are still under arrest,” Fabala said, taking a step forward and stopped when Kara tightened her grip on her dagger. “You are, after all, a wanted criminal.”

“They don’t call me Captain Kara Danvers for nothing,” she said, taking a step back until her heel hit nothing but air. “But I’m afraid this is where I bid you goodbye.”

As quickly as she could, she whispered something to Querl and kissed him on the cheek before she jumped.

Surprised at the sudden loss of contact, Querl turned and looked down to see Kara swimming towards her ship. He heard the guards running up behind him and peered down.

“What do you have us do, Your Majesty?” the captain of the guard asked.

“Position some men around the ports and once they finish docking, have your men arrest them.”

“Your Majesty, Prince Querl,” he said, bowing before barking out orders as they left.

“Are you alright, Querl?” Fabala asked, checking him to see if he had any cuts or bruises.

“I’m fine, Mother,” he answered, though his attention was still on Kara. Still thinking about what she had whispered to him.

“Are you sure? She didn’t do anything to cause you harm?”

“No.”

“Well then,” she said, smoothing out her dress. She turned around and started walking. “Let us be off.” Querl stayed there as she continued walking. Noticing he wasn’t following she cleared her throat. “Come on Querl, let us go.”

Your life is yours Querl, do what you want to do, Kara’s words whispered into his ears.

So, he jumped.

----

Ao3

#karadox #kara danvers #querl dox #kara zor el #brainiac 5 #supergirl #supergirl fic #fanfic #my writing #pirate au

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quicksilversquared · 3 years

Text

Move to Safety: Chapter 4 (of 6)

After Adrien just happens to spy Nooroo in his father’s office, he’s sent into an panic. His father is Hawkmoth, which means that Adrien is in serious danger.

Thankfully the Dupain-Chengs are more than willing to step up to the plate and lend a helping hand.

links in the reblog

"Ooh, I like this one!"

Marinette laughed when she spotted the bolt that Adrien was holding up. He had gotten back to the house after the mural dedication, they had gotten a bite to eat, and then the two of them had headed out to the fabric store for a bit of a distraction. It hadn't taken long for the two of them to get neck-deep in fabric. "Kitty paws? Why am I not surprised?"

"It's Chat Noir fabric!" Adrien glanced at the label, unsurprised to see that the neon-green cat paws on a black background were, in fact, designed to invoke Chat Noir. Thankfully, there wasn't a corresponding price mark-up on it. "You said that you needed black, right?"

"I do, yeah." Marinette stepped closer, inspecting the fabric. There was a small frown on her face. "The only problem is that it's a pretty prominent pattern and it's usually a better idea to not have the background fabrics be quite so, uh..."

Adrien glanced at the pattern in her hand, then back at the fabric. He could see what she was saying. "Oh. Darn."

"We could use it as the backing fabric, though!" Marinette said quickly. Then she spotted something else in the rack of fabric bolts and grinned, ducking down and reaching way back to grab another bolt and wriggle it out. "Though here's another option that I suspect you might like."

She pulled out anther bolt, and oh, he should have suspected that there would be a Ladybug fabric as well. It had a black background like the Chat Noir one, with little ladybugs scattered across the fabric, small pink and red flecks between them.

...he really liked that one, too.

Adrien dithered between the two choices, honestly torn. He loved the thought of being wrapped up in his Lady's colors, but he also really, really liked the Chat Noir fabric. It was a nod to his role in protecting Paris, and once his father was defeated, it wouldn't be overly dangerous to have superhero references around him.

Not that it was super suspicious at the moment, really- after all, all of Paris loved the superheroes- but everything would be safer with their supervillains gone, and it wouldn't have been smart to do anything to make his father suspicious even if he hadn't been Hawkmoth.

"Actually, I could do large patchwork blocks of both of them on the back," Marinette said while Adrien was still deliberating. "Like a checkerboard."

Adrien perked up. "Ooh, yes, please!"

The front of the quilt was going to be mostly blues and greens and black, and Adrien had plenty of fun picking through the racks to find something that stuck out to him. Subtle patterns were better for not overwhelming the overall design, and he wanted this to be a quilt that he would be happy with for years to come. It took longer than he had anticipated to make his choices, though Marinette didn't seem at all surprised by that as she wheeled their cart to the cutting counter and took a ticket.

"We're not going to get any studying done today, are we?" Adrien asked with a laugh as they lingered near the counter, keeping one eye on the ticket number being served. "Or at least I'm not, what with the dedication this morning and then this now."

"We'll have some time this afternoon and then this evening!" Marinette protested with a little laugh. "And all of tomorrow. Maybe we should have waited on the fabric errand a bit, but I thought it would be relaxing."

"And better now than after, y'know, the arrest," Adrien said, dropping his voice to a murmur on his last couple words. "I probably won't be able to go out as myself unless I want to get mobbed."

Marinette stiffened. "If people dare go after you-"

"I was thinking reporters, mostly." It was inevitable, really. They would want to know if he had known, if he was surprised, what he would do now. "Hopefully I'll get cleared pretty early on."

"If the superheroes tell the police that it was Adrien who told them who Hawkmoth was, I think they wouldn't question you that much," Marinette murmured, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough that the other customers nearby wouldn't hear them. "You wouldn't tell on him if you were working with him, obviously, so if they knew that you were the whistleblower..."

Adrien nodded. That made sense, and while he didn't know if he necessarily wanted that to become public knowledge- there would probably be people who would scoff at him turning his father into the police and wonder if he had no loyalty if even family bonds meant nothing to him, never mind the whole supervillain angle- letting the police at least know would probably save him a world of trouble.

"I'm looking forward to not having to sneak in and out of your house," Adrien said instead of continuing that conversation. This wasn't the best place for it, anyway. "Especially the sneaking out. I hate having to climb over you in the mornings."

"You've been great at sneaking out," Marinette assured him quickly, flashing him a smile. "I haven't been woken up at all! Quiet as a cat."

Adrien laughed at that. "Thanks, I try. But it's more of a- it just feels creepy to climb over you when you're still asleep. Like, I'm going into your bedroom while you're asleep and climbing up to your bed and it's just- like, I know that we're comfortable with each other now, but..."

"I know that you're there, though. It's not like you don't have permission." Marinette bumped his side gently. "Honestly, it's fine. As long as you don't take any pictures of me drooling in my sleep, you're good."

"You don't drool," Adrien blurted before he could stop himself. "I mean, not that I look- I try not to, but I have to make sure that I don't step on you, so I guess I do kind of look- but you do sprawl out like a starfish when you sleep and it's cute and oh my god I'm going to stop talking now."

Marinette was giggling. "It's fine!"

"Stupid runaway mouth," Adrien grumbled, trying not to hunch his shoulders and hide behind Marinette when a couple women glanced over at them. "Sorry. I promise that I'm not trying to be a creep."

"Like I said, it's fine." Their number was called, and Marinette led the way to the cutting counter, placing the bolts of fabric that they had selected up on the counter and listing off how much she needed of each. "We could have tried to find a different window, I suppose, or- or something. I just thought that the balcony would look less weird."

Adrien decided to just nod at that point. He had an inkling that opening his mouth again would just result in more embarrassment on his end.

It didn't take long to get all of the fabric cut, and then Marinette took a quick detour through the quilting section to pick up batting, thread, and a couple other supplies before heading to the checkout. As the stuff was for the quilt was rung up, Adrien couldn't help but wince.

He had known that quilts took forever and a half to make, but he hadn't known how freaking expensive they were to make. Adrien opened his mouth to offer to pay for the materials, but a sharp look from Marinette had him closing his mouth just as quickly.

He would just have to get her some really, really nice presents for her birthday and Christmas, then.

...would it be excessive to compose Marinette a song on the piano to express his appreciation on top of whatever he bought for her? After all, she was going to be putting hours and hours into the quilt, and composing something on the piano... well, that was the closest that he was going to get to putting in a similar amount of effort.

"I can't wait to get into this fabric," Marinette said happily as they exited the store. Adrien had managed to snag the bulkiest of the bags to carry, figuring that that was probably as much as she would allow him to do. "I've only made a couple quilts before, mostly lap ones, and it was so much fun. And the pattern that you picked out looked really interesting, too."

"Ah-ah-ah, no sewing until exams are done," Adrien chided. He grinned. "See, I thought I remembered someone swearing that having the fabric in the house wouldn't be a distraction."

Marinette groaned. "I could do it as a study break! I've done that before, I just set up a timer so that I don't accidentally spend too much time sewing."

Adrien glanced over at her as they walked. "Is that really a good break, though? I've always been taught that I should get up and move around and maybe get a snack or something during study breaks so that I'm not still hunching over or focusing on anything. I'm just watching out for your health, Mari!" he added when Marinette groaned. "Seriously, let the quilt wait! Then you can go absolutely wild with it once exams are over."

Marinette dithered, then frowned. "Fine."

The bakery wasn't a super-far walk from the fabric store, so Adrien took the opportunity to enjoy the just-warm-enough weather, turning his face up to the sun to bask in the warmth. If his father were here, he would probably be scolding Adrien for not having put sunscreen on first so that there wouldn't be any chance of him getting any sort of sunburn.

Adrien pushed that thought out of his head. His father wasn't here, and he was going to be in jail soon enough that Adrien's complexion would no longer be any of his concern.

"Aha, I sense an incoming project," Mrs. Cheng commented as soon as the two of them reached the bakery and stepped inside. It was late enough in the day that the crowds had subsided, with only a few people milling around to pick out what they wanted. "New quilt?"

"Adrien insists that I wait to start it until after exams are over," Marinette told her mom in her best long-suffering voice. "Something about not distracting myself from studying and not being all hunched over fabric during study breaks."

"Aha, someone who has some sense," Mrs. Cheng said with a laugh, beaming at Adrien. "We've been trying to keep her from bouncing back and forth between studying and sewing for ages. You'll have to keep an eye on this one."

"Maman!" Marinette groaned, just as Adrien said, "I will."

"Oh, not you, too," Marinette complained. "I can self-regulate!"

Mrs. Cheng laughed. "Dear, we had to go out and buy creams for you to put on your back when it hurts too much from you hunching over. And then when you went to that chiropractor, she said that you need to work on straightening up and stretching on a regular basis when you're working on homework or sewing. I'm thinking that your self-regulation could use some work."

Marinette just groaned some more and headed for the door to the apartment. Adrien laughed and followed her, giving a cheery wave good-bye to Mrs. Cheng as he left. She beamed at him before turning back to her customers, greeting the next person in line cheerily.

"Not to pile on or anything, but right before exams doesn't seem like a great time to risk back problems flaring up," Adrien commented as he caught up to Marinette on the stairs. "Seriously, it can wait. Think of the quilt project as a reward that you'll get at the end of the week!"

Marinette flashed a smile back at him. "I know. It'll be something to look forward to. We... i mean, we'll probably want a distraction by then, too."

Adrien tilted his head to one side, momentarily puzzled, and then it hit him. Right. His father would be returning from his summer fashion preparations at the end of the week, coinciding with the end of their exam week. That was when he and Ladybug were planning on attacking his father- well, depending on when Mr. Agreste decided to send out an akuma, at least.

Funny that he had managed to forget about that when he and Ladybug had literally just been discussing it. Clearly the errand to the fabric store with Marinette had been a good distractor.

Honestly, the company had probably had a lot to do with it.

"Yeah, a distraction then sounds good," Adrien agreed, smiling back at her. "But for now, let's get the bags put away and get some studying done."

Exam week arrived too fast, just like it always did. Everyone- or almost everyone, at least, there were always some exceptions- was serious, hunched over books and notebooks or quizzing each other between classes.

Most years, Adrien would have spent most of his time out of school with a personal tutor hired to help him study, with a personally customized study plan based off of his strengths and weaknesses. This year, though, Adrien had managed to persuade Nathalie that it was unneeded, and that he had learned enough about study skills and how to figure out his weak areas that he didn't need a tutor this year. In fact, he had argued, having to create his own study plan could be beneficial. He would have to be more involved and that could mean that he remembered the lessons better.

Nathalie hadn't been entirely convinced, of course, but she had agreed to let him try it this one time. If his grades slipped from what they had been in the past, though, she had warned, he would be getting tutors for all future exams and there would be more summer tutoring than before.

It had been a pretty motivating threat, at least before Adrien discovered his father's secret and, by extension, Nathalie's. Now, unless Adrien decided that he actually wanted a tutor, there wouldn't be any more.

That was fine. There wouldn't be any more akuma attacks disrupting his classes, either, so Adrien figured that it would all even out. Besides, it had been easier to study when he was in Marinette's house, for some reason. Maybe it was because he wasn't antsy and on edge all of the time. They kept him busy and distracted when he wasn't studying, which kept Adrien from getting caught up in his own worries about what would happen once his father returned.

A couple times, Adrien had fallen asleep next to Marinette on her floor while studying. It had been comfortable and they had woken up in a tangle of limbs. It could have been a bit awkward, honestly, but somehow it wasn't. They were comfortable enough with each other now that it was just something that they did.

And then exams were over, and Mr. Agreste returned to the city. Adrien was half-convinced that his father would notice that something was off, but Mr. Agreste just made a brief appearance to inquire how Adrien's exams had gone, then retreated to his office to keep working.

Honestly, that was just the way Adrien liked it, particularly now that he knew his father's secret. The more distance between them, the better.

Nathalie dropped off Adrien's schedule for the start of summer, then headed out the door for her four days of vacation and general unwinding. Adrien watched her go, then immediately headed over to the Dupain-Cheng house to keep Marinette company and help her cut out the hundreds of pieces for his quilt.

And with that, the countdown was on. Ladybug had distributed the Horse to Seabiscut and the Bee to Hornet, and she had decided to use the Snake herself during their final battle. Adrien was rather relieved about that, honestly, since he was likely to be at little emotionally compromised during the battle and it was one less thing for him to have to remember to bring. His role was to-

Was to-

Well, to provide backup where needed. To join Ladybug to take down the final akuma, after Hawkmoth was defeated. To help keep the arrest under wraps, since Nathalie would still need to be captured and they didn't want to tip her off ahead of time, in case she was keeping her Miraculous on her.

It didn't sound like a whole lot, if he was being honest, but then again, the takedown was planned to be simple and straightforward. There wouldn't be a whole lot to do, not if things went to plan. And with the Snake in action, things should go to plan.

It didn't take long for Adrien's attention to wander while he watched Marinette pin and sew, so he headed downstairs to help out in the bakery. Mr. Dupain seemed to know without asking that Adrien needed a distraction, so he herded Adrien over to the sink to wash his hands, then started teaching him how to do different jobs. The croissant roller was easy enough to operate and hard to mess up, and of course it was hard to mess up loading the dishwashers. He didn't get to do any actual mixing of ingredients, because it would be too easy for him to mess up if he got distracted by his thoughts (or had to leave because of an akuma attack), but Mr. Dupain had promised that he would teach Adrien how to bake- abet in smaller batches first- once things were more settled.

Adrien was looking forward to it, though he couldn't deny that it was a bit intimidating. He hadn't done a ton of cooking- he helped with prep, sure, but not cooking by himself- and baking just seemed even more complicated. There were more things that could go wrong, Adrien was pretty sure, what with the yeast and rising and trying to bake all the way through and not overbaking and-

Well, it was a delicate process, that was for sure, and not something that Adrien wanted to be learning about when he was on edge waiting for an akuma attack.

Thankfully the wait wasn't too long. Two days after Mr. Agreste returned to Paris, an akuma alert lit up Adrien's phone. He muted it, suddenly feeling ill and regretting the sandwich that he had just eaten for lunch.

This was it. It was actually happening.

Adrien had spent the past week- longer, really- trying to ignore what Hawkmoth's defeat would entail. But that time was past now, and part of Adrien- the part that hated change, that didn't want to give up on the last bit of his family (his aunt and cousin, of course, not included)- wanted to put it off, even if the rest of him just wanted the whole Hawkmoth thing to be over with. There was a lot of mixed feelings there, and Adrien know how he was even supposed to start sorting them out.

Adrien's racing thoughts were promptly cut off by a tight hug.

"You'll be okay," Marinette promised, resting her head against his shoulder. "We're here for you no matter what." She looked up at him, her chin resting on his collarbone. "And we can do whatever you want when you get back. If you want distractions, we can do distractions. If you want to cuddle and watch a movie and drink hot chocolate, we can do that."

Adrien swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah." He hugged Marinette back, then pulled back, patting his pocket to make sure that his lucky charm from Marinette was still there. "Okay. I've got this."

"You do. And you have Ladybug and the rest of your team there for you, too." Marinette beamed at him. "You aren't alone."

"Okay." Somehow Marinette always knew just what to say. Adrien squared his shoulders, then flashed a smile- maybe a little weak around the edges, but still a smile- at her. "Plagg, transform me!"

With a flash of green, he was transformed. Chat Noir gave Marinette one more hug- for good luck, and to remind himself that he was still going to have a home and an amazing family even after his father was arrested- and then was off, heading for the abandoned building that Ladybug had picked out as their meeting point.

Soon it was all going to be over. He could only hope that he was actually ready.

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #Move to Safety

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Surrogate - Chapter 16

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1714

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 16

Natasha and Clint had both been attending birthing classes with you. It made sense really, they both planned to be there and this was their baby you were growing, even if you had started to think with the word ‘our’ more now. The classes were a little scary. Having to watch birthing videos made you worry there would be some kind of complication. It was one thing for your body to stretch to let out the little girl growing inside you, but if they had to do a cesarean then you were pretty sure she was going to get stuck. There was no way your body would allow itself to go unhealed long enough to cut her out of you.

Still, even though the classes were a little stress-inducing, it was nice to see Clint and Natasha respond to them. They each had their specialties and weaknesses and seeing them working together, it was easy to understand how they worked so well as a team. While they both were fine watching the birthing videos, Clint watched on like it was a horror movie and he was waiting for the Xenomorph to punch its way out of the mother’s chest. Natasha was much calmer about it, like seeing a baby passing out the birthing canal was just another standard day for her. Clint was terrible at helping you with breathing exercises, he just couldn’t take them seriously and if you followed along you’d be prone to hyperventilating. Whereas, Natasha was nothing if not calm and serious about them. On the other hand, Natasha struggled to change a diaper on a doll, whereas Clint could do it blindfolded and with one hand tied behind his back.

The classes were just held by the doctor who would be delivering your baby at the compound and a couple of the nurses too. Obstetrics wasn’t used a lot on-site, and while the doctor and one of the nurses were both experts, the rest of the staff were more versed at emergency patch-ups so they’d come along to brush up their knowledge before the big day. It was good to not have to worry about people treating you strangely because Natasha and Clint were celebrities or because there were three of you. Everyone at the compound was used to what the three of you had now.

As you left the class Clint was babbling about whether or not drugs would work for you for the pain. “I don’t see why the drugs wouldn’t work. I mean, my body would probably physically reject the needle if I got an epidural, but pethidine would be okay and they said they’d be me Nitrous Oxide if I want.”

“Can I use it?” Clint asked.

“No, you can’t, birdbrain,” Natasha teased. “Go get your illegal drugs elsewhere.”

“You can just squeeze Nat’s hand extra tight,” Clint said. “But not mine. I need them for my job.”

Natasha laughed. “And I don’t ever use my hands?”

“Not the way I do,” Clint argued.

You laughed and opened the door as you looked back at them. “You guys are such…”

“Surprise!!”

The shout of the group of people currently in the apartment made you jump and you spun around to see the room filled with people to almost breaking point. The place was decorated with pink streamers and matching pearlescent balloons. There was a banner along the wall that spelled out ‘Baby Shower’ in a gold script. Pink pieces of card cut into circles hung from various points of the ceiling with the words ‘Baby Shower’ repeated again and again in the same font. The dining table was laid out with fruit, finger sandwiches, dips, cheese, and crackers. At the center of it all, sitting on a raised cake stand was a round cake with pale pink frosting. A banner made out of sugar paste flags spelled out ‘BABY GIRL’ around the side and a sugar paste stork stood on the top holding a pink bundle.

The coffee table had been moved to the side and was stacked high with gifts, all wrapped in some combination of pink, white, silver, and gold.

At the front of the group was Kate Bishop and Wanda Maximoff stood holding out glasses of champagne with what looked like red flowers blooming in the bottom of the glass. “Happy baby shower, guys,” Kate said.

“You bad girls,” Natasha scolded, kissing each of them on the cheek and taking a glass. “I thought we were doing this in the function room.”

“Yeah, but a surprise is better,” Kate said. “Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re both lucky none of us were armed,” Clint said, taking a glass for himself. “I was ready to kick some ass.”

“Why do you think we chose immediately after your birthing class to do this?” Kate teased, handing a glass of champagne to Clint. “We know Doctor Harding doesn’t let you take weapons with you.”

“Here this one is for you,” Wanda said, handing you a glass. “Non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice. I know it’s not that exciting, but at least you can participate.”

“It’s lovely, thank you, Wanda,” you said. “What’s the flower at the bottom?”

“It’s a hibiscus,” she said. “Kate and I were looking up ideas, and it seemed nice and fitted with the theme.”

“Is the theme pink?” Natasha asked.

“I wanted to go purple,” Kate said. “But Wanda wouldn’t let me.”

“Damn it, Wanda,” Clint joked.

“It’s not just your baby, Clint,” Wanda huffed.

“Oh, Wanda,” Natasha soothed. “It’s lovely, you both did a great job.”

The three of you were practically dragged into the party and began to mingle. Kate and Wanda had done a great job with the guest list. All the Avengers were there, as were a lot of the other staff you, Clint, and Natasha were close to. There were also family and friends from your old life pre-avengers, though they looked very overwhelmed by the whole experience.

Unfortunately, the sheer number of people at the party meant the apartment was over capacity. There was barely any room to stand let alone sit. As you mingled shoulder to shoulder with your friends, you started to long for a comfortable seat.

There was a tapping of glass and you turned around to see Tony standing on the arm of a chair. “I think we all agree that surprising these three was a lot of fun, but this apartment is too small for this. So how about they open gifts and we all move it to the function room?”

There was a cheer and you, Nat, and Clint were shuffled to the couch where you were made to take a seat and open gifts.

There were a lot of gifts.

It wasn't long before you started losing track of everything among the cute little onesies and tiny shoes, the three-tiered cakes made of diapers and bottles, stuffed toys, rattles, teethers, and little wooden pull-toys. There were a few standouts. Kate had gotten a little onesie with a purple chevron that looked like the exact copy of the t-shirt Clint practically lived in. Carol brought an onesie that had I love my mommies and daddy on it with three big cartoon bunnies around a much smaller one. Tony, Pepper, and Morgan bought a stuffed giraffe that was so big his horns brushed the roof. Pepper made it clear it had nothing to do with her and all Tony and Morgan’s doing.

When all the gifts were unwrapped everyone started grabbing food and party games and carrying them over to the main building. It was amusing seeing the huge flock of people moving through the halls carrying plastic babies and plates of sandwiches.

When the group arrived it spread out like fluid, expanding to fit the function rooms’ much larger space. Food was laid out on the tables. Games were set up. People started helping themselves to drinks from the bar.

You grabbed yourself a drink and a selection of food and took a seat on the couch, putting your feet up.

“Is it wearing you out?” Steve Rogers asked, coming to sit beside you.

“Yeah, I’m always starting to wane by now, she’s really active in there,” you explained. “And with the birthing class as well.”

“Is she kicking now? Can I feel?” Steve asked.

“Sure,” you said, taking his hand and pressing it where she was currently kicking. It took a moment, but she soon shoved against his hand with what felt like all her might.

“Wow, she’s a strong one,” Steve said with a smile.

You chuckled. “Well look at who her parents are,” you agreed. “She’s going to be a fighter.”

“I guess she is,” Steve smiled. “It was very selfless of you to offer to do this for them. Especially given you must have had feelings for them when you did.”

“Well, the sparks, I guess,” you confirmed. “They were my best friends - are my best friends. This was their only chance to have kids, and you of all people should know what it feels like when there’s a good that can be done and it’s in your power to do it.”

Steve smiled affectionately at you. “I guess I do.”

“It’s moot now anyway, we’re all in it together,” you said.

“How do you feel about that?” Steve asked.

You smiled and nodded. “It’s a little scary. Didn’t exactly plan to be a parent. But I’m excited.”

“Well, good,” Steve said. “It’s not really conventional, and I’m not sure I totally get it, but I understand love, and Nat and Clint were never conventional. I think the three of you have got this.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said. “That’s always good to hear.”

“Attention everyone!” Kate called out, over the P.A. “I think it’s time to play some games, and I don’t know about you, but I’d like to see which of the three future parents can change a diaper the quickest. So get up here you three. Anyone else, if you’d like to challenge them, we have plenty of dolls and diapers, and there’s a prize.”

Steve chuckled. “Sounds like you’re up.”

You laughed and shook your head as you pulled yourself to your feet. Today was going to be a long and very strange day.

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clintasha #clintasha x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #hawkeye #black widow #hawkeye fanfic #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #the surrogate

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coffeecomicsgalore · 3 years

Text

Navigating the Chaos

Ao3

@adrinetteapril

Chapter 4: Best Friends

Marinette stood in front of her computer, waiting for the game screen to load completely. She could hear Chat stand behind her, completely unsure of what to do next.

“You can detransform, Adrien.” She muttered out without turning around. “My parents are already asleep.”

Marinette could hear Chat’s boot scuff against her floorboards, before uttering the words that would change him back to Adrien. Once the green glow vanished and she heard the nasally sound of a tiny god trail off, Marinette inhaled a deep breath before turning around and pursing her lips into a nervous smile. They stared at each other for a few moments.

“Hi.” She said, breaking the silence that started to overwhelm them.

“Hi.” Adrien said back, his voice slightly wavering.

“—I’m sorry—” Both quickly stated, before they each chuckled at their uncanny, in sync abilities.

“Why don’t we play?” Marinette offered him the gaming controller in hopes to ease themselves into the conversation. It was an olive branch in which Adrien happily took.

They sat down on her chairs, both coyly enamored by the screen. They played a round in silence, each looking towards the screen as they contemplated what to say next. Marinette was focused on her character when she heard Adrien clear his throat, but her eyes remained trained to the screen.

“I didn’t lie earlier,” Adrien began as he stared at the screen; his voice low, yet soft. Marinette stopped scrolling through the armor selection to hear what he had to say. “I’m happy that it’s you.”

She turned to face him, giving Adrien her undivided attention. “Me too.” Marinette cracked a small smile which caused Adrien to do the same. “It’s funny. I’ve always surrounded myself with my friends when it came to choosing temporary wielders. Guess I didn’t stray too far from that concept since one of my best friends has been by my side the entire time.”

Adrien ran his hand behind his neck, feeling both flustered and happy at the same time. “Yeah, guess our friendship was always meant to be, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Marinette trailed off and looked to the side, a sad smile etched in her lips. “W-why did you run this morning?”

Adrien looked to the side, feeling slightly ashamed. “I was nervous. Seeing you as Ladybug is one thing. Seeing you as Marinette is another. But knowing you two are the same, really messed with my head. Not that it’s a bad thing! Just that… when you had to go after the fight, it gave me time to think about it. The adrenaline of the fight wore off and I was so excited to see you, but then I realized I didn’t know how to act now that I know, and I… kind of freaked out.”

Marinette let out a relieved sigh, feeling better about why he ran off.

“I’m glad you told me, minou. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I was worried that you were disappointed and couldn’t face me anymore.”

The horrified look on Adrien’s face said it all. “No way, Marinette! You are absolutely amazing and I’m so glad that we go so much closer over the last month. I can’t even tell you how amazing you are. You just are!”

Marinette shook her head and laughed, enjoying the look of complete awe on Adrien’s face. “Tikki already told me the same thing. But don’t go ahead and think that I’m the only amazing one here! You are too, you know. You don’t give yourself enough credit with how incredible you are. I couldn’t be Ladybug without you, and quite frankly, I don’t want another Chat Noir, ever, to take his place.”

“So… are we okay?”

“Of course,” she replied, relieved. “Are we okay?”

“Definitely.” Adrien smiled back, finally feeling relieved that they could move past this. “So… what are we supposed to do next?”

Marinette furrowed her brow as she thought it over. “Well, we have to keep our dynamic the same. That much is obvious. Friendship between Adrien and Marinette; partnership between Ladybug and Chat Noir. I don’t see why that has to change now that we revealed our identities.”

Marinette looked towards the ceiling as she itched her cheek, missing the sad look on Adrien’s face. When she turned towards him, he hid his frown, giving her a grin in its place.

“Oh, I, uh… guess we can discuss more about patrols, plans, and everything else?” She shrugged her shoulders, looking towards their two sleeping kwamis that had cuddled together on Tikki’s makeshift bed of scraps. “I mean, it would be nice to talk to someone about this without having to keep it all hush hush. I’m tired of the secrets.”

Adrien nodded his head in contemplation. “Yeah, I could help relieve some of the stress you’re shouldering too. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I will.” Marinette scrunched up her face in thought. Adrien tilted his head and nudged her shoulder to get her to say what was on her mind. When she looked away, he placed his hand on hers.

“You don’t have to be afraid to do this alone, Marinette. I’m here. We’re friends and partners. Lean on me so that I can help you.”

Marinette’s eyes turned towards him and she let out an exasperated groan. “Fine. I’ve been hiding the fact that we can’t use our temporary holders, even though I said we could, and have been figuring out which one of us could wield which extra miraculous if it’s needed.”

“Bug…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just… I just don’t want to hurt our friends. They’ve all been akumatized, each one more than once, and I just don’t want to put them in danger just like what happened during the Miracle Queen incident. They were all so good too. I hate that I can’t use them again—Alya, Nino, Max, Luka, Kagami, Kim… I just wish there was another way.”

“We could use others?” Adrien tried to encourage her with an option, but he frowned when she shook her head.

“I don’t want to risk anyone else.”

“But you’re willing to make yourself sick being overwhelmed than asking for new wielders?”

“I’m not making myself—”

“You fell asleep in the middle of class the other day, even after I visited you as Chat and helped you with your homework the night before.” Marinette tried to make herself smaller under his apprehensive gaze, and he continued when he made his point. “Let me guess… guardian work.”

“… yeah.”

“Alright then.” Adrien clapped when he thought of something that could help her. “I’ll come by every couple of days to go over superhero stuff. I rather do it here; plus, you have amazing pastries to keep us motivated—and I don’t want you fretting over any duties unless I’m around. We can make sure we dedicate this time to ‘Sunshine and Clumsy Girl Takes on Hawkbutt’,” Adrien punctuated the phrase with his arm stretched out in front of him, opening and closing his fist at each word.

Marinette to glare at him and he shrugged his shoulders as he continued. “And on top of that, you can teach me all the miraculous and how things work so I can be better equipped to help you.”

Marinette stared as Adrien reached over and grabbed a macaron, biting into it like he didn’t just solve a few of the many weights holding her down. She continued to think as he thought over her words, and she looked back over to her kwamis as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

“Okay.” She stated slowly, continuing to stare at Plagg and Tikki.

“Okay?” Adrien said, his voice hopeful.

“Okay. I won’t handle any duties without you present unless absolutely necessary. We work on things together, and I show you the works.” Adrien beamed and started to go through his character, hoping that Marinette would follow suit. “I said I can’t do this without you. I truly mean that.”

“Good.” Adrien smiled, reaching his closed fist towards her in their usual post-battle finish. Pound it?”

Marinette smiled as she reached her fist over, pressing her knuckles against his. “Pound it.”

#adrinetteapril2021 #adrinette #adrienette

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takadanobaba · 3 years

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Jin Norizuki’s Birthday PriZoom 7/18/2021

Oh the things I do for Jin Norizuki

That was SUCH an experience. I had a lot of fun!!

Main takeaway is that I am now acutely aware of when to YO in a song

(Okay so this is my first time attending a prizoom (or even any kinpri screening outside of Luna’s sss rabbit sessions!) so this is all entirely new to me and I can’t really compare it to much, but I figured that it’d be good to write up a report of sorts to fill in for Luna in a way!)

The prizooms are also accessible to everyone and don’t require any Japanese info confirmation!! If you’re interested in attending please go and support kinpri!!!

(Note: I think about Jin wayyyy too much and interpret them as nonbinary, so I use they/them pronouns for Jin. It’s just automatic for me at this point and feels weird otherwise haha so I’ll be doing that in this)

Jin is my all time favorite character and love of my life who I’m extremely delusional about so when a prizoom was announced for their birthday I went INSANE because I didn’t expect Jin’s birthday to be acknowledged AT ALL given how they’re usually excluded/treated like a side character (+ kinpri’s been putting out little to no content lately anyways....haha....). I was waiting in anticipation ever since it was announced (around June 6th) and even put in a time-off request for my work the day of its announcement just so I could attend!!!! ........ You can imagine my frustration at kinpri waiting until the very last minute to put out details about Jin’s prizoom ^^;

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙

Also!! I’m a complete ~ foreigner ~ and managed to get tickets perfectly fine with my American credit card (and putting in some very obviously Not-An-Actual-Resident-Of-Japan address info...)! So if anyone’s curious about attending a prizoom but worried about region-locking, it’s possible! Very possible! If you’re interested in it, please go! You don’t need to have a Japanese phone number/credit card/address/etc. to purchase PriZoom tickets on RakutenTicket! It’s such an experience! If you need any help buying tickets then I’d be more than happy to assist!! Please support the PriZoom screenings and help increase the demand for more kinpri content!!!!!!!!!!!! I will personally become a living prizoom advertisement

(Also if any kinpri staff find this: I’m sorry for not respecting rules this time but I just wanted to provide a detailed account of the prizoom event and encourage participation for other foreign fans! I won’t do this again!!!)

💙 💙 💙 💙 �� 💙

I only attended the first and third showings (consisting of the first movie and Over the Sunshine!) because I wanted to see the new/not currently archived content (the second/pride the hero showing’s bonus was just Jin’s birthday video by Joji which I already revisit little too much ahaha). I also went to the chat-only rooms because I wasn’t very confident that I wouldn’t be awkward with my nonexistent cheering experience and intent to just observe what its like (despite knowing that the cheering rooms are more fun based on what Luna said haha). That, and I was planning on using the EXTREMELY OBNOXIOUS soundboard of ABSOLUTE CHAOS for everything since I have issues with voice dysphoria and figured it’d be good to stick to the room with that normalized as the one and only cheering method so participating would be a little less annoying to others, since we’d all have the same idea ^^;

I’m more active on twitter and follow/am mutuals with pretty much anybody who likes Jin enough to post about them, so it was cool seeing almost everyone there! At least half of them tweeted about this being their first prizoom haha. Jin’s birthday was also promoted as a good introduction to prizooms since the first showing was set at a price point of 718 yen instead of the usual 1,760 yen? So, lots of first timers attending! I guess most people had the same thought process as me about the whole insecure-about-not-being-used-to-proper-cheering/using-their-mic thing? Because most of my twitter following ended up in the chat-only rooms with me! Fun!

Also interesting how most people chose the male voice option for the cheering soundboard feature since there’s actually only 2 men who love Jin like that (I’m included in that number!!) in the Jin-obsessed twitter circle. I guess it was because it sounds kinda Joji-ish? and therefore fitting for an event dedicated to Jin! What with them being meant for each other and all.... Plus being Joji is just a fun way to play off having issues about using your own voice (I... project onto Joji a lot.)

👆 👆 👆

Okay I actually typed up all of the above during the second showing (since I wasn’t occupied attending that one) and everyone had the same train of thought and was definitely being Joji. You know that one “song” in Over the Sunshine- Glorious Schwarz- consisting of Joji just going wild infodumping for 3.5 minutes? Yeah EVERYONE who selected the male voice option was spamming 「おれもー！」/ “ME TOO!!!” during that (including me!). So it was like:

“I weighed 4646 grams at birth! ☆”

“MMMMEMEEMEMMT MEE ME MEEE EMME ME ME TOO M M ME TOO”

SO OBNOXIOUS. I LOVE IT. EVERYONE SHARING THE SAME BRAINCELL. THE JOJI BRAINCELL.

💙

The highlight of the prizoom (in my opinion) was when some guy repeatedly hit よっ！/ YO! to the music in the first movie, which then led to everyone having a collective ~ Realization ~

After that happened, everybody joined in and started YO!-ing along in the other lives. Beautiful.

(Blurred recording of Dramatic Love and Showcase Night just so YO!u can see what I mean.)

(I only did those two to test screen recording after failing to archive the first Jin bonus while using the soundboard feature in the first showing, initially I didn’t intend to record anything but the bonuses and will not be doing that anymore. If you attend, don’t be like me or worse!!!! Please!! I’ll delete these if needed/after a few weeks. Also just wanted to mention that Koi no Royal Straight Flush is up there in Kinpri’s Most YO!-able songs)

I love this soundboard feature. Sounds like hell. Prizooms are truely a new form of art because of it. Amazing how cheering screenings have evolved over a pandemic. Music feels empty to me without the YO!s now. After this I ended up listening to the entire kinpri discography so I could determine the YO!ability of each song. Not sure if every prizoom is like that? But I really want to go to more showings just for the community experience! I’m morbidly curious as to how many people would try to YO! to Platonic Sword. I considered going to Rei’s because they’re showing Shiny Rose Stars, but I probably won’t though since money and sleep are things (They really should make tickets no more than 1,000 yen.... they’re zoom meetings with audio problems....THE AUDIO ISSUES ARE FUN THOUGH! YOU CAN SPAM “GANBATTE” WITH EVERYONE!!) Plus while I do like every kinpri character, none of the street boys are really my favorites and going to every showing regardless of character would be a lot. I assumed that I was only going to try attending Joji’s until they announced that they were gonna do something for Jin!! So if you want to see what it’s like PLEASE get tickets and experience it for yourself!! It’s so much more fun participating !!!! Relying on 1-2 people to post event summaries isn’t exactly consistent coverage of every prizoom either!

\ よっ！/ \ よっ！/ \ よっ！/

So much of this is a community experience that you just have to see for yourself! It’s really cool seeing people go all out for their favorites and just going wild. Notable participants include:

- Two separate people just working out the entire time (one of them doing “Prism Exercise” meaning very high effort full-body cheering and dancing? It was really impressive seeing them go all-out for such a long time!)

- Two (2!) Ai cosplayers!!! One attending the prizoom with a Jin cosplayer!!

- The lady who cosplayed Jin in their cute green pre-retirement prism star outfit WITH A HUGE JIN PUPPET IN THE SAME STYLE AS THE SHUFFLE PUPPETS IN THE STAGEPLAY!!!

- That one person who just had a Minato fish head on the entire time (?!)

- A Victoria cosplayer who showed off a really nice!! drawing of Jin they did during the participant showcase at the end of the screenings

- The person with a REALLY CUTE!!!!! homemade Jin plushie!!

- Two people who attended with 3D/vtuber style models of the Go Go Glorious! (YMT29 subunit) members: Noel Tokyo and Mikado Shibuya (who also had a model of Ai!)

- A really cute Joji vtuber model!

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙

The bonuses were Jin’s birthday video from 2016 and a birthday message of sorts from Jin!

I actually didn’t manage to properly archive the first one as intended because things went horribly wrong so I ended up with nothing but just a terrible (said affectionately) little recording of the soundboard I linked earlier. But whatever I shouldn’t be doing that anyways. Hopefully kinpri includes that and the other prizoom bonuses in something later.... the thought of any content being stuck as lost media terrifies me. I don’t have a good enough memory or a high enough Japanese proficiency level to type it out but it wasn’t particularly analyzable or anything (telling that to myself to make me feel better about losing it). Just the usual Jin being dramatic and going on an evil monologue. Jin being evil ASMR. I lovingly burned another one of Jin’s evil laughs into my mind too so there’s that.

For the 3rd showing bonus however I did not fail though it’s arguably the less interesting bonus of the two since it’s unvoiced. I really love Jin’s voice. Big sexy. Actual dialogue is pretty similar to each other from what I’ve gathered (ending with one of Jin’s cute little アーーーッハッハッハッ！！！！！’s (the text effect for the unvoiced bonus was an appreciated detail!).

(I’m not very confident in my ability to provide a good translation so I’ll just not embarrass myself)

“ AAAaAAaHAHAAHAAa ~ ! ! ! ! ! ! ! “

💙

Yes Jin I’ll support you in the future-!!! ヾ(>▽ <、 )

I’ll never not be obsessed but it’d still be nice to have more substantial content to gush about and do that with.... Kinpri come back and release an anime continuation.... give me the Jin plot development....kinpri come back my happiness is a little too reliant on you

After the showings you get an email asking for feedback which is cool! I’ve been waiting to complain about how 法月 is written as Noriduki instead of Norizuki for the longest time but I never had a chance until now haha. Makes it so painful for me to buy Jin merch. Also begged for an anime continuation. I wonder how much they take into account feedback? I guess I’ll see when/if they start writing Jin’s name how it’s supposed to be.

ANYWAYS

IF YOU WANT TO GO TO A PRIZOOM, DO IT!

Prism shows really are best experienced with a community!!! If you like kinpri it’s a GREAT OPPORTUNITY to experience what a cheering screening is like with the Japanese fanbase from the comfort of your very own home which is most likely nowhere near Japan!! Everyone should experience prism shows!!!! I have no regrets and I’m still so hyped from the prism sparkle!!!

ANYBODY CAN ATTEND AND BUY TICKETS EVEN WITHOUT JAPANESE INFORMATION!!!

\\ GLORIOUS SCHWARZ! //

#king of prism #jin norizuki #Err try not to spread around my recordings too much #Dont want the staff thinking badly of foreigners and region locking things haha #Kinpri_pr didn't even blur out their recording of the prizooms like me and they record everything for promo purposes anyways #But I'll probably remove mine after a bit anyways #me and my very concerning crush on jin #using joji as a self insert

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leafs-lover · 4 years

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Because Two People Got Drunk: 17

Summary: You see Connor for the first time since New Year’s. You attend the Penguins charity gala as Fred’s date.

Warnings: Smut, light daddy kink, swearing, oral sex

Word Count: 5600

Series Masterlist

Chapter 17

“What are you doing Ollie? You playing with your truck?” Fred asks over Facetime. He is on a road trip and is calling Oliver before he goes to bed. He calls Oliver every night he doesn’t have a game to catch up, sometimes reading him a story. You set your tablet up on the coffee table so Fred can see Oliver without you having to hold it the entire time.

After you put him to bed, you and Fred continue to chat for a bit. You haven’t discussed what happened over the holidays, or the confusing feelings you have been having. You don’t know if Fred feels the same way as you, or if everything is in your head. He has been on a long road trip so you haven’t seen him much to have the conversation in person since New Year’s.

You know that Connor’s flight was delayed due to weather in Minnesota, which is why he cancelled on New Year’s. You still don’t understand why he waited so long in the day to tell you about it. You have talked a little bit, but you haven’t been able to see him. But you aren’t too sure about the status of your relationship, or how you want to proceed with him

“(Y/N)?” Fred calls, you realize you zoned out and he was trying to get your attention.

“Hmm, sorry I zoned out for a bit” you explain shifting your gaze back to the screen.

“Yeah I noticed, got something on your mind?”

“No, just got distracted looking out at the snow” you lie. “What did you ask?”

“Next Wednesday, the 18th, the team has the annual charity event; the Night of Assists Gala. I was wondering if you would be my date?”

“Yeah” a large smile crosses your face “of course I will! What kind of dress do I need?”

“It’s black tie. I’m back in town Friday; maybe we can go shopping for something?”

“Sure, but new dresses come with new shoes” you exclaim.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less” he laughs.

You open the door Friday morning and Fred is standing there two coffees in hand. “Morning” you sing grabbing a coffee from him kissing his cheek. Your face immediately goes red as you head Oliver running to the door squealing “dadda.” Fred moves away from you and scoops him up in a big hug. You use that as an opportunity to back away while Fred has talks to Oliver, he is babbling away barely forming a sentence. Why did I kiss him, what was I thinking?

You walk into the kitchen, with your coffee and stand with your back facing the doorway; you hear Fred’s footsteps enter the kitchen. “How have you been (Y/N)?” he asks sitting down at your island.

You turn around and see Oliver is clinging to him; Fred is bouncing him slightly in his arm. Seeing the two of them side by side you really notice the similarities, even if Oliver had a different hair and eye colour, his bone structure and smile is the same as his fathers.

You still feel your face is slightly red and you bring your cup to your mouth taking a sip, but also trying to hide the colour. “We were good, he had a few rough patches with his teething” you start explaining.

Fred turns to Oliver “oh buddy” he says kissing his head. “Other than that everything was good?”

“Honestly no” you huff and Fred turns his attention back to you. “It was mayhem. Him teething meant he didn’t sleep well, which meant I didn’t sleep well. I ended up getting run down for a couple days.”

“Oh I’m sorry, you feeling better now?” he asks.

“Yeah but there is toys everywhere, and I’m so behind in laundry” you start rambling. You don’t even notice Fred has stood up until you feel his arm wrap around you.

“(Y/N/N) your fine. There is like 4 toys out.” He’s lying, there are easily half of Oliver’s toys scattered around the living room. “And seeing toys on the living room floor only shows me that you have a kid. But I am sorry you were alone through all this, you should have told me.”

You sigh wrapping your arm around him “I know but it wouldn’t have changed anything, you were on a road trip.”

“It still is nice to talk to someone about these things. Even if I can’t help physically, it can help to let your problems out.” Fred says as your arm tightens, as you grip his shirt in your hand. You place your head on his chest, and listen to his heartbeat through his shirt. He is right, but for some reason you weren’t sure if you should tell him, or what that would do. You don’t exactly understand your dynamic and don’t want to complicate this further.

“I know, I’m sorry” you whisper into his chest.

“You’re not alone elskede, you have me. No matter what” he says kissing your head. “I know what will make you feel better though (Y/N/N).”

You look up at him “what?” you ask. You see the bags under his eyes, indicating he didn’t sleep much on the plane but chose to come over early to spend time with both of you.

“Going shopping” he says causing you to laugh.

You walk into a local dress shop, you see rack of colourful dresses, and everything is designer. Oliver is asleep in his stroller, a blanket tightly around him while you and Fred start scanning the selection. Fred pulls out pink dress with puffy sleeves; the skirt is full of feathers. He raises an eyebrow at you and you burst out laughing “that looks like the baby of big bird and little bow peep.”

A half hour later you have picked out about 8 options. You start try the options, both of you not loving them. Each of them is missing something. You’ve been at the store so long Oliver has woken up and is beginning to fuss for lunch.

“One more and then we have to leave and feed this guy” you say. You are standing in a black strapped dress, you thought it would look amazing, but once you tried it on, it didn’t hang off your body right. It doesn’t have a good shape, and looks like a box on you.

“Well make sure it’s amazing then” he replies shooting you a smile while bouncing Oliver on his hip.

You return to the change room and try on the last dress; you purposely saved this one for last. You exit the change room in a navy blue satin backless floor length gown; the front has a deep cut. When you first emerge from the room Fred is staring at Oliver, he hears your footsteps and looks up at you with his brown eyes, his jaw instantly drops.

“Wow, mommy looks pretty eh bud, really, really pretty” he whispers in your sons ear. He walks over to you “way to save the best for last” he says putting an arm around you, kissing your temple.

“Thought you’d like this one” you chuckle. His free hand comes around to the small of your back sending a tingle down to you core. You stare up at him you see the lust in his eyes.

“How could I not? You look incredible” he places a kiss on your cheek. You turn your head slightly and look to him, your eyes locking. You feel yourself slowly moving in to him, closing the gap. Before your lips connect Oliver begins to cry, causing you to separate “go get changed and I’ll pay” he says.

You step out of the store and Fred leads you down the street to a local restaurant. As you sit down, Fred heads to the bathroom. You are getting Oliver set up in a highchair when you hear your name behind you.

You turn around “Connor” you say. He is standing there with a takeout bag in hand; wearing dark jeans with a button down shirt under his jacket. You can see his brown hair poking out from under his toque.

You walk over and hug him “hi, how are you?” you ask.

“Good, this the little man?” he asks looking over at Oliver.

“Yeah that’s him” you say.

“He’s cute” Connor says waving at him.

“Yeah I think so too” you chuckle “although I could be biased.”

“Nonsense. He’s a cutie, not surprising though considering who his mom is.” A blush comes across your face, before he continues “I’m really sorry about New Years. There was a crazy storm earlier in the day and my original flight was cancelled. I was changed to the next flight, but then that one was cancelled last minute too. I feel terrible for leaving you high and dry so late in the night.”

“Don’t worry about it, you can’t control the weather” you reply smiling. “I ended up with some last minute plans, and it ended up being pretty good.”

“That’s good” he says. “What did you get up to?” You stare at him trying to come up with a response and don’t even notice that Fred has returned from the bathroom and is beside you until you feel his left hand on the small of you back.

“Hey” he says, you all stand there for a second.

“This is Fred” you say realizing they are both waiting on an introduction. Fred holds out his right hand, Connor shakes it saying “Connor. Nice to meet you.”

After pulling his hand back he says “I should get going, nice to meet you” he says to Fred. He turns his gaze to you “(Y/N) we should grab dinner sometime soon.”

“Yeah for sure” you say before Connor walks away.

Fred raises an eyebrow at you while you move to the table to sit down “so that’s boy toy?”

You laugh at that while Fred sits beside you “he literally just told you his name.”

Fred scoffs lightly at that. “I see why you haven’t slept with him yet” he says.

“What do you mean? There is nothing wrong with him.”

Fred grins “there is one thing.” You quirk your head at him “oh and what’s that?”

“He isn’t the one sitting here with you today” he whispers in your ear.

You sit there for a minute processing what he said. Out of the corner of your eye you see a large grin on his face; he brings a hand up to your chin. He tilts your face to look at his, and you search his face for answers, his hand lightly slides up from your chin and cups your cheek. He hesitantly looks into your eyes before leaning in, bringing his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

January 18, 2023

Tonight is the charity event; you are at Fred’s getting ready. You put on the dress, and have your hair loosely curled, as you spray a little perfume on you. You just need your shoes, opting to wear the shoes Fred bought you for your birthday. They are in your bag, which is in Fred’s room.

You walk out of the bathroom and lean on the door frame between to the bedroom staring at Fred. He is in his navy 3 piece suit, has a skinny tie under his vest and is putting his cufflinks on, you sigh taking him in causing him to look up.

“Christ you look amazing” he says a smile coming across your face as you walk over to him.

You run a finger over his jacket “you don’t look too bad yourself Mr. Andersen.” You reach down and grab the cufflinks and help him put them on before reaching up to straighten his tie.

“I am nothing compared to you” he says kissing you on the corner of your lips. “You’re missing something though” he whispers in your ear. He walks away to the closet and comes back a moment later with a beige shoebox.

“I didn’t get a chance to wrap them” he says handing it to you, you immediately see the large white signature on the outside and recognize the brand.

“You didn’t have to get me these, I was going to wear the shoes you bought me for my birthday” you explain.

“Oliver bought you those” he replies smiling. “These are from me.”

You laugh at him and roll your eyes before opening the box; you first see the bright red inside lining to the box. Your eyes are next drawn to the shoes, a new pair of white Louboutin. They have a 3 inch heel, with a slender strap and a pointed toe. It has an elegant bow with a signature red bottom.

“They are beautiful” you say sliding them on. They look stunning and complete the look perfectly.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you” he says before placing a kiss lightly on your lips. He moves to deepen the kiss but you pull away. “You’re going to smudge my lip gloss” you explain bringing your hand up to wipe some off his lips; Fred rolls his eyes at you. “Besides you don’t want to start something you can’t finish” you say smirking.

“When have I never finished?” he asks while you laugh walking out of the room.

You walk in to the event hand in hand, and head over to the table. The dinner is being served, so you are sitting in your seats enjoying time together before Fred gets pulled away into conversations with donors. Kathy has been giving you questioning glances from across the table. You are done the second course, waiting for desert to be served; Fred’s large hand is lightly resting on your thigh. His thigh remains there throughout the remainder of dinner. Throughout dinner you randomly feel Fred give your thigh a light squeeze, or he will whisper in your ear. Everything he is doing is intoxicating to you, and all you want to do is take him into a locked closet.

A little while later the boys are off in conversations with some of the donors, you and some of the wags are sitting around a table chatting. You feel hands graze your shoulder; you look up to see Fred in his form fitted three piece suit. Your breath catches in your throat, he leans down and holds his hand out, his mouth grazes your ear “dance with me” you grab his hand and are led to the dancefloor.

He places one hand on the small of your back, as you place one on his shoulder. He holds you tight as he leads you around the dancefloor, you breathing in his cologne. “I don’t know if I told you this yet, but you look stunning tonight.”

You laugh lightly “you might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well you are absolutely breathtaking. I can’t keep my eyes off you” he says, his lips kissing the side of your temple. You tilt your head to look at his brown eyes; you both stare at each other for a little while as you spin around the dance floor.

He slowly brings his face to yours, closing the gap between you. He lightly kisses you on the lips, your hand slides from his shoulder to the back of his neck. Fred leans in slightly further, deepening the kiss, his hand slides slightly lower resting just above your ass. You moan into the kiss, feeling a fire ignite in your core as your tongue dances in his mouth.

“Did I tell you how amazing you look tonight?” you ask pulling back slightly.

“You’ve seen me in a suit before; pretty sure you’ve seen me in this suit. I don’t get to see you like this often. I very much like this dress” he says spinning you. He pulls you in closer to himself this time and you feel his erection pressed up against your stomach “I’ve been like this since I saw 4 hours ago.”

“Fuck” you mumble causing Fred to laugh. “I will never tire of seeing you in a suit” you say lightly as his hand slides lower to just above your ass. You gulp “how much longer do we uh” you trail off as he starts placing light kisses behind your ear “have to stay?” His hand is now fully placed on your ass as he chuckles lightly “just a little bit longer” he whispers. Kathy is smirking at you from across the floor as she dances with Sidney. Your hand tangles into his hair as you lock him in a passionate kiss; Fred pulls back and whispers “don’t start something you can’t finish” he grins as he uses your words against you. You laugh and place your head on his chest and dance until the song finishes.

Shortly after Fred and some other players gets pulled on stage for a team event. You and Kathy are standing at the bar waiting for a drink “so how long has this been going on? When did you guys get together?” she asks.

“Honestly I don’t know if we are together. We haven’t talked about it. I still stay at my place a lot of the time. We sometimes hook up but we haven’t discussed what we are doing. I don’t know if this is still just sex, or what he is feeling. It’s all complicated and confusing.”

“You can’t honestly think this is just sex? You have to see how he looks at you.” She pauses for a second giving you a chance to reply, when you don’t she continues “has this ever been just sex with you?” she asks.

“I don’t know it’s all been confusing” you sigh. “He was dating Danielle and I was with Connor, and…” “And you guys were hooking up then.” she cuts you off. You stare at her for a bit “Besides him and Danielle were over a while ago, I don’t even know if they ever were really together. Are you still seeing him, Connor?”

“I don’t know. He bailed on me for New Years; then I saw him last week when the three of us were out for lunch. He said he wanted to meet up for dinner sometime soon but I haven’t talked to him since.”

“Do you want to keep seeing him?”

“Honestly” you pause and take a breath “no I don’t think so.”

“And why is that?” she asks.

“Yeah why is that?” you hear as a body presses up behind you, arm resting on the bar. You immediately recognize the cologne, your cheeks burn up “uhh” you sputter “I have to pee” you claim. You move to walk away but Fred turns you into his chest, he grins seeing the blush on your face. He kisses your cheek before whispering in your ear “I like it when you’re flustered. Want to get out of here?” You see the lust in his eyes and smile before leaning in to kiss him lightly. You nod before you make your way to get your coats.

“You have fun tonight?” he asks while sitting at a red light.

You look over at him with a smile “yeah, I really did. You?”

“Yeah. I plan on having more fun once I get you home” he says looking at you from the corner of his eye. You feel our core heat up as you shift slightly in your seat. Fred chuckles pleased with how his words are affecting you.

Instead of answering you bring your hand onto his thigh and shift it up his leg, smirking. Your pinky lightly grazes over his member, feeling his still hardened bulge underneath his dress pants.

You grin at him slightly, before palming over him a few times. You see him take a couple deep breaths before he brings a hand from the steering wheel to yours, clamping it around your wrist. He puts your hand back on your lap and returns his to the steering wheel. This doesn’t stop you, instead it encourages you. You bring your hand back over to him, directly to his bulge as you palm him. You get in a couple rubs before he grabs your wrist and returns it to your lap. He lightly taps it a few times, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.

You smile and bite your bottom lip. You sit there for a few minutes as Fred continues to drive, holding your hands in your lap. Fred eventually relaxes while driving; he pulls up to a red light and returns his right hand to the steering wheel. He drives for a few minutes before you slide your hand back to his thigh. You start palming his bulge, grinning at him as you hear him mutter a light “fuck.”

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the road, but you see him catching glances from the corner of his eye. Your hand moves up to his belt to undo it and the button on his pants. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles going white. You palm over his pants, and see him strain, his Adam’s apple gulps.

You slip your hand in, over his boxers and palm over him feeling his erection straining in his boxers. You turn in your seat your back now against the door, you continue rubbing him, and you slide your hand up his chest under his shirt. You feel the grooves of his abs and a few beads of sweat that have dripped down him. You slide your hand down toying with the elastic of his boxers “Fuck (Y/N/N)” he mumbles.

He shifts in his seat taking clearing his throat as your hand slips inside his boxers. You slowly slide your hand to his shaft and begin stroking him, using your thumb to spread the pre-cum. You begin to push his pants and boxers down, attempting to free him and provide you more access.

He reaches down and grabs your wrist “you need to behave” he growls bringing your hand to your lap. He keeps a tight grip on your wrist and doesn’t release it until the car is parked in the garage. When he gets out of the car Fred fixes his suit and leads you to the elevator, his hand resting on the small of your back.

The elevator closes and Fred pins you against the wall, spreading your legs with his knee. He grips your hair and pulls it back exposing your neck; his mouth attaches sucking a mark. “You were bad in the car” he says “such a fucking brat.”

“What are you going to do about it?” you groan.

“So many things” he spits out biting your neck “so many things.” The elevator dings and he steps out. You enter his place you walk to his bedroom while Fred says goodbye to Christie the nanny. You go into his bedroom closet and remove your dress hanging it up in the closet. You reach into your bag and put on your black lace garter set and put your silk robe overtop. You open the door and walk into the bedroom to see Fred has removed his suit jacket, folding it over his chair.

You walk over pulling him by his vest closer to you, before pushing it off his broad shoulders. He kisses you as he unties your robe, sliding it off your shoulder revealing your lingerie. “Fuck" he mutters as he deepens the kiss bringing his hand around your back “I thought you would approve” you say kissing him. You bring your hands up his chest and undo the buttons on his dress shirt and loosen the tie around his neck.

Before you have a chance to take his shirt off he growls “hands and knees on the bed now.”

You agree feeling wetness pooling, you walk to the bed, getting into position you stick your ass out for him. He immediately rids himself of his pants, he comes behind you and grazes your ass as you shutter. He brings a hand to slap your ass “you were so bad earlier” he spits out bringing another hand to your ass. You wince slightly “such a bad girl, we could have been hurt.”

You turn your head, looking at Fred over your shoulder. He looks amazing. His dress shirt is unbuttoned, hanging on his shoulders, sweat dripping down on his abs. You can see how tight his blue boxers are, his erection straining inside the fabric waiting to be freed. “I trust you” you whisper.

He smirks at you as his hand begins stroking your ass, playing with the lacy fabric before he smacks your ass again causing you to curse loudly. “Such a fucking slut” he spews, before he smacks your ass once more. This one is harder than the others, causing a tear to catch in your eyes as a whimper leaves your mouth. You feel yourself soaking through the lingerie.

He brings his hand to slap you once more a yelp leaves your mouth. “You were so bad earlier” he strokes the fabric over ass “think you learned your lesson?”

He begins sliding his finger up the inside of your thigh, and pinches your ass when you don’t respond right away. Your voice is caught in your throat but you manage to squeak out “yes daddy.”

“Fucking hell” he mumbles running his finger over your clothed core, feeling the wetness that has collected.

Fred smirks “you need this eh” he asks, sliding your bottoms to the side and pushes two fingers inside your folds. “You have no idea” you respond while he fucks his fingers inside of you. His fingers curl inside you hitting your G-spot, he pumps them in and out of you quickly. He pulls his fingers from you and drops his boxers, his cock springing free as he sits down on the bed pulling you onto his lap.

You climb into his lap and he guides you onto him, pushing your underwear to the side. He starts a fast pace, not allowing you to fully adjust as you cry out, gripping his shoulder tightly. He picks up the pace, pushing fully inside you, bottoming out every time, the sound of your skin flapping and moans fill the room. You move in unison, rising up and dropping down on him, your hands laced in his hair. His hands are on your hips, pulling you down onto him “Freddie” you moan loudly as your head falls onto his shoulder.

Fred places kisses on your collarbone and neck as you feel your walls begin to tighten as Fred slows the pace. You groan in disappointment at him “you were bad, you don’t get to yet” he spews in your ear. He brings a hand up to your mouth; he slips two fingers in your mouth. You bob on them, coating them in spit. He pulls them from your mouth and goes to your ass.

You bite his shoulder as he slowly slides them in your hole. He stills for a second allowing you to adjust, you suck on his neck. Fred slowly starts to thrust in and out of your hole, as you bite harder on his shoulder. You rise up and drop down on him, as he thrusts slowly into your hole. Fred allows you to set this pace, since you are being stretched in two different directions. You grip his hair tightly, rolling back further onto his fingers.

He starts increasing the pace and it has you screaming out as he keeps thrusting, each time bottoming out. You feel your walls begin to tighten your orgasm approaching you again. He keeps his pace, thrusting in both your holes as you clench around him.

“Fred I’m gonna cum” you say as your head falls back.

“No” he growls. You whimper, not sure if you can hold it in yet.

“Please daddy, let me cum” you groan.

“Not yet” he says before bringing his mouth to your nipple. He sucks and swirls on it as your head falls back. He brings his mouth up and attaches to your neck and bites hard on and keeps moving his hand in and out of your ass. You roll your hips against him “I can’t” you moan out, unsure how long you can hold back.

You are a writhing mess doing everything to hold your orgasm in. You feel Fred start to get sloppy underneath you when he finally growls “cum.”

You tighten around him as your orgasm crashes over you, it is intense and you lose control of yourself. Fred holds you steady, keeping the pace as your hands dig into his shoulder. Your eyes roll back into your head while a string of moans and curses fall from your lips, Fred is pumping erratically under you.

When you finally come back around you look at Fred, his face is strained as he is waiting for your orgasm to finish. You feel Fred’s dick twitch as he pulls you down shooting his load deep inside you.

You sit on him as he slowly stills, you press your forehead to his, kissing his nose. Your head falls onto his shoulder for a few minutes as your breathing steadies. He gently lifts you up and pulls out of you before falling onto the bed, pulling you with him.

You lay on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder looking up at him, his strong arm wrapped around you. You gently stroke his beard; he turns to look at you. You lean up and cup his face kissing him lightly. Fred pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. Your hand slides into his hair, you crawl up him as his hand slides onto the small of your back. You groan into the kiss as Fred rolls you over onto your back, he brings a hand to your breast pulling the fabric down. He sucks on your nipple, swirling his tongue around it.

Your head falls back onto the pillow, as he keeps sucking. You feel him grow hard again, his erection pressing into your stomach. He moves down and places a kiss on your stomach, his hand slides around to your ass, playing with the hem of your bottoms. He places a light kiss on you as you wrap a leg around his back “you have another one in ya?”

His hand is on your ass. You whimper slightly before nodding, biting your bottom lip. He kisses your neck as he mumbles into your ear “you sure, the last one was pretty intense?”

“Freddie” you groan.

He smirks as he hooks his finger through your bottoms and pulls them off you as he places soft kisses on your stomach. He slowly pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out, his cum spills out in the process. He sucks on your clit, as he continues to scissor you. His thumb presses firmly into you clit, rubbing circles on your bud.

He moves his mouth and slips them inside your folds, licking up your walls. Your hands slide down to his hair, lightly tangling with it. After several slow thrusts, he pulls his mouth away and his fingers out and pushes them in your mouth. You moan at the taste “we taste good together, eh babe?” he grins as you lick him clean. You suck his fingers clean before he pulls them out of your mouth.

“Yes” you whisper.

He slides lower, his beard rubbing against your thighs. He looks into your glistening cunt, before diving in, licking up your remaining juices. You throw your head back “so fucking good” he mumbles before returning to lick you.

He brings his fingers back down and pushes them inside you, curling them to hit your sweet spot as he nibbles your thighs. He uses his fingers to scissor you open before sliding his tongue in you. Your hips arch pushing your cunt into his face. He throws his other arm over your waist to hold you firmly in place while he pushes his tongue in and out of you.

Your hands grip the sheets firmly as you try to squirm, his pace increases, mouth and fingers moving in tandem. You feel your second orgasm quickly approaching

“Like this princess?”

“Yes” you scream as he pushes deep in you. He thrusts inside you at a fast pace, you moan loudly. “So good. So close” you groan.

You feel him smirk from between your legs, as he pushes his head in further. His beard is scraping your legs, likely leaving a friction rash. You throw your legs over his shoulder, as he pushes his finger into your bud as his tongue licks deep inside you. Your orgasm comes over you fast and hard, you feel yourself clench around his fingers and tongue, your vision goes black for a moment.

He wraps an arm around you as he collapses pulling you onto your side. After a few minutes he carries you to the bathroom setting you on the counter. He strips your bra off and grabs a damp towel and begins to clean you. “You’re so beautiful” he says pulling a t-shirt over you, lightly kissing your forehead. He carries you back to bed and strokes your hair whispering Danish in your ear as you doze off.

Gala Dress:

Lingerie:

Next Chapter

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