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taetaespeaches · 3 years

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“Are you sure you want to take a nap right now, Dear?”

jimin x reader (oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.5K

a/n: hi lovelies!! This is a week late but I hope you all enjoy it. Jimin is just full of surprises and very much in love with Dear/reader. And the feeling is mututal. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

Arriving at your empty apartment after a long day and knowing Jimin would not be joining you later that night was, well, shitty. Everything was so quiet. Dragging your feet to your bedroom with a huff, you eyed the plush bear sitting on the bed.

Jimin had given you the stuffed animal early on in your relationship and it served as a decent cuddle buddy during your boyfriend’s long tours. But it wasn’t Jimin.

Tours were never easy, especially for you and Jimin. A history of insecurities following you both had riddled your minds with doubt in the past, even leading to a temporary separation. However, this tour, though difficult and lonely as always, you both felt more secure.

Communication was consistent between you, allowing you both to address any fears or anxieties as they happened. Though he was miles and miles away, he felt close. You could breathe this time around.

But fuck, you missed your boyfriend.

Stepping out of your work clothes, you slipped on one of Jimin’s t-shirts. It was losing his scent, but if you focused enough, you could still smell the man on the clothing. Walking to the bed, you tapped on the phone screen to check the time. 5:34 pm. Pouting, you mentally counted the hours until your scheduled facetime call with the man would commence. What were you meantd to do with the remaining three hours and twenty-sex minutes?

The group’s tour was coming to a close soon- just a couple more weeks. He was in Japan before the last week of shows started, filming a few things in the meantime. At least with him being just on the other side of the Sea of Japan you were existing under the same position of the sun. Time zones get confusing when he’s traveling nonstop.

Lying across the bed, you held your phone out in front of you as you went to shoot your boyfriend a text.

You: You better be taking care of yourself, my love. I’m gonna take a nap, I’ll text when I wake up. I love you. Can’t wait to see your face in a bit!

Locking the phone, you set it aside on the comforter, grabbing the little bear to cuddle up next to as you tried to get comfy. Definitely not Jimin, you thought. You weren’t sure if you would get any sleep, but it would pass the time. As the end of tour neared, the days became longer.

Absentmindedly, your eyes closed as you tried to lose yourself in slumber, you spun the promise ring that was situated on your finger. It was just a simple piece of jewelry, but its presence on your body served as a reminder of the promise you and Jimin made to each other.

A promise to wait for one another when he was away; a promise that feelings would never lessen through the distance; a promise to trust each other and the relationship, to communicate, to not lose a fight with personal insecurities. A promise that he would always return home. Home to you.

As you opened your eyes to look at the ring, spotting the little PJM engraved on it, a light smile graced your features. Your relationship with Jimin had always been complicated, ever since the start. The obvious attraction was pushed aside for two whole years as you tried to find yourself so you could be your best, for you and for him. But he waited. He cherished your friendship instead, giving you the best of him every single day.

It was hard not to allow the few months you had difficulties as a couple to taint the entire union. Both of you, dealing with your own insecurities, had been pulling away because you thought that was what the other person wanted, only to later find out you both wanted to be closer. Always responding to each other but never communicating. Tours were scary. It had brought out the worst in you both before, but you refused to let it happen again. As he was away, you would always be there waiting for him. Just as he had waited for you years earlier.

You found that physical distance was much easier to combat than emotional distance. You could handle the miles, because you knew he was never really very far. And he’d always return home.

Lost in memories of your relationship, appreciating every challenge as they got you to this point of security, you were suddenly ripped from your thoughts by unexpected disruptions coming from your front door. There was no knocking, but it sounded as though the barrier had been breached.

Heart racing, you sat up in the bed, listening as quiet footsteps approached the bedroom. Reaching for your phone, you prepared to dial for help when suddenly your name was called out, just before the door opened to reveal him. Stunning as ever, smiling brightly, tired eyes only adding to his cuddly presentation, slim fitting sweatpants hugging his legs as the top half was shrouded in a baggy sweatshirt.

“Jimin,” you breathed out, tears instantly filling your eyes.

“Are you sure you want to take a nap right now, Dear?” He teased, that mischievous grin greeting your orbs as a smile curved on your lips.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him in disbelief as you leaped off the bed, Jimin rushing to you with open arms, both of your smiles bright, expressing nothing but pure love and joy. Your bodies crashed into each other less than gracefully, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as his own secured around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him.

The first thing to hit your senses was the feel of him. The man buried his face in your hair as you nuzzled yours against his neck, the warmth of him filling you with comfort. You could feel his heart beating through his chest, melting into the pulses of your own. It was amazing how much a person could feel like home. The second was his scent. The one that was fading on the very shirt you wore. The fragrance, so distinctly Jimin, could make you cry if you focused on it for too long.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered in relief. Relief to have you back in his arms, to not be oceans or continents away. Tightening your grip around him, you didn’t respond, not trusting your voice as tears dropped onto the clothing covering his shoulder.

You didn’t know how long you stood there like that in your bedroom, holding onto each other for the first time in months, simply feeling one another’s physical existence. You missed existing with him. The weight of the ring was pale in comparison to having him in your arms, his body joined with yours.

Eventually, you pulled away just enough to be able to bring your hands to the sides of his face, holding him there so you could appreciate his features up close.

“Oh, Dear, don’t cry,” he cooed, his mouth forming into that smile you adored so much.

“But I missed you too,” you finally replied, a light breathy laugh leaving your lips at his chuckle that left his pretty lips and greeted your ears. And just like that, those pretty lips were on yours, kissing you needily, passionately, wantingly. The meeting was hot, burning almost. It was controlled but fervent in how his lips caressed your own, the man trying to express every bit of emotion he felt for you through the action.

His hands slid under the bottom of your shirt, his shirt, the man smirking against your mouth.

“Is this mine?” He teased, you smiling as you shook your head at his sudden cockiness.

“Shut up,” you told him, reattaching your mouth to his, his tongue instantly meeting with yours. You relished in the taste of him. No promise ring or facetime call could ever fully take the place of the reality of this man. When his hands folded over the hem of the top adorning your frame, you instantly raised your arms above your head, allowing him to pull it from your body needily, his lips only leaving yours long enough to tug the clothing over your head. His hands slid up the exposed skin of your sides, reaching the curves of your breasts, the man sucking in a breath of air at their bareness.

Lightly clamping your teeth on the plumpness of his bottom lip as he pulled away, your eyes met his dark ones as his tongue ran over his lip. Breaking eye contact, he glanced down at your chest, a smirk curving on his mouth as you returned the expression with a warm smile.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in a whisper, you chuckling as you ran a hand through his soft hair at the back of his head. “Always fucking braless,” he lightheartedly complained as though your tendency to exist in a free state caused him such anguish. Giggling at him, he smiled lovingly.

Within an instant, he was pressing hot kisses to your collarbones, working his way to your chest. Arching your back, you pressed your chest toward him, the man greedily taking one of your nipples into his mouth. At the moan that left your lips, he began backing you up towards the bed, pushing you onto it as soon as your legs met the edge of the mattress.

Looking up at him, you watched as he pulled the sweatshirt from his body, fluffing his hair, making him look both adorably disheveled and sexily undone. Next came his pants, the man wasting no time in removing his clothing so he could finally be with you.

As he removed his underwear, you eyed his body appreciatively, drinking in every inch of skin upon him. Every muscle, every pore, every blemish, every bit of flesh, you craved for it. You wanted him.

Jimin quickly grabbed a condom from the bedside table drawer, smiling when he saw they were exactly as he left them. It had been too long. Turning to face you, he let out a breath of disbelief as you slid your own panties down your legs. Reaching for him, your hand gripped the bare skin of his upper thigh, tugging for him to meet you on the bed. However, the man resisted, instead dropping to his knees as he began placing sweet, gentle kisses to your knees, trailing them along the insides of your thighs.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched him near your center with hooded eyes that stared your body down.

“Chim,” you breathed out as he left a chaste kiss to you.

“Shh,” he smirked. “Let me love you the way I’ve been craving.”

The words elicited a moan from you as you dropped your back to the bed, allowing him to show you just how much he missed you.

Jimin was very attentive. So in tune with your body, he read each moan and gesture from you like it was a manual, responding to each reaction perfectly as he programmed it all into his mind to bring you the utmost pleasure. With his skills, along with the fact that you hadn’t been touched by him in months, it didn’t take long for you to come crashing into your first orgasm, the man shooting you a stunning smile as he crawled up your body, an aura of pride enveloping him, making him all the more sexy.

“I would say don’t get cocky but you’ve earned it,” you joked and complimented through your breathlessness, just before Jimin’s lips greeted yours once again, the comment causing him to smile into the kiss.

“I really missed you,” he mumbled against your mouth, you pouting at the confession, your hands squeezing at his hips.

“Don’t leave again,” you teasingly begged, Jimin smiling almost bashfully while he sat up on his knees to situate the condom onto himself. Lowering his frame to yours once again, he kissed your nose sweetly, a soft smile gracing your features as you looked into his eyes.

“I love you so much,” he admitted just before pecking your lips. “So much.”

“I love you,” you told him as he guided himself into you, your arms gripping onto his back as he stilled for a moment, allowing himself to get used to the overwhelming feeling of you before moving. “So so much,” you damn near whimpered, your lips just barely brushing against his.

The man brushed the hair out of your face just before he kissed you hungrily, caging your body between his arms as he began dragging his hips, hitting deep within you and eliciting a moan into his mouth.

“Shit,” he breathed out, breaking the kiss, his exhale shaky as he brought his mouth to the side of your face, kissing your cheek as he continued his movements, allowing you to feel all of him. “I could never forget how you feel but fuck it almost feels like the first time,” he confessed in a hushed voice near your ear, a small chuckle attached to the words. Giggling in response, you dug your fingertips into the muscles on his back.

“I know,” you agreed simply, bringing your mouth to his shoulder as you bit him lightly, the man breathily laughing at the action, turning toward you to meet your gaze.

“I don’t know how you’re home right now, but I’m so glad you are,” you told him softly, the man smiling happily.

“Me too,” he responded just as you clenched around him, nearing your high. “Grip me like that again and I’m not gonna last.”

“Good,” you grinned, the man chuckling as he kissed you again. Resting his forehead against your own, he squeezed his eyes shut as he continued rolling his hips against yours, your skin becoming dewey in the heat of the moment.

Jimin reveled in the feeling of your body underneath his own, your chest rubbing against his, your hips bumping against his own as you lifted them off the mattress in an attempt to have more of him. The man moved his hand down to your hip, holding you down with a smirk on his lips as your leg wrapped around his own, digging your heel into his thigh as you desperately chased your approaching high.

“So close,” you moaned, Jimin whining near your ear, his tone breathy, a bit of strain withheld in his vocal cords as he attempted to hold off on cumming just yet.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asked, almost pleading for mercy, the words followed by a sexy whimper.

Pressing kisses against the side of his face in response, the man turned so his mouth fell on your own, the meeting messy, full of teeth and moans as he reached his high just before you.

It felt as though you were floating as Jimin kissed down your jaw, leaving wet marks across your neck. The man began trailing his lips across your shoulder and down your bicep just before you wrapped your arms around his head. Nuzzling his face against your chest, he closed his eyes, settling into the feeling of your frame, both of you breathless and content.

At some point, Jimin rolled off of you, both of you lying face to face on your sides. Sharing in the intimacy of being together, sweet kisses were passed back and forth, both of you relishing in the touches granted upon each other’s skin.

Few words were spoken between you, but rather you simply existed within each other’s presence. Eventually, you found yourselves cuddled up with Jimin behind you, spooning your nude body, his hand intertwined with your own in front of your chest.

His fingertips were toying with the metal band of your promise ring as your eyes locked on the identical jewelry positioned on his own finger.

This is home.

You weren’t sure when you and Jimin dozed off, nor how long it had been, but you could feel the rumbling of the man’s stomach when you awoke. He probably hadn’t eaten since very early that day. Jimin’s arm was still draped over your hip, his chest pressed snugly against your back. You were tempted to ignore the man’s hunger, as well as your own, and stay in his embrace for longer. But your desire to nurture him won out as you very carefully lifted his arm from your body, crawling away from him as quietly as you could as to not disturb his sleep.

Grabbing the sweatshirt he arrived home in, you slipped it over your head, fitting it onto your body before grabbing a pair of underwear from your dresser. Tiptoeing out of the room, you made your way to the kitchen to prepare food for the man sleeping in your bed.

You didn’t get very far into the cooking, however, before Jimin’s voice cut through the quiet of the apartment.

“You’re such a little clothing thief,” he playfully complained as he entered the kitchen where you were stood in front of the stove. Turning to face him, you were happy to find that his upper body was bare, his lower half covered with the same sweatpants as earlier, the clothing hugging his hips just right. Giggling, you open your arms for him, the man walking right into them, wrapping his own limbs around the back of your head as yours snaked around his waist.

“It smells like you,” you defended, the man smiling against your cheek just before pressing a kiss to the spot.

“What are you making?” He asked, peering around your body to see the boiling noodles.

“Just some ramen,” you told him, placing a kiss on his neck. “Thought you might wake up a little hungry.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, turning his head back to be face to face with you. The man nudged your nose with his own causing you to scrunch yours in response. “I’m starving,” he chuckled, a smile stretching across your own face.

“Yeah I know, you woke me up,” you teased, gesturing down to his belly, the man giggling just as you kissed him softly. “Can you grab some bowls?”

The man wordlessly answered by detaching himself from you, retrieving some bowls, along with utensils. He stood close by as you transferred the noodles to the bowls, trying to get away with placing more noodles into the bowl that you handed Jimin, only to be met with a knowing scoff. You both moved to the island where you seated yourselves, facing one another, your knees brushing his own, his hand taking solace on your bare thigh.

“How was tour?” You asked him excitedly just as he scooped some of his noodles from his bowl to your own, making a point to ensure you ate just as much as him. Rolling your eyes at the action, he smiled proudly. “And how the hell are you here right now?”

“Magic,” he teased, you sighing, Jimin giggling as he dropped his head toward his chest. Looking up at you with his stunning smile and warm eyes, he bit his bottom lip just slightly. “I just wanted to surprise you,” he told you. “We still have a couple shows in Japan next week, that was true,” he interjected in a playful, unnecessary defense. “So I’ll have to leave in a few days just for a week but-”

“Wait, you don’t have to film stuff this week?” You questioned, watching as Jimin shook his head.

“No, that was all an elaborate lie to surprise you,” he grinned, almost guiltily as you gasped.

“What the fuck?” You expressed your confusion. “Is everyone in on this then because Tae even said you guys are filming this week, and all the girls-”

“I told you it was elaborate,” he interrupted you.

“You’re insane,” you told him in shock. “Amazingly, wonderfully insane.”

Bringing his face to yours, pressing a series of kisses to your cheek, you couldn’t help but smile and let out a breathy laugh. “I just love you,” he defended his actions. “I am amazingly, wonderfully, insanely in love with you.”

“I’m really happy you’re here,” you told him sincerely.

“Me too, Dear,” he rested his forehead against yours. As a pout positioned itself on your lips, he pulled away from you to look at your expression. “What’s that face for?” He smiled affectionately.

Giggling at yourself, you shook your head. “Nothing, I just like you.”

The man’s smile widened even more as he looked to his bowl, scooping up a bunch of noodles and shoving them into his mouth. “The feeling is mutual,” he mumbled through his mouthful of food, you laughing wholeheartedly at him.

Sitting with Jimin, eating ramen, you could not be happier that he was home. He told you stories about tour that you had already heard through a screen, and you told him all about the happenings at your work that he had also already heard. And he acted as if your stories were as exciting as his own, or maybe he really found them to be as interesting.

It was easy and comfortable and you were both in bliss just simply being together. It had been months since you got to exist with him. And existing with him, well, that was your favorite thing about existing at all.

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voltage-vixen · 3 years

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Marks of Love

Fandom: Kings of Paradise Pairing: Taki Kozaki x MC (Female) Warning: NSFW

Sighing, MC glanced at the striking maroon love marks Taki etched deep into her skin. Earlier he passionately ravaged her hours prior before the sun rose this chilly November morning.

Today was Taki’s birthday, and their private celebration commenced the second the clock struck midnight. The wishes of happy birthday were barely professed by MC when Taki pinned her back down to the bed. Claiming her lips for his own, he savored the present of her very presence, and shared his appreciation by lavishing her chest in plentiful, rough kisses.

Rough may have been a bit of an understatement MC thought, as she further observed the vivid aftermath of their lovemaking sessions brightly peeking out from underneath the neckline of her robe. One of her hands reached up to touch the newfound blemishes, tracing the marks Taki left, feeling her body heat up at the memory of everything they did last night.

A faint blush creeped into MC’s cheeks as the recollection of their rendezvous flashed through her mind. She could still hear Taki’s guttural moans as he thrusted into her, and the way his muscles flexed when his hips roll-

“There you are,” Taki murmured, interrupting his partner’s daydreaming while he snuck up behind her and encircled MC into the comfort of his embrace. “I woke up and felt how cold your side of the bed was. Why would you abandon me? On the morning of my birthday nonetheless.”

“Happy birthday to you again,” MC giggled, pinching herself to regain her composure before turning around to face him. “And don’t pout. I only left so I could start getting ready for the day and make you your favorites for breakfast. I’m not planning on running off to anywhere else.”

Rising up on the tips of her toes, MC’s arms wrapped around his neck, gently tugging Taki down so she could gaze into his eyes. The softness of his expression made her heart thump rapidly, and MC found herself parting her lips, inviting the man she loved to take her breath away. Seconds felt like years as Taki slowly inched towards her face. Her thoughts racing in anticipation, MC’s eyelashes fluttered until Taki’s lips brushed hers. She mewled when he deepened their kiss, arching herself closer to him when Taki’s hand traced around her frame to cup the curve of her ass ignited a greed, she never acknowledged existed within her.

“You’re pretty red already from just a kiss,” Taki teased, the smirk he wore smug indicating how aware he was of the true nature behind his companion’s blush. “You couldn’t possibly still be warm from last round now, could you?”

“If I am, it’s your fault, Taki,” MC huffed, squealing when he suddenly swooped her up and sauntered back into the bedroom.

Taki paused at the foot of the bed, lowering MC down onto the floor until she was standing pressed up against the edge of the mattress. Locking his gaze onto her, Taki knelt down, vigilant in observing the blissful reactions from MC’s eyes clenching tightly shut whilst his fingers slipped underneath the hem of her robe. Her breaths became ragged when he intentionally stroked the area MC was most sensitive, deliberately circling his thumb in leisure circles through the fabric of the red panties she wore.

Surely the fact she was wearing them was no mere coincidence considering MC was more than aware of how witnessing the sheer material cling to her womanly curves drove him mad awakening a lustful desire within him. He wanted her. And judging by the dampness of her underwear Taki had been continuing to toy with, he realized the feeling was mutual. Blowing onto the nape of MC’s abdomen to tease and watch her squirm, Taki smirked before latching his teeth onto the band of fabric.

“I’m unwrapping one of my gifts early,” Taki muttered, fervently dragging the silky garment down the surface of her thighs.

Once the underwear pooled onto the carpet, the real-estate tycoon’s hands reached under her robe to firmly cup her ass and tugged her closer. MC unfastened the tie of her robe to strip herself bare. Shimmying free from the clothing until the slight chill of the air grazed her skin, she threw one of her legs over Taki’s shoulder. Nuzzling his cheek against her thigh, Taki nipped at her flesh, imprinting the visible marks of his love upon her.

“Unless you have any objections?” he breathed, pausing just out of reach from where she needed Taki to touch the most.

“Y-You, know I don’t,” she whimpered in a fit of impatience. Unable to control herself for any longer, MC grabbed onto the back of his head and joined them together.

“Ngh!” MC cried, her body rippling in pleasure when the familiarity of his tongue intruded beyond the velvet of her glistened folds.

With a swift lift of her hips, Taki pushed MC back down onto the bed while his mouth pursued on his mission to ravage her. Each stroke was languid, sensuous, and eliciting melodious sounds from MC that both Taki and she weren’t even aware she was capable of generating. Taki’s seasoned movements no sooner induced an explosion of heat, drawing her coils to intensely bind, leaving her body thrashing against the material of the sheets as she recovered from her pleasant high.

“You taste better than any cake,” Taki uttered, lusting after the beautiful aftermath of her coming undone from the throes of his passion.

Ensuring that each delectable drop of her sweet nectar was ravished, Taki crawled up onto the bed and flipped her over until she was pressing into the mattress on all fours.

“Can I be selfish and ask for another present?”

No verbal response was necessary, because MC’s body hummed in consent, thrusting back to invite him to use her in which he desired. His cock twitched, turned on by how sexy MC looked from this angle. The skin on her backside was creamy and untouched, similia as if she were a blank canvas waiting to be colored. Taki never was one to consider himself the artistic type, but he was driven by a desirous urge to mark the rest of her.

Crouching over MC, Taki’s teeth found the smoothness of her ass, roughly biting down until flushed crimson mark was imprinted onto her. Encouraged by MC’s groans of approval, Taki’s journey ascended her back, savagely nipping away to fully envelop her flesh in impressions of his love. Each nibble left MC hotter and hotter, yearning to experience a closer intimacy with Taki. On top of brimming in sensitivity from her previous release, the tantalizing foreplay was simply no longer enough to satisfy her.

“Taki,” she panted, squirming from the gratifying assault now occurring on her neck. “Taki, take me now. Make me scream your name, over and over again, until I’m too exhausted too breath another word.”

For once, Taki was grateful that MC’s current position prevented him from being able to see her face. Her honest confession provoked a blush that stained his cheeks, and Taki was less than inclined to let her behold seeing him in such a flustered state. Wanting to distract MC and oblige her request, he surrounded to the temptation by latching his hands onto the curves of her waist. With a roll of his hips, Taki feverishly pressed into MC, both groaning at the tingling warmth euphoric sensation that immersed their bodies whenever they became one.

Concerned for MC’s well-being, Taki’s pace commenced gradually, heightening his speed only when the pleas from his lover to go harder reassured him. He stayed committed to fulfilling MC’s requests, because each vigorous thrust evoked cries of pure carnal rapture. Lovemaking with MC was always healing to him since their emotional connection stemmed beyond the bounds of solely physicality. Both his body and heart were full of captivation for her, and MC was the one constant in his life. He knew these feelings would never fade away; confident they would continue to flourish as time carried on.

The sound of their skin slapping together resounded throughout the room as Taki’s hips proceeded to crash into MC. Taki grunted when he her walls fluttered around him, clenching soundly around his expanding length. His cock growing harder, Taki slammed into MC, reaching out to give her hair a tug as they both were finally pushed over the edge. Blissfully drained from the zealous sex they had engaged in, MC collapsed down onto the mattress.

The rising sunlight streamed into the bedroom, trickling warmth down onto their damp bodies. Propping his head up with pillows, Taki enticed MC to rest her head on his chest. Inching over to cuddle close to Taki, MC wrapped her leg around his and nuzzled into his body. In MC’s new arrangement, Taki caught a glimpse of a few of the marks he left engraved on her body.

“MC,” Taki sheepishly “I went a little overboard with the hickeys. I’m sorry, I lose all sense of control when I’m with you. I love you so much, I can never get enough of you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Taki,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the noises she made earlier. “I love it when you mark me as your own.”

Sitting up in the bed, MC adjusted herself so she could brush Taki’s hair to the side of his face. Her hand pet the top of his head, and she placed tender kisses on his forehead to reassure him.

“Although there is something you can do to make it up for me,” she suggested, a sudden lightbulb going off in her head. Curious, Taki glanced up at her, willing to do anything that would please her.

“Name it. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

“Well, my terms are pretty straightforward,” MC cooed, climbing on top of Taki to straddle him. “You have to promise that each year we’re going to spend your birthday together. It doesn’t matter where we are, or what we’re doing, as long as we have each other.”

MC squealed when Taki leaned up and encircled her in a hug. His heart was racing at the prospect of spending the rest of forever as a couple. He gave her a squeeze before responding to the stipulation.

“I promise,” Taki vowed, extending his pinky finger out to swear on it. “Next year, the year after that, and all the ones succeeding after those.”

Linking their pinkies, they shook on their agreement. Wanting to celebrate the newfound deal, MC pushed Taki back down onto the bed. She ran her fingers down the muscles of his toned chest. The pining was mutual since she felt how turned on Taki was underneath her. Grinding her hips down on him, she watched in enjoyment as Taki withered beneath her.

“Care for breakfast in bed this morning?” she proposed, arching her eyebrow suggestively.

“You should know by now I would never turn down an offer from you,” Taki responded.

The rest of the morning consisted of them staying locked away in the bedroom, with Taki enjoying his birthday treat by sampling on all MC had to offer.

#kings of paradise #taki kozaki #taki's birthday bash #kings of paradise fanfic #voltage inc #taki kozaki fanfic #love 365 #sorry this is late #but this is the fic i decided to rewrite only to lose the ending #better late than never

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noonmutter · 3 years

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Kinky Questions, Go!! ALL 50! At least the ones you haven't gotten yet.

*knucklecrack*

1: Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer?

"Yes. If I gotta pick one, couch. Th' dryer's noisy an' I like bein' able t' hear th' other person.

2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why:

Answered here!

3: A fictional person that you think would be good in bed:

(I actually don't know any ingame fiction to draw an answer from here, sorry. <.<)

4: Something that never fails to make you horny:

"Pullin' me int' you. Up, down, chest-t'-chest, back-t'-chest, whatever. Not often I get manhandled, y'ken?"

5: Where is one place you would never have sex:

"I mean, never say never, but somewhere it'd take some real convincin' t'get me t' do it? Th' meetin' space at th' center o' th' Dreamgrove. I'd sooner set my 'air on fire than fuck where th' statue o' Malorne might watch me, an' Remulos would not approve."

(Rest below the cut! Yes I did do all of them!)

6: The most awkward moment during a sexual experience was when:

"...Wakin' up in a pile o' people after an especially long bender, none of 'om I recognized, an' not one stitch o' clothin' anywhere in sight except fer a gnome-sized miniskirt. An' there were no gnomes in th' pile! "Days like tha' are why I don't fuck drunk anymore."

7: Weirdest thing that ever made you horny:

"Tenderizin' steak." Sigh. "Pretty sure it was th' smell o' th' raw meat, mostly.

8: What is the best way to sexually bind someone: Handcuffs, Rope, or Other [if other please explain]:

"With my bare 'ands, or with my teeth 'oldin' somethin' sensitive. Wolf's snout kin fit all th' way 'round most people's throats without actually bitin' down as long as I get th' canines all th' way across, an' as long as neither of us move too terribly much, it's great fun."

9: What is the fastest way to make you horny:

"Hook a finger in my collar an' pull me t' yer eye level. Trouble is, if we're not already pretty damn close an' y' start grabbin' at my collar, I might punch y'."

10: Top or bottom?

"Switch."

11: We were about to ____________ but then ______________ [example: we were about to have sex but then his mom walked in] "We were about t' sneak off t' start our 'oneymoon but then I tripped through a portal some jackass dropped in th' middle o' th' weddin' party an' 'ad t' fly all th' way back first.

12: Is one orgasm enough? Are multiple orgasms necessary?

"Sometimes it's enough, sometimes it's a start, sometimes it's not even th' point. Really depends on th' mood at th' moment, dunnit? I like t'go as many rounds as either of us kin stand, most o' th' time, but I def'nitely find plenty o' value in just one long, slow go tha' ends when it ends.

13: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find:

His expression was less jovial than for most of these questions. "Th' collar I made for Vandy."

14: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:

"Squigglebird. Long story."

15: Two things you like [or dislike] about oral sex:

"Like th' noises it makes a person make--vocally, I mean--an' th' views it gives o' th' person I'm goin' down on an' th' person tha's goin' down on my. Don't like th' taste all tha' much, really 'ate some o' th' noises yer lips an' throat make if yer a li'l overzealous."

16: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you:

"Li'l inflatable toy thingie in m' backside. Felt alright fer a while, cuz I mean it wasn't like it was th' first time I'd 'ad anythin' in there, but ah... she kept goin' past my willin'ness, an' it got pretty damn uncomfortable pretty damn fast. I might be willin' t' try it again but not without a lotta thought b'fore'and, an' not with my 'ands bound.

17: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Tasted like cum. Nothin' special."

18: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:

"I mean, if y'both agree to it an' y'don't fool around with anybody else, then yeah it's fine. Overwhelmin' majority o' th' time, I wrap up, even with m'wives."

19: Who was the sexiest teacher you ever had?

"...I din't 'ave any teachers I thought were sexy? My first shan'do was a 'andsome elven woman 'o could arm-wrestle a grizzly an' win, but she wasn't wha' I'd call sexy. Too gruff, too keen t' be alone."

20: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience:

"Not somethin' I really think about in advance, t'be honest. Cook or no cook, food just kinda 'appens on a whim."

21: How big is too big:

"Can't get my mouth 'round it is usually a problem. Length isn't so much a concern, just means y' won't get t' bury it all th' way after a certain point unless y' want me dead."

22: One sexual thing you would never do:

"Mess with any bod'ly fluids besides cum. I tried real 'ard t'understand tha' one an' I just can't, sorry. Gross."

23: Biggest turn on:

"Depends on th' person; wha's 'ot from one is wierd comin' from another. Pickin' out of a hat? When Val'rin says somethin', then rolls 'is eyes up t' look at me an' tacks on a plaintive li'l 'Sir?' at th'end."

24: Three spots that drive you insane:

"Pretty much anywhere on m' throat, th' undersides o' my wrists, an' my 'air. Partic'larly yankin' on it. Just... don't come up an' do it outta nowhere. Like with m' collar, tha' shit'll get y' punched an' I'd argue y' prolly deserve it."

25: Worst possible time to get horny:

"Most times aren't really tha' bad, Iunno... middle of a warzone I guess?"

26: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans:

"I'm kinna suspicious of anybody 'o doesn't. Wha' kinna person doesn't love tha' kinda instant feedback? Tell me I'm doin' a good job, tell me 'ow t' do a better job, tell me just 'ow blown yer mind is by losin' track o' words, sing me a song."

27: Worst sexual idea you ever had:

"Really dunno why I thought it was a good idea t' let a blindfolded guy toss me anywhere, least of all into a bed with a solid headboard on it."

He touched the back of his head in remembered pain.

28: How much fapping is too much fapping:

"When yer chafed an' still 'aven't finished cuz yer too damned raw and desensitized t' get off, it's prolly time t' stop fer a while."

29: Best sexual complement you ever got:

Answered here!

30: Bald, landing strip, Jumanji:

"Landin' strip, ideally. I kin deal with whatever but tha's th' most convenient amount. Less potential fer mess."

31: Is it good sex if you don’t nut?

"What a bizarre question, 'course it is. Shit, sometimes tha's 'alf th' point."

32: Fill in the blank: “If they ____________, we are fuckin”

"Bite my neck 'r pin me t' a wall."

33: What your favorite part of your body:

"My 'air. It's gotten damned difficult t' take care of, but th' tradeoff's pretty worth it."

34: Favorite foreplay activities:

"Touchin'. Just... touchin'. Runnin' my fingers real light an' soft across ev'ry...single...inch...of a playmate's body. Learnin' th' curves, th' blemishes, th' scars, th' ins, th' outs, th' sensitive spots, th' ticklish bits, th' fav'rites all by touch. I kin do tha' fer hours if they'll let me."

35: Love (>,<, or =) Sex For those of us who don’t remember our math that's “greater than, less than, or equal to]

"Does not equal. Th' two kin be completely unrelated t'one another an' tha's perfec'ly fine. They kin en'hance each other when they're both involved, but they aren't incomplete without one another at all."

36: What do you wear to bed?

"If I kin get away with it, nothin'. I run 'ot these days, it's real easy t' overheat if I wear stuff t' sleep.

37: When was the first time you masturbated:

"Gods, Iunno. Thirteen? Fifteen? Somewhere in there."

38: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself?

"Not tha' I keep fer very long. I make 'em an' send 'em t' people tha' I made 'em for, then I get rid of 'em cuz I don't wanna watch m'self wankin' or whatever."

39: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?

"So many times, gods alive. Last time was a few days ago, if y' count th' back acres on our property as outside enough."

40: Have/would you ever have sex outside?

Leon just kinda snorted. (See previous answer!)

41: Have/would you ever had a threesome?

"Sev'ral times, an' I would 'appily do so again with th' right people. Fun, but occasionally tricky t' figger out."

42: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate?

"Most o' th' time I'm very borin' an' just stick t' my 'and an' maybe a dildo, but I got one o' those vibratin' sleeve thingers not too long ago tha' I've been meanin' t' try out..."

43: Have/would you ever masturbate at work/school?

"No, an' maybe. If I were still workin' in a kitchen where other people 'ad t' work an' there's food ev'rywhere, it'd be an absolutely not. I work in a private workshop by th' 'ouse now, so I kin get away with it more, long as 'm careful. Thus far I 'aven't been so tempted tha' I couldn't make it back in th' house first, though."

44: Have/would you ever have sex on a plane?

"Never been in one, be willin' t' try. I've 'eard 'ow tiny those bathrooms are."

45: What is one song you’d like to have sex to?

"...gonna 'ave t' ask me that'un again in a few months when I know more songs, sorry."

46: What is something nonsexual that makes you horny?

Answered here!

47: Most attractive celebrity?

"Do th' Tarts count as celebrities? I'm not even gonna try t' pick one, but tha's all I got."

48: Do you watch gay/lesbian porn? why/why not?

"Not a big porn-watcher in gen'ral, my life feels like a goddamned romance novel as it is. Not often I need more'n a couple o' particularly fond mem'ries."

49: If a child was born on the occasion of the last time you had sex, how old would that child be right now?

"Four days."

50: Has anyone ever posted nude pictures of you online?

(Hard to answer this one since the internet at large isn't really a thing in WoW, at least not in a widely-accepted enough way for me to answer it...)

51: What is one thing that NEVER makes you horny?

"Put-downs. Don't call me slut or boy or bitch--gods, especially not bitch--or th' like if y'want me t' go 'ome with y'."

52: Do you have stretch marks? (How do you feel about them? Has anyone ever had a problem with them?)

"Not tha' I've seen."

53: Do you like giving head? (why/why not)

"Like givin' it cuz it makes m' playmate feel real nice, don't like th' flavor s' much."

54: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in?

"Doesn't make a dif'rence t' me, aside from most tattoos bein' pretty."

55: How would you feel about taking someones virginity?

"Done it, though I'm not a fan o' th' phrasin'. They put some trust in me, I din't take anythin'."

56: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter?

"Nothin' spicy. Period. Just don't. It's not worth it."

57: Is there anything you do on Tumblr that you would not like your significant other to see?

(Another one that doesn't really have an answer in this context.)

58: Do you own any sex toys? (what is it? (how long have you had it?)

Leon burst out laughing and pointed at the full-size steamer trunk at the foot of his bed. "Tha's not even close t' all of it, either. Gods alive, wha' a question t' ask me!"

59: Would you give your significant other unrestricted access to your Tumblr for a day?

"Wouldn't give 'em unrestricted access t' anythin' private o' mine fer a day. If it's tha' private t' begin with, it's cuz it's my safe 'aven, an' they respect tha', same as I do their private stuff."

60: Would you be offended if your significant other suggested you get plastic surgery?

"A li'l bit if it came outta nowhere, but I've talked a fair bit about wishin' I could get rid o' some o' my scars. It's not somethin' I wouldn't consider tryin'."

61: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?

"Pretty 'appy doin' th' latter as it is. Don't think I'd wanna try th' recorded stuff, it seems like it'd be really awkward t' do tha' fer a cam'ra crew an' with somebody 'o ain't really enjoyin' it."

62: Do you watch porn?

"Not really. Most of it's not int'restin' t' me."

63: How small is too small?

"'Too small' is 'ard fer me t' quantify. I 'aven't found anythin' too small fer me t' work with some'ow."

64: Have you ever been called a freak? Why?

Bit of a flat look. "Worgen."

65: Who gave you your last kiss? Did it mean anything?

"Me an' th' guy 'o fucked me on th' fence out back shared quite a few kisses b'fore, durin', an' after. Mostly they meant 'fuck yer hot.'"

66: Would you switch phones with your significant other for a day?

"I mean, I could. Nothin' on there I wouldn't want any of 'em t' see. Be a bit inconvenient though."

67: Do you feel comfortable going “commando”?

"Frankly I'm more comfortable tha' way than otherwise. Spent too long with a big ol' poof o' fur around m' crotch t' be comfy with most undies. Same reason I'm not overly fond o' shoes either."

68: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair?

"Purely in a logistical sense, yeah. I kin still go t' town an' do thin's right, but it's... sloppy. Those 'airs seem t' WANT t' get in yer mouth, an' all tha', an' it's just so much messier overall."

69: If you could give yourself head, would you?

"'O says I can't?"

70: Booty or Boobs?

"I am very much an ass man."

71: If you had a penis, what would you name it?

"I do, but I didn't. Namin' it seems strange."

72: Have you ever been on an official date?

"Sev'ral, but all of 'em only took place in th' last few years. Never when I was growin' up."

73: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?)

"No, an' I never will, an' you kin quote me on tha'."

74: If you were a stripper, what would your name be?

"I 'aven't th' faintest idea 'ow tha' works."

75: Have you ever had sex in your parents bed? (Would you?)

"Nope. Never 'ad th' opportunity, an' I think I'd rather throw up on th' floor an' eat it."

76: How would you react if you found out your parents had sex in your bed?

"Sweet, I'm gettin' a new bed!"

77: What was your reaction the first time you saw a penis/vagina

"Assumin' we're not talkin' about my own bits... 'That's not gonna fit!' fer a dick, an' 'This is a lot less sexy than th'other lads made it out t'be' fer a cooch."

78: If you had a penis/vagina for a day, what are five things you would do?

Answered here!

79: Oral, Anal, or Vaginal?

"Yes."

80: What’s the first thing you look at on someone of the opposite gender?

"Their face. Also 'ow they carry themselves. But mostly their face."

( @pinpep @shckaewynn @valarin-sunstorm for mentions )

#prompty things #leon #SUCK IT RANEK

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babyybitchhhwrites · 4 years

Text

Shikaku x Reader 18+

Title: Kiss it Better

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 3830

Warnings/tags: barebacking, begging, older man/younger woman

♥♥♥♥

Shikaku’s body was a menagerie of scars. Some so old that you could just barely make out the pale, jagged pink lines cutting across his skin. Others more recent and darker. They were a stark contrast against his warm complexion, drawing your gaze and making the others seem less noticeable by comparison. You were struck by the sheer number of them; how every inch of his body appeared to be marred with some physical reminder or another of hard won battles just as much as narrow escapes. There were almost too many to count. Surprisingly, though, they did not detract from his undeniable good looks. If anything, they only added to the pretty picture he painted sprawled out underneath you.

Reverentially, you traced the path of what looked to have been a particularly gruesome wound with your fingertip. It was probably a miracle he hadn’t been eviscerated. You wondered how he’d ever survived - not only this attack but all of them combined. Just how many battles had he fought and walked away from? You weren’t so sure you wanted to know the answer to that question.

It’s not as if you could have ever given voice to your curiosity anyway. It wasn’t your place to pry and he was already watching you with a steady interest that made you feel decidedly put on the spot. Like a stagelight had been trained on you and you alone; effectively highlighting your role as the instigator in all this.

He seemed perfectly at ease playing the observer, your audience of one. Content to let you peruse his body at your own leisure. Those sharp, pinpoint eyes that never seemed to miss even the smallest of details tracked the motion of your hand whenever you’d reach out to touch a new scar before flicking back up to your face again, silently gauging your reaction to each one. You weren’t sure what exactly your expression was conveying in that moment but Shikaku drank it all in with unwavering complacency. If he was offended by your keen scrutinization of his scars, he certainly didn’t show it.

Drawing your gaze lower, you followed the lean line of his stomach until he disappeared underneath you. The meat of your thighs seemed especially soft and pliable where they were bracketing his narrow hips, bulging around and molding to the firm shape of him. He was lithe and hard despite his age. Despite his role as Jounin commander which consisted almost entirely of desk work. He must have taken the time to keep up on his own training over the years and with some frequency, and it showed.

You couldn’t help noticing that there were signs of past altercations even this far down on his body, much too below the belt to have been anything but a cheap shot. Who was petty and malicious enough to hurt someone here? A tinge of ire sparked through you as the pad of your finger circled the pock mark blemish that was just shy of his hip bone. It must have hurt like hell getting injured so close to the groin.

Shikaku drew a quiet inhale then and your head came up. Worry that you’d overstepped some unspoken boundary or touched on a nerve that still ached even after the flesh had long since mended itself flooded your thoughts in a sudden rush. You started to issue a hasty apology but, to your surprise, he didn’t look in any way put out. If anything, the crooked smile playing at his mouth only seemed to suggest amusement and the words died in your throat when he brought his hand up to poke at the pale indentation too.

“Shuriken.” He said, finally breaking the silence. “Friendly fire.”

Your brows lifted. “Really?”

Nodding, Shikaku abandoned the pale scar tissue in favor of squeezing your thigh. His palm was rough with thick calluses - yet more proof of his consistent training efforts - and wide enough to give the impression that even the plumpest part of your leg was a mere handful for him. It made you feel small and delicate by way of contrast, like something fragile under his touch, and you shuddered on top of him.

Your reaction did not escape his notice, the curve of his mouth taking on a more sly, knowing edge as he turned his head against the pillow to look at you from a different angle and size you up. “Back when I was still in the academy.” He explained. “Gods, that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? Just an accident during shuriken throwing practice though. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over.”

“I wasn’t worrying.” You insisted but you could tell he didn’t buy it. Huffing, you slouched forward and splayed your hands across his chest to cover the dense cluster of crisscrossed lines littering his sternum. “You just have so many ...”

“Do they make you uncomfortable?”

You thought about that for a moment. “No. They make me sad.”

Shikaku pinned you with a wry look of humor. “Whatever for? I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but I don’t like to think about you getting hurt.”

A warm, rumbling chuckle vibrated up through his chest to set your guts on fire, making your loins twist and curl in on themselves. You drew a steadying breath as your fingers flexed and the nails sunk into the smooth meat of his pecs. There was more give than you’d expected. It was the only indication you’d yet found that his hard earned muscle mass, as slight as it was, had begun to deteriorate with the passing of time. You wondered if anyone else had noticed yet. Then, in the same breath, you wondered why that knowledge excited you so much.

“Aren’t you sweet.” He murmured, distracting you from those thoughts when he palmed your rib cage between his hands. A gentle tug was all it took for him to drag you further up his body until you were perched on his stomach rather than his hips. The casual display of strength had your pussy fluttering in eager anticipation, clenching around little more than your own slick as Shikaku threaded his fingers through your hair and pulled you down into a kiss.

His lips were firm but soft against yours, molding to your mouth in a way that seemed to suggest you two had been made to perfectly fit one another. Leaning further into him, you sighed through your nose and kissed him back. You wanted to stay with Shikaku just like this forever. There wasn’t anywhere else you’d rather be than tangled up in bed with him. But, as all things must eventually come to an end, that brief exchange ended long before you were ready for it to.

“When you make that face, I feel like I should apologize.” He said against your mouth.

“What face?” You whispered.

“The one you’re making right now.” Shikaku kissed you again; a slow, lingering peck that inspired a shudder down your spine. Eyes that were such a dark shade of brown they looked black - true black - gleamed playfully at you from just a scant few millimeters away while he studied your expression. Taking in your every shallow breath, every minute muscle twitch, and neatly filing it away for later. “I just can’t stand to see you looking so sad because of me. I don’t think ‘sorry’ would actually make you feel any better though.”

You gave your head a small shake, allowing him to cup your face in the cradle of his palms. He was so gentle with you. Tender despite the calluses digging abrasively into your skin. You hadn’t thought a man like Shikaku actually existed until you’d found yourself working under him and subsequently, perhaps even inevitably, writhing under him in blissful ecstasy only a few short months later. It was almost too good to be true. A dream you never wanted to wake from.

“I don’t want your apologies.” You told him quietly.

“What would you have of me then?”

That was a question you didn’t have to stop and think about.

“You. I only want you.”

Leaning up, you pecked at his mouth and then his chin. The coarse hair of his beard tickled slightly as you trailed butterfly kisses along the curve of his jaw and cheek until you could press your lips to the scar slashing across the side of his face. You lingered there for a moment. Feeling the heat of him seeping through his skin and into you before pulling back just enough to speak. “If I could, I would kiss away all your scars. You look very handsome with them. Distinguished. But I wish you’d never gotten hurt in the first place.”

Shikaku turned his head and nuzzled into your hair, making the tip of his nose brush the outer shell of your ear. “That’s what it means to be a shinobi. You get hurt and learn from your mistakes.”

“You’ve made this many?” You asked

“And then some.”

A faint, masculine grunt later, you abruptly found yourself flipped over onto your back. The sudden rush of movement happened too fast for you to comprehend what was happening until you hit the futon with a half stifled gasp. Your eyes widened up at Shikaku as he moved over top of you, sinewy muscles under his skin dancing in a delightful display of subdued strength. With one elbow braced against the mattress, he brought his other hand down to slip under your thigh, grabbing a tight fistfull of doughy soft flesh and hiking your leg up into the air. The faltering groan that tumbled off your tongue sounded needy even to your own ears and you grabbed onto his shoulders with fingers poised like talons.

Shikaku’s mouth curled into a mischievous little smirk, never missing a beat as he settled between your hips. His pelvis slotted to yours seamlessly, almost like you were two pieces of the same puzzle. The unmistakable nudge of his stiff cock at your pussy lips had you arching against him and trying to curl your captured leg around his ribs; writhing in anticipation as much as you were basking in the immovable force he presented above you.

He pressed himself flush to you then and your breasts squished against his chest. The sweat slick friction to your nipples sent livewire sparks shooting throughout your body, setting every nerve ending to vibrate. You drew a haggard breath, mewling softly when he bent your leg higher and hooked your ankle over his shoulder. Effectively locking you into place.

Helpless, all you could do was flex your toes while Shikaku took his time slowly angling his hips back and forth, teasing you with the hard weight between his legs. Gliding it along the puffy slit of your labia and coaxing yet more arousal out of your gushing cunt. Prodding your clit with the ridged glans on every smooth, drawn out stroke. It was maddening and wonderful at the same time. You could feel every bump and vein on the underside of his cock as it drug against you, feel it twitching with the need to sink balls deep into your body. Pulsing with red hot desire. It was enough to drive you wild and you whined softly in the back of your throat.

“Shikaku … please ...”

He groaned encouragingly in response. “Please, what? Use your words, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes against the deep rumble of his voice, so gentle and soft despite the gruff note in his inflection. That alone would have been enough to send you over the edge if you’d allowed it. You could’ve listened to Shikaku speak for hours on end. This wasn’t how you wanted to find your release though and you squirmed, lifting your other leg to throw it over the small of his back and draw him closer. Trying to make him slip inside you.

It was no good though. Shikaku was as stubborn as a mule when he put his mind to it and there likely wasn’t a person alive who could force him to do something he didn’t want. He merely issued another low, carnal chuckle that made your pussy flutter and spasm, grinding his cock against you with more concentrated thrusts. Slipping and sliding through your drenched folds as if he were well and truly fucking you now.

You were entirely at his mercy, so wet for him that it bordered on obscene, and you shook as you threw your head back against the pillows with a half choked sob. “Please! I want you to take me … I need it ...”

“Is that so?” Humming his approval, Shikaku dipped his face down and kissed the tender column of your throat. His beard scratched and tickled, leaving a burning trail in its wake as he worked his way over the line of your jaw and higher still until he could capture your lips again. This exchange was far more heated than the last, more demanding, and you keened into his mouth when the head of his cock bumped your clit with growing insistence.

Trembling, you tore your mouth from his and gasped. “Don’t make me cum like this! I want to feel you inside of me! Please, Shikaku! Please cum inside me!”

He groaned, tense and halting as a shudder rippled down his spine. You could feel every inch of him rolling with it, not unlike the motion of a cresting wave, and your breath hitched as he adjusted the position of your leg over his shoulder. Shikaku shimmied a little lower then and leaned into you with his weight. His cock found your entrance through muscle memory alone, or perhaps instinct, and you tried to arch against him, eager for the sear of penetration. He had you so thoroughly pinned that it was no use though. Your only available option was to cling to him all the more desperately while he impaled you straight down the middle one excruciating fraction at a time. Forcing you to comprehend each inch of him that entered you in daunting slow motion.

You seethed. He had you wound so tight that you weren’t sure how much more of this teasing you could stand. The ache inside you only seemed to double down and grow more intense the further he sunk into your contracting passage, stretching you wide around his girth. It felt good. So good it almost hurt and tears of pleasure welled up along your lash line, blurring your view of Shikaku’s marred face. You tried to blink them away to no avail. He made you feel whole and complete; filling you up and taking you just shy of the breaking point. Reaching deep inside and touching parts of you that no other man had ever even come close to brushing against. It was overwhelming in the best possible way and you sucked in a ragged breath as his hand came up to cradle the side of your face, shaking.

“There you go looking sad again.” He murmured, settling against you at long last with an accompanying grunt and a wet squelch.

“I - I’m not …”

“I know, baby. I know. Shh.” Leaning close, Shikaku kissed the corner of your trembling lips. Those dark, dark irises studied you up close - taking in the flutter of your lashes, the moisture wetting your eyes, the way your brows furrowed and jumped in wonderful agony. You were sure he could see all of you in that moment, right down to your very soul. “You’re still so sensitive even after all this time. What am I ever going to do with you? Hm?”

A hiccuping moan was your only forthcoming response. You couldn’t seem to get your mouth to cooperate but that didn’t appear to bother him and you were grateful for that.

Smiling faintly, Shikaku backed off just enough to push up onto his elbow. His body, beautiful in its imperfection, flexed and roiled above you. The weight of his cock gradually retreated until you were sure he’d slip right out of you before surging forward again on a single, powerful thrust. You jerked at the intense pleasure that spiderwebbed through you, gasping and groaning. Your pussy flexed, squeezing around him in gooey palpitations that made his breath come a little harder. A little faster.

His mouth fell open with a barely audible groan, his expression pinched while he watched your face twist up in ecstasy. It looked like he was holding himself back. There was a bead of sweat forming on his brow, right above the scar gouged into his temple and you lifted a trembling hand to wipe it away. Shikaku readily leaned into the warmth of your palm, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment.

They opened again when he angled his hips back and locked onto yours as he drove into you on another powerful thrust. He didn’t pause to let you adjust this time; quickly taking on a steady rhythm of long strokes and sharp, pointed jabs that had you seeing stars. It felt like he was punching the air right out of your lungs and your breathless cries rapidly rose to join the deafening noise of skin clapping against skin. The humiliating schlucking sound of your cunt sucking him in deep on every downward lunge seemed loud between your bodies and only added to the lewd cacophony filling the space between you two. It echoed inside your head and seemed to heighten your arousal that much more, sending you barreling blindly towards the edge of oblivion. It was as if he intuitively knew how to hit that spot inside you at just the perfect angle and, as usual, you were powerless to stop it even if you’d wanted to.

“Shi - Shikaku!”

The breath puffing out of him grew more labored, straining against the exertion. “Go on, baby. Let it go. I’ve got you.”

You screwed your eyes shut and curled into him, holding on for dear life as the pressure in your loins rapidly mounted and threatened to suffocate you. Nails digging into long damaged flesh. The tension weighing heavy on all your muscles. Your leg quaking uncontrollably where it was stretched right to the edge of real discomfort over his shoulder. The delicious burn of his cock carving out a space within you one relentless thrust at a time. His sweat damp hips driving into the backs of your thighs with loud, wet smacks. The smell of him, intoxicating and woodsy. It was too much. You could feel the heat of your orgasm bubbling over, reaching critical mass, and your hands flew up to cover your face as you shrieked in delight.

“Let me see you, sweetheart.” Shikaku’s voice rumbled above you. “Don’t hide from me.”

His long fingers curled around your wrist in the next moment, gentle and coaxing. You let him tug that hand away from your flushed cheek, watching as if through a daze when he pressed your knuckles to his chest, but the other slipped back to tangle in your own hair. You could feel his heart pounding out an erratic rhythm against his ribs and he was looking at you like you were the only woman he’d ever known. Like you were the only one that mattered. Your stomach flipped over itself and, just like that, the coil snapped.

Arching so hard that you caught a sharp pop in your lower back, you threw your head against the pillows and wailed. The fingers in your hair clenched, desperate for something to hold onto while you shook with the force of your release. But the tug to your scalp only seemed to highlight the intense bursts of pleasure radiating from your cunt, making you cry out with more fervor.

As you shattered around him, Shikaku slowed to a standstill. Panting and tense with the effort of holding his own release at bay but content to let you ride out the waves of pleasure on his cock. He stayed lodged deep inside your pulpy cunt, just watching you writhe on him and shuddering each time your contracting walls spasmed and squeezed like a vice grip. All the while, you twisted and lurched, realizing in a far off, dreamy sort of way what he was doing but you were too far gone to care. It wasn’t nearly enough to dampen the sharp twangs of ecstasy cascading over your heaving body and you groaned dazedly when you started to come down from the high some moments later.

It took even longer to find your voice and when you finally tried to speak, your voice was thick with the lingering traces of your ograsm. “You never cum when I do …”

A short, breathless laugh rang out through the statically charged air. “I like to make sure you’re satisfied first, that’s all. Is that so wrong?”

You turned your head to regard the far wall, feigning a pout. “Am I one of them?”

“One of what?” He sounded mildly perplexed now and you couldn’t really blame him for not knowing what you were talking about. You felt silly even bringing it up again but you had to know. For your own peace of mind.

“One of your mistakes.”

Carefully taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Shikaku manually turned you back around to look at him. The fond look of exasperation you found peering down at you wasn’t what you’d been expecting - especially not when he was still flushed and sticky from having sex - but it made your heart skip a beat anyway. He was everything you could have ever hoped for and then some.

“You know you’re not. What a silly thing to say.” He muttered, craning his neck down to kiss you again in a lazy, lingering exchange that was as possessive as it was comforting. His lips curled against yours when you enthusiastically returned the gesture, leaning up to meet him, but he was quick to pull back and pin you with a knowing little smirk. “If you don’t think I’m paying you enough attention, all you had to do was say so. We can fix that right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You said, trying and failing to wipe the grin off your face.

“Even so,” His expression took on an almost boyish, mischievous edge as he grabbed onto your other ankle and hefted that one up over his shoulder too, effectively bending you in half like a pretzel. “How about we rectify it anyway?”

Your heart thumped wildly inside your chest when the change in position made him feel that much bigger inside you. The glans pressed tight into your spongy inner wall, sending fresh waves of exquisite pressure shooting throughout the sensitized nerves, and you groaned. This was certainly going to be another long, sleepless night and you couldn’t have been any happier about that prospect.

“Please, Shikaku. Please pay attention to me.” You gasped.

“As you wish, princess.”

♥♥♥♥

Link to fic on AO3: Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069682

#naruto #shikaku nara #shikaku x reader #self insert bullshit #my writing

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darkestfable · 3 years

Text

The End

((Thank you to @kidcatgemini for helping me with such a...painful RP. CW: blood, death, mind control))

“I’m sorry, babe, I gotta go. They gave me these orders and-” Raetos heaved a sigh, tightening the rifle over his shoulder. He didn’t want to leave Fable alone, but he knew his lover couldn’t go with him.

“I know, I know. It ain’t gonna be forever. Jus’ go do what you gotta do ‘n when you get home we’ll make up for lost time, yeah?” the blood hunter smiled up at his lover, pulling him down by his chest piece for a kiss. It lasted for a little longer than he meant to, got a little more heated than he’d anticipated.

“I love you.” “I’ll miss you too, Raetos.”

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

Restlessness set in much faster than the blood hunter had anticipated. One night alone and he was chomping at the bit to do...anything. All the maps were updated as best as he could, spelling errors in the survival guide master copy had been edited. Fable couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. There had to be an outlet for the nervous energy.

There was a small dig in Feralas that he’d spotted in Brent’s itinerary, back when they were talking about locations. Fable knew the forest fairly well, enough that there wouldn’t be much he’d have to guard himself against. That would work just fine as a distraction, and he’d be back in a matter of a few days at most. His foxes, Connor and Kenway, could help keep predators away from the homestead while he was gone, but someone would have to feed them…

Vandrir.

The druid he’d interviewed for his old group would be a perfect caretaker for the animals! During the interview, Vandrir had mentioned that he wasn’t an expert at things, but more of a jack of all trades. And well, if Raetos could manage Obligation and Responsibility, Fable was certain a druid could.

Thankfully, he’d agreed without hesitation.

Now that all of the plans were made, Fable was able to head out to Feralas and simply enjoy being in the field, hands in the dirt, mud on his knees…

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

The sun was high in the sky, filtering through the thick canopy of the trees older than he was. It was warm and humid, and Fable had ditched his shirt a long time ago to continue moving earth. Survey equipment taken from his old job was still serving him well, and had pointed him to this exact location. The hole was waist deep on him, but the corner of a box that he’d uncovered had given way to the rest of it; a perfect cube that had almost been lost to the land again. Fable could feel the magic radiating off of it, enough to make his fingers tingle. This would be fun to transport back…

“Mmm…if only all archeologists were as handsome as you,” a melodious voice spoke up from behind him.

A Ren’dorei woman sat on a rock a few paces away, legs crossed and leaning back on her hands. To say she was attractive was an understatement, and she dressed to show off every aspect of her features; tight shorts with thigh high boots and a low cut crop top. Her deep blue eyes and pink lips were absolutely captivating against her lavender skin. Purple hair with glowing blue tips cascaded down to mid back. Not a blemish or scar could be seen on her smooth skin. It was impossible to tell how long she’d been sitting there, or even how she’d arrived.

Her head tilted in interest at Fable, a playful smile on her lips.

“But then, I suppose we wouldn’t get much work done, would we, Sweetie?”

Fable looked up from the artifact, squinting at the figure perched on the rock. His glowing blue eyes travelled every inch of her form, clearly appreciating it. She was absolutely stunning, and were it before his relationship with Raetos, he’d have completely abandoned the dig to go flirt. Instead, the blood hunter got to his feet, wiping some sweat from his cheek(and leaving a smear of dirt in its wake).

“Not with women like you runnin’ ‘round, that’s for damned sure. Did you need somethin’, or you jus’ here t’ watch me work?” Fable smirked. He had questions about her arrival, for sure, but the tight shirt distracted his mind quite well.

“Would it make me a bad girl if I were here for the later?” she asked, almost innocently, “Actually, I was surveying a site, just north of here, for a client. Then I came across a hot shirtless guy playing in the dirt.”

Uncrossing her legs, she got up from where she was sitting and strolled over to the edge of where Fable was digging, hips swaying as she went. There, she got down on her hands and knees, both to be eye level with Fable, but also to give him a better view of her cleavage.

“Decided I wanted a closer look, so here I am,” her eyes left his to shamelessly take in every inch of his physique, “So, what’s your name, handsome?”

“Must’ve been kinna like Winter’s Veil mornin’ for you then,” the blood hunter chuckled, watching her every move. Not like she was a threat, but like she was a meal. He couldn’t help it, even if he knew in the back of his mind that she was doing it on purpose.

“Th’ name ‘s Fable, gorgeous. Do I get to know yours, since you’re enjoyin’ the show?”

Fable hung his thumbs in his waistband, effectively tugging the dirty black pants down just a little more in the front. There was no danger in flirting, right? Showing off as much as she was? Of course his lover was in the back of his mind, and he’d never seriously go through with anything. Of course.

“You dig too? Uh oh, sounds like you’re competition…”

“Oh?” the woman perked an eyebrow, her ears flickering playfully, “Well, good news for you, hmm? You’re competition’s been distracted. She decided to come get dirty elsewhere.”

She bit down on her bottom lip lightly as her eyes absolutely ate up the little bit of extra skin he allowed her to see of his waistline. She leaned in as her piercing blue eyes moved up to meet his again, to the point where her lips were but an inch away from his.

“My name’s Cebina, Sweetie. Feel like taking a break to play with a pretty lady?”

His own lips parted as he let out a slow breath, clearly struggling. He had a job to do, he had a boyfriend for which he cared very deeply. Fable shook his head a bit, smiling and ready to take a step back. If he didn’t remove himself from her aura of seduction, he knew he’d make a very big mistake. The blood hunter’s hands tightened at the waist of his pants, trying to maintain control.

“You ain’t got th’ faintest idea of how much I wanna play with you, but uh…” his voice trailed off, and he vaguely motioned to the artifact with his head. “And I kinda got a boyfriend I ain’t lookin’ t’ cheat on.”

Cebina moved in before he had the chance to step back. Arms wrapping around his neck as she brought her body down into the small space with him. A hand gripped the back of his head, keeping his gaze on her as she pressed her body against him. That playful, seductive grin never faded. There was a flicker in her glowing eyes, something that seemed to nudge at his mind.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie. Doesn’t have to go all the way. A bit of fooling around never hurt anyone, hmm?”

With that, she attempted to capture his mouth with hers.

Any protests were swallowed in the kiss, Fable’s willpower breaking. His hands went to her hips then before sliding around her waist to pull her close. Her skin felt electric everywhere he touched, and Fable didn't hesitate to back her against the side of the hole, dirt crumbling around their feet.

His subconscious was screaming alerts that his conscious mind was deaf to.

One of the blood hunter's hands slid over Cebina's hip, down to her thigh. Strong fingers hooked under her leg and lifted as he shifted his hips to get between them. Fable was running on instinct, caught like a moth with a flame.

Cebina moaned into the kiss, more than pleased by Fable’s response. Her leg wrapped around his waist as she rolled her hips against him as the heat between them grew. Her other hand grasped the hair at the back of his head, wrenching it to the side to suck and bite at his neck.

While she had him well distracted, her other hand unsheathed an old and ornate looking dagger from her boot; easily reached with her leg up. She could feel his excitement and pent up energy swell. Part of her wished she could play a little longer, but her mind control only lasted for so long.

“—Oh, Sweety!” She cried as he buried his face between her neck and shoulder to repay the favor.

It was time.

It happened very quickly, shadows closed in on the two as the dagger pierced Fable’s upper back in one swift motion. Immediately, shadow magic poured into the wound, spreading through his system fast. The effect was painful, much more than physical… the spirit weapon grasping his very soul.

As the runic weapon continued its siphon, Cebina grabbed either side of her victim’s head to make eye contact one last time. By now, the shadows had enveloped her form completely. Her smile was wicked.

“Thanks for digging up the artifact for me.”

Fable’s mind was awash with pleasure. Everything felt hazy and floaty, akin to being drunk without the alcohol. He gasped pleasantly at the teeth in his neck, fingers tightening around Cebina’s leg. Nothing existed outside of her, outside of this. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, common sense screamed Raetos’ name, tried to remind Fable of his lover’s existence.

He might as well be deaf.

“You taste goo-” the blood hunter started to purr against her neck, but the words were frozen on his lips when the shadows washed over them both.

The first thing he felt was searing pain, the blade biting through flesh and muscle and into his lung, fitting neatly between ribs. Fable didn’t even get to stumble backwards, he was trapped and gasping for breath as the hurt spread through his body. Tears beaded and rolled from his eyes, pale blue gaze fixed on Cebina’s shadowed form. He barely managed to cough out a breath, blood running from the corner of his mouth.

His last act of defiance before his legs gave out was to spit blood at Cebina’s face. The blood hunter crumpled to the ground at her feet, wheezing. Fable’s very essence was being pulled from his body, and he couldn’t even scream. No one would find him out here so deep in Feralas, and he was breaking a promise he’d made to Raetos. He remembered their date, how he’d promised his lover that he’d not leave him.

“Raetos… I’m sorry…” Fable gasped out before his world went dark.

#story #rp log #death cw #blood cw #mind control cw #Cebina #Fable #Raetos #Vandrir

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animezing-fandoms · 4 years

Text

The Baby Race Chapter 5: Gray and Juvia’s Wedding

Masterlist

Warnings: Some implied smut.

Relationships: Gruvia, Nalu, Gajevy, Jerza.

Summary: It’s Gray and Juvia’s Wedding Day! And it’s full of love and other surprises too!

A/N: I'm sorry this was so late! I got caught up doing other stuff and forgot about this series for three months! But I'm hoping this chapter will be good enough to make up for it's lateness!

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

Natsu groans as sunlight hits his face in the morning. He felt something was off and he turned on his side and noticed that Lucy was missing. He got up out of bed, wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs and made his way downstairs to find Lucy cooking in the kitchen. Her hair was up in a bun and she was wearing one of his short sleeve t-shirts. Natsu quietly came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She tenses a bit in surprise, but she quickly remembers that it's him and calms down, relaxing in his hold and leaning against his bare chest.

"Good morning Lucy." He mumbles into her hair.

"Good morning Natsu." Lucy replies softly. "Did the smell of breakfast wake you up?"

"Actually it wasn't the smell of food but the absence of yours that woke me up." Natsu says.

Lucy blushes before Natsu looks over her shoulder to see what she's making.

"So why are you making pancakes so early in the morning?" Natsu asks.

"Because today is a big day remember?" Lucy reminds him.

"It is?" Natsu asks. "I don't remember having anything big planned for us today."

Lucy giggles from Natsu's ignorance.

"You were at Gray's bachelor party last night you big dummy! You should know what's going on today!" Lucy cheerfully reminds him.

Natsu looks stumped for a minute but then his face lights up when he remembers.

"Oh! It's Gray and Juvia's wedding today!" Natsu exclaims.

"Yep! And since I have some extra cash now that I don't have to pay rent anymore, I can spend as much as I want on food for the three of us." Lucy explains.

Natsu gasps softly and he gets a serious look on his face. He ran his hands along Lucy's lower-belly.

"Three of us?" He asks.

"Yeah..." Lucy says, confused by his tone and she looks over his shoulder to look at his face. "You, me, and Happy." She clarifies.

"Oh!" Natsu says and scratches the back of his head. "Right. I forgot about him for a second."

Lucy arches an eyebrow and returns to flipping the pancakes.

"I hope you can pull your head out of the clouds soon. Right after breakfast we need to go help Gray and Juvia get ready." Lucy reminds him.

"If I pull my head out of the clouds can I put it in-between your legs?" Natsu asks.

Lucy gasps and almost drops her spatula from Natsu's dirty comment.

"Natsu!" She exclaims and gasps when she feels Natsu's hands against her skin under her shirt.

"N-Natsu, w-we don't...have time." She breathlessly protests as Natu's hands started to get grabby.

"I can make it quick." He mumbles against her neck where he left her tender kisses.

"But then we'll burn breakfast." Lucy giggles.

"I can still eat it if it's burnt." Natsu reminds her.

Lucy was about to protest but then his mouth found that sensitive spot on her neck and she caved.

"Fine. You win you lustful animal, now make it quick." She moans.

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

After the little escapade that morning Lucy was in her blue bridesmaid gown with the other Fairy Tail ladies helping Juvia get ready for the ceremony.

Erza, the maid of honor, took her role seriously and made sure that everything was perfect down to the last detail. That's why Juvia picked Erza for this role, she wanted this day that she's been dreaming of since she met Gray to be perfect and Erza would definitely make sure of that. While Juvia stood on the fitting stage in her wedding gown, Erza was checking every flower pot in the room and making sure Juvia's dress was free of any tears or blemishes.

Juvia stood on the fitting stage in a long, white, strapless gown with matching white sleeves that went up to her mid-upper arm, lining up with edge of the bodice that pushed up her already ample bosom a bit more, making her cleavage more defined than it already was. The bodice was patterned with sparkling snowflakes that framed the edges of it as well before the pattern turned into raindrops that ran along the length of the skirt. The sleeves were decorated in the same pattern, snowflakes bleeding into raindrops. And to tie it altogether, Juvia wore a tiara with raindrop-shaped gems in it and Levy held a veil that had sparkling snowflakes as well.

"Levy, I've diverted some of your tasks for the wedding today for Lucy." Erza informs her. "You're due to have the twins any day now and I wouldn't want you doing anything strenuous that could trigger your labor."

"Don't worry Erza. When these two birds are ready to leave the nest I'll definitely know." Levy assures her before going up onto the fitting stage to give Juvia her veil.

"You know, Juvia I was worried that as today got closer and closer that you'd get more stressed and nervous but instead it seems like the opposite has happened. It's like you've been glowing brighter and brighter these past few weeks." Levy comments as she places the veil on Juvia's head.

"Yes, Juvia has felt different lately." She says and smiles at the ground in thought.

"Do you think Gray-sama will find Juvia pretty?" Juvia asks.

"Do you even have to ask Juvia?" Cana slurs before taking another long swig of alcohol from her flask.

The other bridesmaids frowned. They were certain that they had taken Cana's flask away from her before coming into the dressing room.

"Look at you girl! You're gorgeous! If anything Gray's gonna get a huge boner as soon as he sees you! In fact, all of the guys at the ceremony probably will too! Even the Priest!" Cana jokes.

"Oh no!" Juvia exclaims. "Juvia does not want Gray-sama getting an erection for her in front of the whole guild!"

"I mean it's not like he hasn't already-" Cana starts before the other girls shush her.

"Juvia you're just nervous about the ceremony and that anxiety is putting crazy thoughts in your head." Lucy says. "Don't worry about a thing. Gray's going to think you're beautiful and the ceremony's going to go off without a hitch I promise!"

"Well then if you're sure nothing can go wrong, then Juvia is ready to become Gray-sama's wife!" Juvia declares.

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

Inside the sanctuary, all of the Fairy Tail guild members were seated in their assigned rows and Gray and his groomsmen stood at the altar with the priest. Juvia would be coming through those big double doors any minute now and Gray was nervous as hell. The sound of his foot tapping against the marble floor echoed throughout the walls and it was starting to piss Natsu off.

"Hey will you quit it with the tap dancing already ice princess? It's really starting to get on my nerves!" Natsu scolds him.

"Get on your nerves? How do you think my nerves feel? I'm about to bare my soul to the woman I love in front of all of our friends and family! So forgive me for being a little tense!" Gray barks back.

"Really? That's what scares ya? I thought you'd be more worried about stripping in front of everyone by accident." Natsu teases.

"I would be if you didn't take care of that problem for me." Gray reminds them. "How did you do that by the way?"

"I lined the inside of your tux with double sided tape." Happy says and holds up a roll as he floats overhead. "There's no way you'll be able to take it off now that it's stuck to your skin!"

"Well yeah that's helpful for now but how am I supposed to take it off for my wedding night?" Gray asks and Happy sulks.

"Whoops. Natsu and I didn't think of that." Happy says sheepishly.

"You imbeciles!" Gray scolds them.

"That's enough you two." Lyon says. "The bride will be coming any minute, and I doubt she'll want to walk down the aisle to the sound of you two arguing."

"What the hell are you even doing here anyway Lyon?" Natsu asks. "Did you come here for one last chance to steal Juvia away from Gray?"

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it." Lyon says. "That would be horribly rude to my dear friend Gray, especially since I am his best man."

Natsu scoffs.

"You ain't the best man here! I could take you down in three punches right now if I wasn't so terrified of what Erza said she would do to me if I wrecked this place before the wedding." Natsu says and shivers.

"Natsu that's not what it means." Gray says. "The best man is a role the groom assigns someone for their wedding. The best man is the one who gives a speech about the groom at the reception and he organizes the bachelor party and helps me out in any other way I need it."

"Ew that sounds like a lot of work all for nothing." Natsu complains.

"It's not all for nothing. Marriage is a very important and special milestone for a couple. This ceremony represents Gray and Juvia's undying love for each other, and how they are pledging themselves to each other for life in front of all of their friends and family, so that we can all celebrate in the joy that is true love together. Once this ceremony commences you'll see that for yourself." Lyon explains.

Natsu frowns in thought before the organ starts playing and everyone stands and faces the large double doors that were opening.

Wendy enters first, wearing her cute blue flower girl dress, and she tosses rose petals down the aisle as she makes her way towards the alter.

Then the bridesmaids enter and Natsu, Gajeel and Jellal blush when they see how pretty their girls look in their bridesmaid dresses.

But the gasp of awe was audible when Juvia enters through the doors. Everyone was taken aback in awe of how beautiful she looked. Gray was frozen where he stood, unable to take his eyes off of her as Gajeel took her hand and walked her down the aisle.

Originally it was supposed to be Makarov who would hand Juvia off to Gray. But Juvia requested that it be Gajeel instead since she's known him the longest out of anyone in Fairy Tail and he was like a big brother to her.

When Juvia finally reaches the alter, Gray's hand was shaking as he held it out for Gajeel to place Juvia's into. He couldn't believe how radiantly beautiful she looked right now. She was like an ice goddess, and she was about to become his wife.

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you." Gajeel sneers.

All Gray could do was gulp and nod as Gajeel gave him his blessing and places Juvia's hand in his and Gray brings her up to the alter to stand beside him, the whole time unable to take his eyes off of her.

"Beautiful..." he whispers to her as the Priest begins the ceremony.

After what felt like an eternity they reached the end of the ceremony. Now it was time for the vows. Juvia volunteered to go first.

"Gray-sama, before Juvia met you her world was a never ending storm. There was literally a raincloud over her head everywhere she went. Juvia always longed to find love one day, but no man she ever met had the power to love the rain. As time went on, she feared that nothing could ever chase the clouds away. But then everything changed the minute Juvia met you darling. It was love at first sight and from that moment Juvia knew that you were different. Juvia knew that if anyone was meant to be her soulmate, it was you. And sure enough, you were the one that chased the clouds away and let Juvia see the sun. All these years Juvia has known you have been the happiest of Juvia's life. Even if at first you ignored her, Juvia was still happy just being by your side. Juvia could have gone her whole life without you ever loving her back and she would have been happy, but then one day, you did and Juvia did not know she could feel even happier than she already did but she does. This is better than any romantic fantasy Juvia has ever thought of because this moment is real for both Juvia and Gray-sama. Juvia has been devotedly in love with her Gray-sama since the moment she met him and she will stay by his side forever as his wife."

Gray was tearing up during her speech as was everyone else in the guild. Gray wipes away his tears before continuing with his own vows.

"I know that I used to be pretty cold to you, and I mean hey, I am an ice wizard, that's to be expected."

That earned a laugh from the crowd.

"After I lost my master I encased my heart in ice, I was worried that if I let anyone get too close I'd get hurt again when they left. So when you attached yourself to me after we first met it scared me. I didn't want to get attached to anyone or let anyone get attached to me, because I always thought I'd sacrifice myself for the guild someday, and I didn't want you to get hurt. But then time went on, we went through a lot and then the relentless stream of your love finally cracked the ice around my heart. I realized your love gave me a reason to want to live. When I look at you I see the future Juvia. I want to spend the rest of my life with you at my side, and I swear I'll love you until the day I die and even beyond that. You have my word Juvia, not just as a wizard of Fairy Tail but as your husband who loves you more than anything in the world."

Now everyone in the guild was full on sniffling and some were crying. They'd never heard Gray say something so emotional before, and they were all feeling the effects of it.

Juvia's bottom lip was trembling before she burst out crying tears of joy and threw her arms around Gray and hugged him tight. But because she was a water wizard, the sanctuary was starting to flood.

"Hey Gray get a handle on your wife before she drowns us all!" Droy exclaims from the pews.

"Hey she's not my wife yet!" Gray reminds him.

"No, but she will be now." The Priest says.

"Juvia Loxar, do you take Gray Fullbuster to be your husband?"

"Yes! She does!" Juvia exclaims without hesitation.

"And Gray Fullbuster do you take Juvia Loxar to be your wife?"

"I do!" Gray declares while looking into her tear-soaked eyes.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride!" The Priest announces.

Juvia and Gray's mouths met the second he finished that sentence. Gray held her in his arms and they kissed each other deeply as their guildmates cheered around them and the church bells rang.

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

As if it was a sign from the universe blessing Gray and Juvia's union, it snowed during the reception. The cold didn't bother Gray and Juvia since they were both fairly used to it by now. But everyone else felt a little bit chilly so Natsu went around and made some campfires for people to gather around to keep warm. But he made sure that Lucy was extra warm by draping his jacket over her shoulders and lending her his scarf while she waited in the crowd of other bridesmaids to catch the bouquet that Juvia was about to throw. To Erza's delight, she was the one to catch it, and Jellal's face was bright red as she looked back at him with a look of pure joy on her face. He loved how adorable she looked when she was happy.

Lucy was partially disappointed that she wasn't the one to catch the bouquet. But knowing Natsu, it was probably going to be a long time before the thought of marriage crossed his mind. Or so she thought.

"Hey Lucy." Natsu says, catching her attention. "Have you ever thought about getting married?"

Lucy gasps and looks at him with wide eyes.

"Uh...why are you asking?" Lucy replies softly.

"I dunno really." Natsu says and shrugs. "I guess it's because this is the first wedding I've ever seen before, and seeing Gray and Juvia up there today exchanging rings and vows to each other made me wonder if that's something that's important to a relationship."

"Well, if you grew up the way I did then yeah it is. But when I was growing up, marriage was less about love and more about money. Sure when I was little I had dreams of falling in love with a handsome Prince Charming who would sweep me off of my feet and marry me. But, those days and that life are behind me now. Stuff like that doesn't matter to me as much anymore. Maybe because instead of ending up with the Prince, I ended up with the dragon." Lucy giggles.

Natsu smirks then looks at Lucy lovingly as she perks up and begins writing something down on a napkin, claiming that she just got some inspiration for a new story.

Then Lyon clinks his glass and everyone quickly raises theirs to toast to the new Mr. and Mrs. Fullbuster.

To Gray's surprise Juvia raised her glass of water to the toast instead of her champagne fluke.

"You avoiding the alcohol tonight so you don't get drunk and strip in front of everyone?" Gray asks.

"No. Although that is part of the reason." Juvia admits. "Juvia is not drinking because Porlyusica said that would be unwise for someone in my condition."

"What?" Gray asks, worry creeping onto his face. "Juvia are you sick?"

"No. Juvia is in perfect health, and so is the baby inside of her..." She says and blushes while holding her hand over her womb.

"You're pregnant!" Gray exclaims.

Everyone in the guild gasped, hearing Gray's outburst and turning towards the couple.

"Yes, Juvia has Gray-sama's baby inside of her." She repeats.

"Juvia don't say it like that it's just as much yours as it is mine..." Gray says softly and places his hand over her womb and she places hers over his.

"Just when I thought I couldn't get any happier tonight." He says before kissing her deeply while everyone congratulates him and Juvia on starting their family.

"Ugh! Finally!" Natsu exclaims and lays down on the table. "I've been smelling that bun in Juvia's oven for weeks! It's been killing me not to say anything to ice princess!"

"Hey uh, while we're on the topic of babies!" Levy shouts. "I think this would be a good time to let everyone know that mine are coming! Now. My water just broke!"

And then there was another collective gasp as everyone saw the puddle under Levy's chair.

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

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! Please comment if you liked this!

#fairy tail #gruvia #nalu #gajevy #gale #jerza #gray fullbuster #juvia loxar #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #lyon vastia #Jellal Fernandes #erza scarlet

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wolvesofinnistrad · 5 years

Text

Soulmarks AU part 1

Everyone get’s their soul mark around 16, it’s just common fact.

When Alec turns 16 he scours his body for anything, a small blemish, anything to let him know where his soul mate will first touch him but he can’t find anything.

He’s always feared this day, but before he was worried that it’d be a large handprint or something else that let others know he was gay.

Now he worries he doesn’t have a soul mate at all.

His family tries to console him, that maybe he’s a late bloomer, that maybe his mate isn’t born yet and that’s why he hasn’t gotten one.

That idea is almost worse that he’d be that much older than his mate.

It’s almost 3 months before he realizes he does have a soul mark, it’s just in a place he’s been studiously avoiding.

He’s in the shower, trying to block out the thoughts that always come to him there when he happens to glance down and something looks, strange.

Trembling fingers reach down and brush away the thick hair before he gasps.

He tells himself its just water from the shower streaming down his cheeks, but even he can’t believe that.

It’s hard to see, and afterwards he has to go steal a mirror from Izzy just to be able to see it better, but once he can see more he realizes what it is.

Most people’s marks show up on their hands, handshakes, high fives, things like that being first touches.

Next most common are things like arms, face and back, then less common legs, feet, chest, etc.

Least common are what are called the sexual marks, when your soul mates first touch is somewhere like a breast, your ass, your genitals.

Alec would have never guessed his soul mark would be the shape of lips around the base of his cock.

The moment it fully hits him he finally gives in to the urges he’s fought so long, because he can’t stop thinking about what it means, who it means.

of course he also wonders how in the world the first touch of his soul mate is him being blown.

He can’t imagine any future where he’s confident enough that his first touch with someone is like that.

Some nights he wonders how it’s going to happen and it both scares and thrills him.

It’s barely two weeks before Jace can’t take noticing Alec’s shy, private smiles when he thinks no one is looking and corners him about it.

Alec doesn’t want to admit it at first, but finally he tells Jace, who as usual is incredulous.

“There’s no WAY your soul mark is a stage 3. NO way!”

Alec, feeling the need to reassure himself it’s real, show just the very hint of it to Jace who promptly loses his mind.

“Your soul mark is LIPS around your COCK!”

Unfortunately his parents happen to hear Jace shouting this which leads to some absolutely mortifying discussions.

After that things slip back to normal, although he always feels the weight of it in others gazes if they know, wondering if he’s going to be some kind of slut that he has a mark like that.

Alec waits and waits, hoping that somehow his mate will find him without any outward mark and his own closeted status, but by the time he’s 24 he’s still a virgin and not out to anyone but his sister so he’s kind of given up hope.

And then Jace begins dating a girl named Clary and starts dragging Alec with him to meet her friends.

They aren’t soul mates, and Alec feels like it’s a waste to get that invested, but he’s trying to be supportive for his brother.

Clary’s best friend, Simon, has just recently met his soulmate Raphael and the group, consisting of them, Alec, Clary, Jace, and then Raphael’s friends Magnus and Meliorn sit around talking when the topic of soul mark comes up.

Jace’s mark is a hand print on his face, which everyone thinks is hilarious and, knowing Jace, seems fitting that his mate would slap him.

Clary’s is the more common hand mark from a greeting.

Simon and Raphael had SImon’s wrist and Raphael’s neck.

Melliorn also has his entire hand marked.

Only Magnus and Alec are left and before Magnus can say anything Jace buts in.

“If we’re really talking interesting soul marks Alec has-”

Alec roughly shoves Jace “Shut up.”

“Oh come on. It’s the best soul makr I’ve ever seen. Well, half seen since you won’t let me see the rest of it.”

“I’m nto showing my brother my...” Alec starts before stopping himself, groaning as he’s already given too much away.

“Show your brother what exactly? Alexander, do you have a sexual mark?” Magnus asks, voice playfully coy.

Alec tries to deny it, but Jace is grinning and nodding like a madman and Alec tosses a pillow at his head.

“Oh I HAVE to know what it is now Alec!” Simon is practically rabid to find out and Alec is pretty sure he’d rather die than discuss this.

“If you don’t tell them I will.”

“You’re a horrible brother.”

“My mark is me being slapped, and yours is what yours is, tell me who got the rough end?”

Sighing Alec finally gives in. He dutifully avoids everyone’s gaze as he begins. “My mark is... A pair of lips...”

“Where?” Magnus asks.

Magnus himself has his mark on his lips, but it’s covered up by lipstick at the moment, so it piques his interest.

Not that he thinks Alec is his soul mate, the man is so stuffy that he has to be straight.

Alec groans, glancing to Jace who is on the verge of tears with silent laughter.

“It’s a pair of lips around... Around my cock. Like my mate is giving me a blowjob...”

There’s a roar of laughter as the entire group breaks out over this revelation.

“And she must be really good too, because I’ve seen Alec in underwear, he’s a big boy to be lips at the base.”

Jace actually gets punched in the arm at that by Alec, but Magnus doesn’t miss the weird twitch Alec gives off when Jace says “she”

“Laugh it up, at least I’m getting sucked off by my mate...” Alec finally says, trying to salvage some of his reputation, even if he can’t believe he’s just said that.

Once everyone calms down Clary turns to Magnus, “So what is yours Magnus?”

All eyes turn to him before Magnus smiles and grabs a napkin.

“Funny enough, mine is also lip related,” he says with a smirk. Slowly he wipes away his bright purple lipstick to reveal dark soul marks covering his entire lips.

Alec can’t help but gulp and cough, because while he could clearly just be kissing his mate, there’s no mistaking that Alec has always known his own soul mate would have to have their soul mark covering their lips.

And, well, Magnus is the most gorgeous man he’s ever met, evne if he’s done his best to barely look at him.

Except now that he’s heard that he can’t do anyhting but look at him, having to pry his eyes away.

Magnus eventually catches him and he looks away, feeling heat creep into his cheeks, but when he glances back Magnus is still staring at him.

Alec is thankful that Raphael says he needs to go soon after, and since he drove most of them here, that means they have to leave.

Everyone exchanges pleasantries as they prepare to leave.

IN an attempt to be a little shit, Meliorn gently pats Jace on his cheek as he leaves with a playful “see you around blondie.”

It’s only a moment later when Jace and Meliorn both freeze as Meliorn walks away that everyone stops to stare at them.

Jace is touching his face with just his fingertips, right over his soul mark.

As they watch the mark begins to fade.

Meliorn turns around looking confused, his hand raised as his mark is fading at the same rate.

“I’m not even gay, what the fuck?!” Jace shouts as he turns to Meliorn.

Meliorn just smirks, “Wouldn’t be the first straight boy I’ve turned.”

Alec is, not surprisingly, the most shocked of anyone that isn’t Jace, since he’s never even heard Jace mention another man was attractive as a joke.

“This... Cannot be happening,” Jace says, looking from Meliorn to Clary

“Like, it has to be a mistake right, right Alec?”

Alec just stares at Jace, then to Meliorn and back to Jace. “Uh, I’ve never heard of a soul mark disappearing without meeting your mate and having it touched.”

“If its any consolation, plenty of people don’t realize their latent bisexual tendencies until later in life,” Magnus says, “I mean I’ve always known I was a raging bisexual, but it’s not as easy for others.”

Hearing that definitely make Alec’s stomach flip, but he tries to ignore it.

“But, if I was gay I could do so much better...” Jace says, let down..

“Like I’d have picked a puny blond white fucboi as my mate?” Meliorn says, but he’s grinning.

“Shut it you asshole!”

“Make me.”

“Oh I’ll make you I’ll shut your entire mouth up I’ll...” Jace stops, realizing he’s gotten right in Meliorn’s face.

“Uh... I, what I meant was, um,” Jace panics, but before he can do anything to back away Meliorn grabs him and kisses him hard.

For about 3 seconds Jace seems like he’s going to bolt, then he very clearly moans and grips Meliorn’s arm and kisses back.

Alec’s jaw drops, Clary looks like she’s about to cry, Magnus and SImon are both cheering and Raphael looks bored.

When they finally break apart Jace looks dazed, it takes him a minute to process before he turns to the group and simply says “Well, I’m definitely Bi.”

Clary actually starts crying then, running off and Magnus gives one last lingering look at Alec that makes Alec’s heart beat faster before running after her.

Alec goes home alone, laying in bed wondering how both he and Jace didn’t realize this. He tells Izzy only enough that she knows Jace broke up with Clary at the party and that Clary, who she still hasn’t met, was inconsolable.

The next day he sees Jace trying to sneak in the house before breakfast and he opens the door for him and hands him some coffee.

“Really? The first night Jace? Yesterday you didn’t even think you were attracted to guys.”

Jace has hickies all over his neck, along with what look like bite marks.

“What can I say, I’m a fast learner.” He winks at Alec and takes a long swig of coffee..

“Besides, like you can talk Mr. my girl is gonna suck me off the first time we meet.”

“Not my girl.”

“I mean she’ll be your girl after it happens.”

“No, I mean. It’d be my guy. My soulmate has to be a guy, I’m gay Jace.”

“WHAT?!”

“Why do you sound more shocked to find out I’m gay than you did to find out you yourself were bi?”

“Because you’re... You! You're like, the straightest person I know!”

Alec grimaces at that.

“I’m not sure how to respond to that”

“YOu know what I mean, most gay guys are all sparkly and fun and sexually liberated and shit.”

“Way to stereotype Jace.”

“I’m just saying you don’t seem gay.”

“Well I’m sorry Im not constantly sucking a cock Jace but I mean... I am gay.”

“What in the world did I just walk in on?” Izzy asks, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

“uh, Alec was just, um” Jace stammers, trying to cover for his older brother.

“She knows I’m gay JAce, its fine.”

“Oh thank God,” Jace sighs. Then, “Wait, you told her and not me!”

“I figured it out, it’s not that hard.”

“Funny since Jace just called me the straightest person he’s ever met.”

“Well, I mean, if you just took everything you did at face value, sure, he’s right.”

Alec turns to Izzy with a stern look.

“I’m just saying, it’s a very convincing façade you’ve created Alec.”

“Well anyway, I guess that means we’re down to only one straight sibling,” Jace says, laughing.

“Yes, it’s a pity only women have to deal with you Jace.”

Alec and Jace both share a look then turn back to Izzy.

“Wait...”

“Iz?”

“Oh come on, please tell me you both didn’t think I was straight!”

“Gaydar machine really, really broken,” Alec says, patting himself down like he’s lost it.

“Hey at least you knew you were gay Alec, you should have caught this, I’m new to this shit.”

That makes Izzy turn to Jace, “What does THAT mean?”

Jace smirks, and it’s only then Izzy realizes his soulmate mark is gone.

“Oh my god, your mark is gone! When, who?”

“Last night. His name’s Meliorn. I call him Mel.”

“HIS name! You’re Bi?”

“Apparently.”

“You didn’t know?”

Jace laughs, “I mean I always said I was everyone’s type, I just didn’t know everyone was my type.”

Alec groans along with Izzy at that joke before he realizes. “Wait, so none of us are straight?”

“No.”

“Clearly not.”

“Wow, our parents are REALLY going to be angry when they find out.” Alec says.

“Totally unfair I’m going to take the brunt of it since I met my guy first.”

“Please, you literally got to find out you were Bi the moment it happened, I’ve had internalized homophobia since I was 11,” Alec deadpans. “Get on my level.”

“I mean we can just all, tell them together? They still have one shot at a straight kid with Max I guess.” Izzy looks both nervous and excited about the prospect.

“The odds aren’t looking good for Max,” Jace says, and they all crack up before hugging.

#i swear this was meant to be malec only but the jaliorn jumped out #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #jace herondale #meliorn #isabelle lightwood #jaliorn #jeliorn #mine #my fic #fanfic #saphael #simon lewis #raphael santiago #clary fairchild #100

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kinglazrus · 4 years

Text

You Can Smile

@coralyart I hope the wait was worth it, sorry again for the lateness! Here’s your Christmas Truce gift! I had a lot of fun writing it.

You Can Smile - Christmas Truce 2019

Danny's heart leapt into his throat as the floor gave way without warning. Tucker and Sam, on either side of him, shrieked in surprise. Danny didn't have the energy to cry out, at least until they hit the ground, and he landed hard on his right side, and a raging fire tore through his body so hot and fast he blacked out for a moment.

He came to on his back, Sam and Tucker hovering over him, concern filling their gazes. They were scraped and bruised, but otherwise fine. He, on the other hand, was so far from fine. His entire right side felt like it was on fire, hot embers scorching his insides.

"Walker... sucks." Danny wheezed, gently probing his side. He found the spot that hurt the most, just below his rib cage, and grimaced at the blood he felt.

"Pretty sure one of the goons got you, actually. Sorry, man," Tucker said.

"Nobody tells Skulker, I'll never live it down," Danny said.

Sam peeled up the torn edges of the jumpsuit, peering at Danny's wound. She frowned. "This is a bad one, Danny. How are you feeling?"

"A little damp, but that might just be the blood," Danny said. Sam and Tucker rolled their eyes. "Hey, wait. Actually, please tell Skulker. Maybe he'll think the ghost that wounded the great, rare halfa, would be more worth his time."

"I'll do that next time I see him," Sam said dryly. "Let me clean you up, you heal faster when I do."

Danny didn't protest. He had no idea what Walker's goon managed to hit him with, but dear god it hurt. He lay back, staring up at the ceiling as Tucker passed Sam a water bottle and a couple clean rags he kept in his pockets during their ghostly adventures.

They had fallen into a cavern. Black stone surrounded them, oddly smooth, barely a blemish in sight. The walls curved up and in, possibly into a dome, but the stone was so dark Danny couldn't tell if the ceiling rose high out of sight, shrouded in shadows, or if it was only a dozen yards above him.

Crystals jutted out from the floor. They all carried the same hexagonal shape, with a pointed top, but they varied in size. Some stood alone, others in clusters. Some were taller than Danny's dad, others wouldn't even pass Danny's ankle if he stood. They emitted soft light for him to see by, blue, pink, and purple. The light felt nice on his skin, warm where he was cold, cool where he was hot.

One of the largest crystals loomed behind Danny's head. Unlike the others, this crystal was dark, almost as black as the floor.

He reached up, flinching when his side burned anew, hissing in pain.

Inside the crystal, a light pulsed.

"Don't move," Sam told him, drawing his attention. Her hands pressed against his side, putting pressure on the wound.

At this point, it was standard procedure. Whenever Danny got an injury they couldn’t just slap a band-aid over, Sam or Tucker would help him clean it up, stop the bleeding, then let his natural healing take over. One of the perks of being a halfa, his body could take a lot more damage, and heal a lot faster. Good thing, too, or else he'd have to deal with questions he wasn't prepared to answer.

"Hey," Tucker said, drawing Danny and Sam's attention. He tilted his head back, peering up at the ceiling. "Where's the hole?"

"We only fell for a few seconds," Sam said, following Tucker's gaze. "The ceiling shouldn't be that high."

"Is it?" Tucker squinted.

"It doesn't matter," Danny said. "Give me half an hour, I'll be good to go, and I can find a way out of here."

"As long as Walker doesn't find us first," Sam muttered.

Danny closed his eyes, sighing. They got lucky, stumbling across this place. After taking the hit from Walker's goon, Danny thought they were done for. The Speeder, totalled. His strength fading by the second. Walker closing in. They took a gamble, diving into the nearest door, a mad scramble from portal to portal, gateway to gateway, their only goal to get as far from Walker as possible. And then, suddenly, they were falling.

The longer he stared up at the ceiling, the surer Danny was the hole had closed behind them. The fall had been rather short. His hip throbbed from the rough landing, amongst his other aches and pains. But they were safe. Trapped, but safe.

He scanned the walls, looking for a doorway, a tunnel, any marking at all that showed there was more to this place. He found nothing. Just smooth stone and colourful crystals.

He was about to turn away when something shifted in the corner of his eye. His focus snapped to a cluster of crystals halfway between him and the wall. Squinting hard, he sought out the source of the movement. He couldn't see anything. The longer he stared, the more everything started to blur together.

Danny blinked and rubbed his eyes, clearing his vision. It didn't help much. He felt odd. Dazed. Confused. His side still burned, but his fingers and toes were numb. He felt light-headed.

Something about this place seemed familiar, but not the normal way. Not in the way that he’d been here before. More like he had heard someone talk for hours about a place like this, going on and on for so long and in such detail that it felt like an intimate, known place he was returning to after many years of absence, his second-hand memories of it hazy and half-formed, but still strong enough to niggle at his brain.

It takes him much longer than it should have to remember.

"Ghost graveyard," Danny said.

Tucker and Sam stilled, their eyes snapping down to him.

"What?" Tucker asked.

"It's a ghost graveyard," Danny repeated.

Tucker raised an eyebrow and looked around, the soft lights glinting off his glasses. "But ghosts are already dead."

"Tucker! Don't be insensitive!" Sam berated him, her words accompanied by a sharp glare. Until confusion flickered across her face and she frowned. "But you've got a point. How can ghosts have a graveyard?"

"Clockwork told me," Danny started, laying his head back. "Sometimes, ghosts fade. For a lot of reasons. Their dead ectoplasm... or, um, double dead? Just. Yeah, dead. Their dead ectoplasm can't be reabsorbed by the Ghost Zone, except in stuff like this."

Danny pointed to the crystal behind him. A small green light shone inside it, one that wasn’t there before.

"That's... cool. I guess," Tucker said, looking wary. "There can't be ghosts of ghosts, right?"

"Very cool," Danny murmured, entranced by the light. It was beautiful, and daunting. Like Sam at her most macabre, wearing her darkest clothes, her sharpest makeup, her soft shadow eating up all the harsh light in the world. Danny loved it when she looked like that.

Or like Tucker, any time he went on a techno rampage, hacking away at firewalls and online defenses with a devilish grin, the blue computer light washing over his face in a sulfuric glow.

Danny smiled, thinking of those moments, when his girlfriend and boyfriend looked ready to take on the world. Call him sappy, but he just loved something about someone who would burn the world for you. He'd do the same for them.

The pressure on his side alleviated. Sam's breath hitched. Danny lifted his head, looking up at her. Her hands were soaked in blood.

"It's not stopping," she said.

Tucker paled, his shadow falling over Danny as he leaned over to inspect the wound. He reached out, maybe to touch Danny's side, or peel back the bloody jumpsuit, or maybe grab Sam's hand and comfort her. Danny would never find out which one, because Tucker's hand stilled the moment Danny was seized by a harsh coughing fit.

Brutal, hacking coughs ripped through his body, a jagged knife driven deep into his wounds, twisted sharply. They tore at his dry throat, Danny's head thumping back against the ground. He raised a hand to cup his mouth, but aborted the movement halfway, instead clutching his side.

Shit. Everything hurt.

When the coughing stopped, Danny groaned, a hoarse wheeze. His lips felt wet. Licking them, he tasted blood. A few speckles stained Tucker's glasses, who had shuffled up to Danny's shoulder, his hand under Danny's head to keep it off the hard ground.

Huh. When did that happen?

"Oh," Danny said. It came out as a croak rather than the breathy sigh he meant it to be. It hurt. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. "Sam, I think my lungs are bleeding. Ow."

"No, they aren't," she said, her voice wavering. She tore off her backpack, tossing it to Tucker. She didn't even look up to see if he caught it, pressing her hands against Danny's side once more. "You've had worse than this. We'll just... we'll patch you up, and you'll be fine. Tucker–"

"I know," Tucker said, upending Sam's backpack and shaking it until a red canvas bag fell out. He snatched up the bag and tore it open, gauze pads, medical tape, and disinfectant spray bursting out, scattering across the floor.

"Okay," Danny said tonelessly. It wasn't that Danny didn't believe her. Somehow, he knew she was right. He would be fine. But a little itch in the back of his head told him they had two very different versions of fine.

He didn't watch Sam and Tucker work, a practiced routine of Tucker handing Sam what she needed, when she needed it, while Danny tried not to move too much. He went back to observing the cave. There were only so many times he could look it over—admittedly, once was more than enough—but he had nothing else to do. He was hurt. He was tired. He was so damn bored.

His head flopped to the side. Two little pink eyes stared at him from amidst the crystals. Danny froze. The eyes—ghost—blinked. He blinked back. Neither moved.

The impromptu staring contest broke when Sam dabbed a wad of gauze soaked in disinfectant against Danny's side. He hissed, jerking away from her hand, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, it was to the sight of Tucker's cargo pants, inches from his nose.

Shuffling over, he pressed his cheek against Tucker's leg, his laboured breaths filling the cavern. A moment later, he felt Tucker's fingers running through his hair and leaned into the touch, closing his eyes again. Tucker's hand slipped under Danny's head and raised it up. The sound of scraping and shuffling echoed for a second, and then Tucker lowered Danny's head onto his lap.

If Danny were a little less hurt, a little more lucid, he might have been embarrassed about what he did next, snuggling against Tucker's legs.

"S-sorry about your glasses," Danny said, thinking of the flecks of blood that still dotted the lenses.

"Shut up, don't be stupid," Tucker said.

"I'm not stupid, you're stu—art."

Tucker snorted, his hands stilling. Danny whined and he resumed petting. "I'm Stuart?"

Danny groaned. "No. You're not stupid. You're smart. Stupid smart."

"He's something," Sam said. She tried to smile, but her voice was strained.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "As if you don't love me."

Sam stuck out her tongue.

Danny chuckled, but quickly broke off into another round of coughs. This time, he managed to cover his mouth, preventing more of his blood from splattering against Tucker.

"Sorry," he mumbled between coughs. Tucker didn't respond, but Danny felt his fingers tense, the petting pausing for a moment, before it resumed. Danny ducked his head, nuzzling Tucker's knee, and wiping his hand on the front of his jumpsuit once the coughing stopped.

All he wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. Tucker's hand running through his hair definitely didn't help. The steady rhythm was so relaxing. He didn't even notice Sam stopped working until she touched his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Sorry, Danny. Can you roll onto your side?" she asked.

He groaned, prompting another soft apology from Sam, and complied, holding his weight on his elbow and knees, raising his hips off the floor so she could loop the bandages around his waist. Once, twice, three times, holding the gauze pads in place.

Danny's toes curled and he clenched his fists, gritting his teeth as Sam yanked on the bandages, make sure they were tight. Something warm and fuzzy—not soft, but like TV static—brushed against his fingers. Danny gasped, his eyes flying open, and zeroed in on the small, glowing form wriggling its way between his fingers, forcing his fist open.

Small, round, no bigger than a baseball, a pale blue ghost with bright pink eyes flopped onto his palm.

"Hola!" the ghost chirped.

"Son of a–!" Tucker jerked at the sudden noise, nearly dislodging Danny as he twisted around, searching for the source.

The ghost tittered.

"Holy shit that scared me," he said.

"Really? I didn't notice," Sam drawled. She tapped Danny's shoulder, signalling she was done.

Danny, panting from that little effort, slumped. He probed the bandage, picking at the edges with his nails. When he pressed down, he could feel the dampness of the blood. Moving carefully, he draped his arm over the bandage, hoping Sam and Tucker wouldn't notice.

"So, uh. Who's this little guy?" Tucker asked.

"Me llamo Luz!"

"What?"

"Oh my god. Tucker, I know you failed Spanish, but how can't you know what that means?" Sam rolled her eyes, reaching over Danny to dig her knuckles into Tucker's shoulder.

"We don't have Spanish class! You don't know Spanish!"

"But I know what that means."

"So, what if–"

"Her name is Luz," Danny interrupted. He didn't feel like listening to Sam and Tucker argue, not right now. He was sleepy, and exhausted, and he just wanted this to be over with, one way or another. He closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Wait, no, dude, don't." Panic filled Tucker's voice. "Don't fall asleep, that's bad."

But it felt nice.

"Stay awake."

He didn't want to.

"Tell us more about the graveyard," Sam said. She squeezed Danny's shoulder again, jostling him a little. She didn't stop until Danny slowly, reluctantly, opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, Sam and her dark attire melting into the black stone around them, Tucker's bright colours blending with the crystals.

"Apparently, ghosts sort of just find their way here when they start to fade? At least that's what Clockwork told me," Danny said. He couldn't remember most of that conversation. Whether that was because he didn't pay attention, or he just didn't have the energy to recall, he wasn't sure. Maybe both. He didn't pay attention to a lot of stuff.

He was kind of regretting that now.

"Sometimes they don't even realize it. But I think there's supposed to be a guardian or something?" Danny's thumb strokes Luz's back, making her purr. "They keep intruders out. This place is kind of sacred, so..."

Tucker chuckled. "I guess they aren't doing that good a job since we're here."

"Guess not." Danny held Luz close, staring into those button eyes. They looked a little vast for something so small. It was freaking him out a little. But at the same time, Luz's eyes held nothing but warmth.

"Clockwork didn't happen to mention how someone who gets stuck here can get out, did he?" Sam asked. She crawled forward, sitting beside Tucker at Danny's head, and took over ruffling Danny's hair. "I don't really want to wait for some dying ghost to come here so the door can open back up."

"I'm sorry," Danny said, ducking his head.

"It's okay if you can't remember," Sam assured him.

That wasn't what he apologized for, but he didn't bother correcting her.

Tucker watched the crystal behind slowly grow brighter. He didn’t notice at first, more concerned with Danny and their situation, but worrying so much got exhausting and tedious after so long.

Although, he had no idea how much time had passed. It was impossible to tell, but it felt like hours. Tucker's PDA was long dead. The Ghost Zone always drained the battery faster, and the clock never worked right in here anyway. All the ectoplasm and the weird twistiness of time and space inside the ghostly realm.

All he knew was that, at some point, the crystal behind them changed from black to pale green, the glow spreading from deep within.

Tucker ran his thumb back and forth across Danny's knuckles, who still lay curled on his uninjured side. Danny had taken to softly muttering in Spanish, having a quiet conversation with Luz. Tucker wished he knew what they were saying, but, ultimately, it didn't matter. As long as Danny was talking, he was awake. As long as he was awake, he was alive.

Tucker tried not to look at Danny's injury. Every time he did, he couldn't help but feel dread, like poison, seep through him. His stupid, idiot, well-meaning but very much the self-sacrificing jerk of a boyfriend was trying to hide it under the crook of his elbow, but Tucker could see.

The bandages were tinged pink. Soon enough, they'd be red. After that... Tucker didn't want to think about it.

Danny's muttering was the only thing putting Tucker at ease. Whenever Danny stopped, waiting for Luz to respond, Tucker's breath caught in his throat. Danny had a bad habit of holding himself perfectly still when he wasn't doing anything, looking almost like a statue. Sometimes, it was unnerving. Right now?

Right now, it made Tucker think that each time Danny stopped talking, he'd never talk again. He hated it. He hated this place. He hated Walker, and his goons, and that stupid, lucky shot, and Danny's frustrating inability to dodge at crucial moments.

Tucker shook his head. He wasn't mad at Danny. He just wanted Danny to be okay.

Sam was curled up against Tucker's side, holding Danny's free hand, her head on Tucker's shoulder. He glanced at her every once in a while, checking to see if she had fallen asleep. She hadn't. Although her eyes were closed, tension furrowed her brow and pinched her lips, her breathing uneven.

He tucked a strand of hair, slowly falling down her cheek, back behind her ear.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Tucker thought this was nice. His girlfriend cuddled against him, his boyfriend's head in his lap. He laughed softly, careful not to disturb either of them. The day they started dating stood fresh in his mind.

Danny asked Tucker and Sam out separately, to the same date, without telling either one about the other. When Tucker got to the movie theatre and saw Sam there, his heart nearly broke. He thought, for a moment, that he had misunderstood Danny's intentions. That Danny didn't feel the same way Tucker did.

When he noticed them holding hands, he nearly shattered into pieces. But then Danny saw him, beamed as brightly as the stars he loved to rave about, and held out his other hand for Tucker to take.

"Jazz told me to be spontaneous. So, uh... I kind of love you both and would you like to go out with me? Us? The three of us I mean. Together. Dating," Danny had said, his face burning red, gaze nervously darting from Sam to Tucker and back again.

As it turned out, Danny wasn't quite the clueless dweeb everyone thought he was. He just couldn't decide which best friend he wanted to date. So, he decided to date both of them.

Tucker was nervous at first. Scared he might ruin things. He wasn't sure he could love Sam the same way he loved Danny. He had always liked her, but love?

Sam suddenly wrinkled her nose, snuggled further against Tucker's side, tucking her arms between them and sighing softly. Tucker smiled. Yeah, he loved her, and Danny. They were everything to him.

"What time is it?" Sam asked, cracking one eye open.

Tucker shook his head. "No idea. PDA's dead. But probably late enough our parents are wondering where we are."

"Are you kidding? My mom probably doesn't even know I'm gone. I bet Danny's parents think we're sleeping over at your place. And your parents..." Sam trailed off. "Yeah, okay. Your parents would notice."

She paused, taking a deep breath. "We'll be okay."

Tucker nodded. "We'll be okay."

"You'll be okay," Danny said.

Tucker paused, frowning. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "What?"

"It's going to be okay," Danny said, turning slightly to look up at them.

Tucker didn't miss the careful wording, but decided not to comment on it. If he did... It was like thinking some great, big horror was lurking behind a closed door. And as long as Tucker didn't open the door, he could pretend there was nothing behind it at all.

He didn't want to open the door.

"Let me check if the bleeding's stopped," Sam said, pulling away from Tucker's. He immediately missed her warmth.

On her knees, one hand out to catch herself should she fall, fingertips brushing the hard stone, Sam leaned over Danny, brushing his arm aside. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she inched forward, blocking Tucker's view.

Apparently, he didn't need to see it. He could hear the wetness of the bandages as Sam peeled them back. The noise, not quite a squelch, but almost like a tearing sound, echoed throughout the cavern.

Tucker worriedly gnawed his lip. He shifted to the side, so he could see Danny's face better. His eyes looked glazed, his breathing short and ragged, sweat dotting his forehead. Blood speckled his lips. He looked faint, and gray, like all the colour was slowly seeping out of him.

His lips barely moved as he spoke, Luz sitting in his cupped hand, raised to his face. Tucker squinted. He could have sworn Luz was a lighter blue before, like ice. Now she was the colour of a cloudless sky.

"Sam?" Tucker looked up, desperate for some good news.

Sam shook her head.

"Hey, guys," Danny said. His voice was so weak, barely more than a whisper. Tucker wondered if it hurt too much to talk any louder. "Luz gave me some good news."

He laughed, weakly, breaking off into a groan and a grimace, one hand drifting to his wound.

Luz squeaked, a string of rapid, concerned words spilling from her mouth. Danny tapped Luz on the head and whispered something back. Tucker only recognized one word, "bien," which meant “okay.”

He didn't think this was okay.

"She told me something cool about this place," Danny continued, switching back to English. He jerked his head, motioning to the ceiling. "Apparently, ghosts are super private about fading, so the guardian closes the cavern to give them privacy. They're apparently super into keeping the ghost happy as they fade, go figure."

Nobody laughed.

"But the door's gonna open pretty soon, and Luz can fly out and get some help."

Relief washed over Tucker. They were getting out. Luz could find Frostbite, or Clockwork, or any semi-friendly ghost that didn't always want to capture, kill, or maim Danny, and they could get him some real help.

He'd need a hospital, probably. There would be questions, and maybe a threat to Danny's secret, but that didn't matter at the moment. The only thing that mattered was Danny would be fine.

Tucker turned to Sam, beaming. His smile froze when he saw her frightened expression. "Sam?"

Her gaze, hard, but tear-filled, didn't waver. She asked, "Why. Why will the door open?"

Of course, Sam asked the important questions, she always did. Fierce, headstrong, and smart. Danny expected nothing less of her. And Tucker. Tucker was the hopeful one, the optimist. He saw the bright side in everything and never gave up. Those were the reasons Danny fell in love with them in the first place.

Danny could have told them what Luz told him, about how not all ghosts faded alone. How sometimes, the guardian made exceptions, let others be there for them, so they wouldn't pass surrounded only by soft light and solitude.

He could have told them. Maybe he should have. He didn't.

Instead, Danny reached out, taking Tucker and Sam's hands, and gave them a reassuring squeeze. He didn't say anything, just smiled. He couldn't give them the reassurances they needed. Nor could he bring himself to tell the truth. But he could smile. He could at least do that.

#SORRY AGAIN THAT IT'S SO LATE #It was sooooo much fun to write #I've been wanting to write some everlasting trio for a while so this was the perfect chance #shout out to ghostly for giving it a quick read through to make sure it was good to go #christmas truce #lazwrites #unlucky alis #phicc #angst

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haberdashing · 5 years

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For Convenience’ Sake

AU where Crowley works in a convenience store and Aziraphale is one of his odder customers, as inspired by this post and this ask.

on AO3

Working whatever shifts he could get at the local 24-hour convenience store, Crowley had seen his fair share of unusual customers. The drunks, the stoners, the idiots, the pranksters... some days, it seemed like that lot outnumbered the “normal” customers, the ones who came to the store with a specific purchase in mind and just wanted to get what they came for without too much fuss.

But one of Crowley’s more unusual customers didn’t fit clearly into any of his typical categories, and what’s more, he was quickly becoming a regular there.

The man appeared to be about the same age as Crowley himself, but he always wore an outfit that made him look like he’d come straight from the Victorian era, with a fancy, perfectly-fitted beige suit (Crowley couldn’t tell if it was always the same suit, or several identical ones that were all equally well-tailored and blemish-free) complete with a tartan bow tie. The feeling that the man had somehow fallen through time and missed a couple centuries in the process wasn’t helped by the fact that, the first time Crowley saw him, the man entered the store at roughly three in the morning, slowly circled the shop while repeatedly stopping to closely examine seemingly-random products, and then wished Crowley a good day as he exited the shop about half an hour after entering it without buying a single thing in the process. (Crowley had wondered at first if it was a very elaborate method of shoplifting, but most of the items the man had stopped to inspect were far too bulky to hide upon his person, and besides, that fancy suit of his didn’t look to have much in the way of pockets or other places to stash ill-gotten goods.)

Most customers who wore get-ups that nice treated Crowley like he was the dirt beneath their feet, making it clear that they thought they were far superior to him just because they had money to their name and Crowley, working a dead-end minimum wage job at a convenience store, clearly didn’t, but the man in the beige suit was a clear exception to that general rule. He made a habit of politely greeting Crowley whenever entering or leaving the shop, asked Crowley the odd question (and some of them were odd indeed) here or there, and generally seemed to actually see Crowley as a fellow human being rather than a mere automaton made to serve him. It was perhaps a bit sad that such human decency made the man in the beige suit stand out from so many other customers that Crowley had to deal with from day to day, but so it did.

For months the man in the beige suit came and went at odd hours without Crowley having the slightest clue who he was or even what his name was, but Crowley didn’t think too much of it at the time; he could say the same about a number of his regulars, after all.

But all that changed in the middle of one particular overnight shift.

A half-asleep Crowley had groaned a little when the bell at the front of the store that let him know a customer had entered went off, but his groaning stopped when he saw who it was that had entered the shop. The man in the beige suit was polite enough, at least, and though he seemed a bit strange, he never made himself too much of a bother. He could think of few other people he would rather have seen walk through that door--actually, now that he made himself stop and think about it, he couldn’t think of a single customer he would have preferred to have there instead.

The man in the beige suit waved at Crowley as he walked inside. “Beautiful evening out there, don’t you think?”

Crowley was pretty sure that the time was well past “evening” at this point in the night, and he had no clue as to whether it was nice out or not given that he’d been working inside for several hours and would be working for several more, but he gave a quick nod in response, just to be polite.

“It’s a good time for a little stroll around the neighborhood, I say. Nice and quiet.”

Crowley made a non-committal grunt in response, holding back a litany of comments that went through his head about how going for “a little stroll around the neighborhood” this time of night was probably a good way to get yourself killed if you weren’t careful, and the man in the beige suit didn’t especially strike him as the careful sort, thinking it wiser to just hold his tongue and judge in silence.

The man started perusing the items available within the store in a way that Crowley associated with him and him alone, as if this was the only time he’d ever been inside a convenience store and he was going to examine every last bit of it while he had the chance. Crowley watched him go about his business, partly out of boredom, partly because there wasn’t much else to do, but partly because something about this strange Victorian-looking man interested him in a way few other store regulars could even dream of.

After a couple minutes, the man in the beige suit stood in place by the slushie machine and looked over at Crowley, asking, “What flavor is the blue... frozen beverage you have here?”

“Frozen beverage” was as good a way as any to describe them, Crowley supposed, especially because even he was struggling to remember exactly what corporate insisted on calling them here.

“It’s... blue.” Crowley said without thinking, then shook his head, knowing that some customers would scream and yell and throw a tantrum for him giving such a useless answer. (The man in the beige suit, on the other hand, barely seemed to react to his less-than-helpful response.)

After blinking a few times in the hopes of it helping him wake up a bit, Crowley added, “Blue raspberry, I think.”

What exactly a blue raspberry was, Crowley couldn’t say, and he was fairly certain one wouldn’t even remotely recognize the contents of the machine as being similar to the actual fruit it was named after--really, that stuff tasted blue more than anything, hence his initial response--but that was an idiosyncrasy Crowley was willing to ignore, given how many other idiosyncrasies the store contained at any given moment.

“Blue raspberry, you say? That sounds positively delightful,” the man in the beige suit said.

(Not only did the man look like he had just come from the Victorian era, half the time he sounded that way too, Crowley thought to himself.)

The man in the beige suit walked away from the slushie machine, and for a moment Crowley thought that that would be the end of the conversation, but then the man picked up two sizable bags of crisps and held them in the air with the labels facing in Crowley’s direction.

“Which of these do you think would go better with the blue raspberry frozen beverage you have available over there?”

One of the bags of crisps was, apparently, sour cream-flavored, while the other was salt and vinegar-flavored. The bags were of two different brands, neither of which Crowley could remember ever having tried himself.

This wasn’t the weirdest question the man in the beige suit had ever asked Crowley, but it stood a decent chance at breaking the top five, at least.

Despite his lack of first-hand experience with those particular brands of crisps on their own, let alone when paired with a blue slushie, Crowley didn’t hesitate in responding.

“Oh, the salt and vinegar ones, definitely.”

Crowley’s response may have been slightly biased by the fact that Crowley himself adored salt and vinegar crisps, to the point where he’d had a few days when those were all he could make himself eat. He didn’t know whether the man in the beige suit shared his taste in crisps, but he had asked what Crowley thought would go better with the slushie, after all, and that was his own opinion. Besides, he couldn’t imagine sour cream crisps going very well with... well... blue.

“Wonderful.” The man set down the package of sour cream crisps and headed towards Crowley, his tight grip on the salt and vinegar crisp package only loosening when he gently set them down on the counter. “I’d like to buy these crisps and your largest size of blue raspberry frozen beverage, please.”

Crowley rang up the order. “That’ll be four pounds even.”

Crowley purposely neglected to mention that he’d applied his own employee discount in order to bring the man in the beige suit’s order down to that price.

To be fair, Crowley’s manager had told him that he could apply his employee discount to the orders of other customers using his own discretion so long as it wasn’t being used for sneaky business like telling customers the usual price and then pocketing the difference.

Also to be fair, Crowley was pretty sure his manager had had that in mind as a way of pleasing customers who wouldn’t shut up about how they deserved a discount for any of a number of bullshit reasons, not as something he could give to a customer who not only didn’t seem to mind the regular price but, at a glance, didn’t even appear to register that the price he was being charged wasn’t what it should be on the basis of simple maths.

“Here you go.” The man handed over a twenty-pound note, as Crowley knew from experience that he would--Crowley half-suspected that the man would use even bigger notes to pay for his orders if the convenience store would accept them.

“That’s sixteen pounds in change back for you, then.” Crowley handed over the change, which the man in the beige suit stuffed into a wallet that then seemed to disappear into the pockets of his suit, as well as a cup, lid, and straw for the slushie. “The... frozen beverages are pour-your-own.”

“Oh, I- I didn’t expect that... can you show me how it’s done?”

Usually, Crowley would have declined in a heartbeat.

For one thing, asking to be shown how a machine like that works usually seemed to mean doing it for the customer, often wasting a good deal of slushie material in the process, and being unable to assist any other customers that entered in the meantime until he was done.

For another thing, leaving the register unattended and turning his back to the rest of the store seemed like a good way for someone to get rather a lot of shoplifting done while he’s distracted, and his manager would definitely claim that it was all his fault if that happened.

But instead, Crowley found himself leaving his spot at the register and saying, “Sure, not a problem.”

“Oh, thank you.”

As the man in the beige suit and Crowley walked side-by-side over to the slushie machine, the man asked, “Say, I’ve never formally introduced myself to you, have I?”

Crowley shook his head. “Don’t believe that you have, no.”

“My name’s Mister Fell. I run a bookstore that’s just down the road.”

Crowley believed the man, but hadn’t the slightest clue where the book shop in question might be; then again, he’d never been much of a bookworm, and now on the rare occasion that he had money left over to spend on luxuries books wouldn’t even come close to making the list.

“Do you have a first name, Mister Fell?”

Crowley regretted voicing the question as soon as he’d finished asking it. It was rude, really, the kind of absentminded rudeness that he knew from experience could turn even seemingly mild-mannered customers into beings that appeared to be composed entirely out of pure rage in the blink of an eye.

“I do, yes.” Mister Fell replied, his tone making it clear that he considered his response a sufficient answer to Crowley’s question.

Well.

Crowley supposed he deserved that.

Maybe Mister Fell’s first name was an embarrassing one; maybe Mister Fell felt that giving away his first name to a mere convenience store cashier was beneath him; maybe Mister Fell was in the same position Crowley himself had been in some years back, where he’d had a name that was supposed to be his own but just didn’t feel quite right, to the point where he felt awkward giving it out when asked, even before he’d come up with a name that fit better, or even realized why that first name had felt so wrong to begin with...

Regardless, Crowley supposed, the reason Mister Fell had behind not giving out his first name was really none of his business.

“And yourself?” Mister Fell asked.

Crowley glanced down at his name tag, which had his first name prominently displayed. Clearly Mister Fell wanted to know more than just that, then.

Technically, Crowley’s manager had told him that employees weren’t supposed to give out their full names to customers. Something about corporate not wanting liability for angry customers tracking down employees that had pissed them off on the clock.

Technically, Crowley didn’t give a damn what the rules said about giving out names right now.

“The name’s Anthony J. Crowley.”

“What does the J stand for?”

Crowley could feel his face heat up as he sputtered, “It’s just- just a J, really.”

That right there? That was a flat-out lie.

What the J actually stood for was a name that Crowley had thought sounded cool for about two seconds when he was eighteen and had fervently regretted choosing ever since, one that he had grown to detest almost as much as the name his parents had saddled him with at birth after looking at his nether regions and making an assumption on his gender based on that and that alone, one that he didn’t tell anybody if he could find a way to avoid it. Honestly, he’d probably have changed it ages ago, but Crowley knew well enough that legal name changes required time and money and effort, and he seemed to have a chronic lack of all three these days.

It wasn’t the first time that Crowley had told that particular lie about his middle name being “just a J, really.” It was one of his more common go-to responses when people asked about it. In fact, he had used that statement, or ones similar to it, enough that Crowley was beginning to get letters addressed to “Anthony J Crowley,” the lack of a full stop after the J suggesting that the one who’d addressed it thought his middle name consisted solely of the J rather than it being an abbreviation for something, or, taking things one step further, letters addressed to “Anthony Jay Crowley.” Both of these amused him, and both were much preferred to letters that actually used his real full name when addressing him.

Mister Fell nodded. “I see. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Crowley.”

Crowley returned Mister Fell’s nod with one of his own. “Likewise.”

Mister Fell slowed his walk to a stop as he arrived in front of the slushie machine. “Now, how do you use one of these, exactly?”

“It’s pretty easy really, see, you just-” Crowley grabbed the cup that Mister Fell had set down and placed it under the blue part of the slushie dispenser. “You just put the cup under the flavor you want-”

“Got it.” Mister Fell’s arm joined Crowley’s own in holding onto the slushie cup, which was now slightly crinkled because of the force of their combined grips.

“And then you press this button right here, and it comes right out of the top and goes- oh.”

Crowley abruptly halted his speech as he noticed that a small bit of the blue slushie substance that the machine had just dispensed had fallen not into the cup but onto Mister Fell’s arm, leaving a small but noticeable blue blemish on his otherwise-pristine beige suit.

Mister Fell’s gaze followed Crowley’s own in moving from the slushie to the newfound stain on his suit. “Oh dear.”

Crowley immediately snapped back into customer service mode, all too aware that one wrong move at this point could lose him Mister Fell as a customer, if not his very job. “I’m so sorry about that, sir, that was a complete and total accident, I swear-”

Mister Fell stayed silent in the face of Crowley’s apologies, the expression on his face unchanging and difficult to read, which only put Crowley even more on edge.

“There’s some napkins over here, let me just try to wipe that down for you-”

Crowley hastily grabbed a fistful of napkins and shoved them, still largely bundled up within his fist, towards the stain in Mister Fell’s suit, only realizing how close he had gotten to Mister Fell and how personal, even intimate, such a gesture could seem when his fingers brushed briefly against Mister Fell’s arm. His arm, from what little Crowley could feel of it, was cool and smooth and soft, probably the result of him never having had to do the sort of manual labor that was the only means Crowley had to keep himself going, and Crowley couldn’t help but wonder if the other man had noticed in turn how warm and rough and scratchy Crowley’s own skin must seem to him in comparison...

Crowley shook his head a little to stop that particular train of thought from going too far and kept moving, dabbing at the stain with napkin after napkin, yielding a comically large amount of blue-stained napkins but little actual reduction in the blue spot on Mister Fell’s suit.

“That... that didn’t actually help much, did it... I’m so sorry.”

Mister Fell shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Accidents happen, and you did your best to make it better. It may not have entirely succeeded-” Mister Fell’s gaze dropped back to the stain on his suit, and his expression looked slightly pained. “-but it was a noble effort just the same.”

Crowley had to stop himself from laughing at the sheer oddity of the turns of phrase this man used without so much as blinking an eye. This convenience store was about as far as “noble” as Crowley could imagine, and he was pretty sure applying the adjective to anything he did on the job would be a gross misuse of the word--and, come to think of it, “effort” might be overstating things a bit, too.

(For a brief moment Crowley returned to a pattern of thinking that he had perfected over the years by reminding himself that really, all one needed to work here was to be a warm body present in the store at all times, that literally anybody could do what he was doing on the job here--but never mind all that, Mister Fell was talking again.)

“Thank you, Mister Crowley. Thank you very much for your assistance.”

That definitely hadn’t been what Crowley had been expecting to hear, and he could swear that his heart skipped a beat upon hearing it. Somehow, after years of retail customers calling him by the first name listed on his name tag, being addressed by surname actually felt more intimate to Crowley than the alternative.

“You’re... welcome?”

He could barely string two words together, he sounded like an idiot, especially compared to Mister Fell-

Mister Fell, whose face had settled into a thin but clear smile now.

“I think I can handle working this machine by myself now. And really, don’t worry about the stain--I suppose one could say it even gives the suit character, in a way.”

Crowley nodded dumbly, though he didn’t entirely buy Mister Fell’s argument (and didn’t entirely believe that Mister Fell did either, for that matter) and returned to his register, eyes firmly locked on Mister Fell... who proceeded to fill his slushie as cleanly and smoothly as if he’d done it all his life, to the point where if he didn’t know better Crowley might have suspected that the request for his help in the matter had been some sort of elaborate practical joke.

After filling his slushie, Mister Fell took a single long sip of it, let out a contented sigh, and slowly but surely began to amble towards the shop’s door, slushie and crisps in hand. Before leaving, though, he turned back towards the register and towards Crowley, saying, “Goodbye, Mister Crowley, and may the rest of your day be a good one!”

Crowley wasn’t even sure what day it technically was at this point--the shop had a clock in it somewhere, but he never could remember where, so he wasn’t sure if it was past midnight yet or not--but that didn’t really matter, he supposed. The sentiment was a nice one just the same, and one that customers rarely bothered to extend towards retail workers without prompting, at least in Crowley’s experience.

(Also Mister Fell’s lips and tongue were already tinged a slight bluish-purple from trying a sip of the slushie but Crowley probably shouldn’t have found that as interesting to think about as he actually did-)

“Thank you,” Crowley said with a nod and a grin, “And the same to you, sir!”

Mister Fell left the shop, but Crowley’s mental image of him, of this dapper Victorian-looking man in a fancy beige suit and bow tie who apparently ran a local bookstore carrying a sizable bag of crisps and with his lips and mouth turned blue from the large slushie he was carrying, lingered on, and though Crowley had to deal with plenty of drunks and idiots and pranksters throughout the rest of that shift, that grin remained upon his face the entire time.

#good omens #good omens au #good omens miniseries #good omens show #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #crowley #crowley and aziraphale #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale #personal #my writing

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fistsoflightning · 5 years

Text

unending character meme // zaya qestir

RULES: repost, don’t reblog! tag, and good luck!

TAGGED BY: tagged in spirit by @to-the-voiceless

TAGGING: any and all who want to do it but haven’t actually been tagged by anyone!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Zaya Qestir

NICKNAME: none, really.

AGE: 29 by the end of Stormblood. 30-ish by the end of SHB? Haven’t figured out the time distortion thing.

BIRTHDAY: 17th of the 4th Umbral Moon (8/17)

ETHNIC GROUP: Au’ra; Xaelan

NATIONALITY: Nomad? From the Azim Steppe’s Reunion, if that helps.

LANGUAGE / S: Eorzean Sign Language, Xaelan (crude/unpracticed); understands most languages through use of the Echo

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: dating Thancred Waters??? unsure of status during post-SHB but getting there.

HOME TOWN /AREA: Reunion, Azim Steppe

CURRENT HOME: A shared room in the Rising Stones or a shared house in the Mist; depends on where they are at the time of night.

PROFESSION: jeweler, weaver, gladiator of the coliseum, bard teacher (appointed reluctantly by Sanson after many a problem with Guydelot’s schedule), adventurer and warrior of light

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Straight and somewhat below shoulder length. Most of their hair is black, but slowly changes to blue and white at the tips.

EYES: Dark blue; navy color? Light blue limbal rings that glow in the dark, too.

FACE: Sharp jawline accented by their scales, often covered with some royal blue facepaint similar to Arenvald’s own.

LIPS: Often chapped, but otherwise normal.

COMPLEXION: Ashen brown? Hard to describe bc of weird lighting everywhere they go.

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: There’s a lot, and I might make a scar map at some point??? Major ones happen to be their legs and their left arm; the legs from Ifrit and the arm from Elidibus in Zenos’s body in 4.5

TATTOOS: None, no matter how much people think the facepaint is one.

HEIGHT: Taller than the average Au’ra, about 5’4

WEIGHT: about 135 pounds

BUILD: Muscular, especially due to their main fighting style requiring muscle literally everywhere. Fistfighting for money is no small feat.

FEATURES: Their scales are an odd color (think black and blue borealis dice, but as scales), and their horns definitely look a bit… ragged. Watching them fight will give the odd realization that lightning sparks in cobalt blue come off of them sometimes.

ALLERGIES: Some undetermined fish allergy. Higiri fed them some assorted sushi once and never did again, so the Scions (and themselves) have no clue what fish they need to avoid.

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Tied into a loose ponytail at the back. Sanson often comments how they share a hairstyle, but it’s simply from need of clear vision when moving around for monk skills and attacks.

USUAL FACE LOOK: Stoic as all hell. Not used to making full-on facial expressions outside of conversation, so normally looks bored.

USUAL CLOTHING: Tabards, cyclas, or generally something with flowy fabric that doesn’t restrain movement all that much. Metal boots and gauntlets/knuckles are also common, but not always.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S: being the last one standing, change, losing their younger siblings/younger friends, spiders, breaking a promise with their mother.

ASPIRATION / S: To have a proper adventure, and to inspire others to live their fullest lives.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Devoted, comforting, slightly protective, carefree

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Easily angered, impulsive, emotional, stubborn

MBTI: ISFP-T (Adventurer)

ZODIAC: Leo, apparently? Sort of fits, if you look at it closely.

TEMPERAMENT: Some crazy blend between phlegmatic and choleric? Generally carefree and easygoing with friends and willing to spend a lot of patience on them, but unrelenting and downright frightening in serious situations, especially when involving Garlemald.

SOUL TYPE / S: Server/Caregiver

ANIMALS: Birds and dogs.

VICE HABIT / S: Drinking, although the Echo does prevent it from having any effect whatsoever, so its more of a taste thing? Tends to sleep a lot when stressed, and often spends their leftover money on gemstones for their shared collection.

FAITH: Polytheistic; the Twelve and Nhaama are gods they generally believe in.

GHOSTS?: Yes, mainly because they’ve seen one.

AFTERLIFE?: Yes.

REINCARNATION?: Probably, with how they’re sure they’ve seen someone who was supposed to be dead before

ALIENS?: before becoming Warrior of Light, it would be no, but with the revelation of Elidibus on the moon and Midgardsormr and OMEGA‌‌ (ALIEN‌ ROBOT????) they aren’t so sure anymore.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Does not care enough even though they are staunch friends with Nanamo. Didn’t care enough to try and challenge Oktai for the seat of Qestiri Khatun, certainly doesn’t care enough to take a political stance in Eorzea.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Barely any; just enough to read letters written in Eorzean and faintly Ishgardian (courtesy of Alphinaud and Haurchefant).

FAMILY.

FATHER: there was one, once, but he’d rather he be forgotten in pursuit of a happier future. Zaya remembers him as Baatar, but they don’t remember if that was actually his name.

MOTHERS: Erhi, Odgerel.

SIBLINGS: Oktai (older brother), Taban (older sister), Sarnai (sister), Delger and Tuya (fraternal twins)

EXTENDED FAMILY: any of the Scions (former or current) or their fellow Warriors of Light, if we’re talking found family. House Fortemps, Aymeric, Estinien, Sanson, Guydelot, Sidurgu, Rielle, and all of the Qestiri tribe are up there too, but you know, that’s kind of a lot of gifts to be sending around during Starlight. (zaya totally sends them all gifts anyways.)

NAME MEANING /S: Zaya means fate in Mongolian, which all of the other Xaelan names seem to be based on. Their previous name, Dzoldzaya, meant light of fate.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: Recorded history on the Azim Steppe is easily lost, but if asking around the different tribes, one could learn about a rather prominent Qestiri warrior whose image is painted in some of the caverns nearby where much of important, unforgettable Xaelan history is recorded by the Gharl, swathed in blue cloth. In the days of Amaurot, there was one standout Amaurotine who shared a love for lightning and birds…

FAVORITES.

BOOK: They don’t know enough Eorzean to read a full book, not even a children’s book. The Echo doesn’t help with reading. Urianger has read a book of myths and legends that turned out to be true to them, however, and that has been their favorite for a while. They’ve been considering asking him to read more for them, but that’s been placed on hold after the events of the First and following Mt. Gulg.

DEITY: Nhaama, or Rhalgr, if talking to someone who thinks ‘what’s a Nhaama’ when they mention her.

HOLIDAY: Starlight Celebration. Something about the festive mood always makes them happy.

MONTH: August (4th Umbral Moon)

SEASON: Summer

PLACE: On the Source, Reunion in the Azim Steppe just because interacting with other tribes is rather fun. On the First, Il Mheg all the way!

WEATHER: Clear nights where they can trace the constellations, but it isn’t too cold to need a blanket.

SOUND / S: Excited chatter, harp, singing, small hammers clinking against metal.

SCENT /S: Rain, fresh wood, the air in Gridania, light perfume, Syhrwyda’s food.

TASTE /S: Snurbleberry, honey, most Doman seafood, buuz.

FEEL /S: Soft and smooth fabrics, cold metal, the grip of someone’s hand around theirs, wind blowing through their hair on a warm day.

ANIMAL /S: Yol, chocobo (birds!).

NUMBER: 17, for their nameday and the first year they spent in Eorzea

COLORS: Cobalt blue and indigo, pale gold, soot black.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Extremely good when working with cloth or metal; even more so when tinkering little trinkets. Interestingly enough, very good at playing flute and harp without much practice. Expert at pulling a person’s true emotions out with simply body language.

BAD AT: Sneaking around/stealth. Do not, under any circumstance, give them a job involving secrecy or stealth unless you want it to fail. Speaking/reading is also pretty horrible, due to how they were raised. Also bad at taking change or lies well.

TURN-ONS: Loyalty, bravery despite all odds, kindness and love even when it would be easier to be otherwise, being able to understand other beliefs, and a love of freedom or new experiences

TURN OFFS: Lying to their face knowingly, extreme greed, lack of self-worth, anger for no good reason

HOBBIES: making music with Guydelot and Sanson, attempting to keep a journal, idle tinkering, dancing, gardening

TROPES: Good is Not Soft, Hope Bringer, Magnetic Hero, Omniglot, The Power of Friendship, The Quiet One, Silent Snarker, Dark is Not Evil, Five Stages of Grief, Horrifying Hero, Magic Music, Warrior Poet, Dance Battler, Warrior Monk, Determinator, Pintsized Powerhouse, Pragmatic Hero (don’t let me stay on TV‌tropes pls)

QUOTES: have a snippet of some writing?

Scrawled onto a piece of paper underneath his arm in Thancred’s handwriting and marked with Zaya’s name reads, “Your words, no matter how I react, do not change how I love you all.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?

A1: Honestly, I think there would be two movies that could include Zaya; some comedy musical revolving around Zaya’s bard lifestyle while placing their active lifestyle in the background (called “A Bard Knock Life” bc i think puns are cool) or an action drama framed around Zaya and the Scions living some sort of high fantasy/DND type adventure bc I love that stuff called “The Unbroken Thread”. (THAT‌ QUEST‌ NAME STILL GETS‌ ME)

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like?

A2: Something featuring a flute, probably. I got attached to Zaya playing the flute being a former flute player myself. (I only wish the oboe performance sound bank clicked with me a little more…)

Q3: Why did you start writing this character?

A3: Originally, Zaya wasn’t meant to exist. I was literally planning on just creating A’dewah, Syhrwyda, and maybe Lumelle and Elwin in different roles. Then the Au’ra came out; I‌ used my free Fantasia from the sub rewards just to be an Au’ra (I was a miqo’te before; shh, i was still babu who liked cats) and suddenly Zaya started being formed as Menphina Jewel. Before I knew it, that Menphina Jewel grew a whole backstory and a new name and new friends (Azim Steppe arc of Stormblood MSQ? Final nail in the coffin.) that slowly took over the previous two Warriors as the focus of my attention. I wasn’t even supposed to keep playing FFXIV‌ past HW, dude. I had like a million other things to be doing at the time, but here I am, lying in my grave 3 years later still attached.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character?

A4: They’re (mostly) mute. I really wanted to explore what it’s like to not be able to talk and only converse in body language, but then I discovered that might be a problem, so my interest in sign language collided with Zaya’s backstory. It also helps me work out a personality without them sounding/looking too much like what I think is Basic Story ProtagTM like I tend to do on accident (see A’dewah and Valdis’s dialogue sometimes.)

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5: They can’t really speak. Funny how the thing I like most is also the thing I hate most. It’s very frustrating when I want them to convey something and then they can’t without using actual words and a voice because I haven’t got a clue on how to convey that through body language. How in the world do you convey ‘I feel like I’m doing arcanist calculations when you speak’ in nonverbal language??? I have no damn idea and every attempt looks like I meant something else.

Q6: What do you have in common with your muse?

A6: The snark, man. I have friends constantly commenting on how I’ve made a burn without me realizing I’ve done so, and it’s hilarious. The love for music also carried over big time, especially after discovering how fun the bard NPCs were to write and how they’d fit into Zaya’s relationship web. (they’re totally the more comedic side, but I love Guydelot and Sanson anyways.)

Q7: How does your muse feel about you?

A7: No clue, dude. Maybe thinks I’m boring? I don’t tend to want to drastically change things or look for new adventures; the biggest leap I’ve taken in two years is probably changing to a reed instrument from flute, and even then I don’t have to change key when‌ I read music, so it’s not that big a deal.

Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?

A8: Urianger and Lyse, maybe? I like the exploration of repairing relationships after something that might have ended another, weaker bond. It’s also kinda fun trying to see how Zaya would react; they’re a lot more rash than I am in real life, and that’s honestly saying something. Alisaie and Alphinaud, however, are the most fun just because I know what I’m doing when I write them, and it’s funny to see how Zaya reacts (or has a lack of reaction) to their dynamic. Guydelot and Sanson fall into another category of ‘dear god I simultaneously love and hate these two’, while Thancred, Y’shtola, Urianger, Syhrwyda, Duscha, and Ryne fall into some sort of strong found family vibes that just get me everytime I think about it

Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse?

A9:…Doing job quests or side story quests or even MSQ I haven’t caught up on yet. Watch as I slowly rewrite as many MSQ‌ and job quest scenes as I can in any of my Warrior of Light’s viewpoints. (currently chiseling away at some backstory/before they were Warriors stories after reading too deep into the race/subrace text and lore keep an eye out LOL-)

Q10: How long did this take you to complete?

A10: A day or two; don’t remember when I began. It was probably when I was procrastinating on homework, though. I didn’t post it until a week later whoops.

#ffxiv #ffxiv character meme #zaya qestir #whee i wrote a bit much #oh well #zaya cm #tales from the blue

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dammit-stark · 5 years

Note

Thorbruce soulmate au?

thorbruce soulmate au - - 1.7k words

When Bruce wakes up from another hulk-induced haze, he doesn’t know where he is. He also doesn’t recognize the weird-looking spot on his chest.

“Huh, that’s new,” He says, then pulls on a shirt and a probably-not-dirty pair of pants, Thor kindly makes sure he’s all in one piece, pats him on the back, and they move on with their lives.

“You are alright, sir Banner?” Thor asks, straightening Bruce’s back-up tee shirt. They’ve spent a lot of time together since the whole blowing-up-of-Asgard thing, “I would hate if something had happened to you.”

Bruce shakes his head, “I’m fine,” He says, “As always. Thanks, Thor.”

“Anything for you, my valiant, green, punching friend!” Thor tells him, and Bruce can’t remember when he became lucky enough to have genuinely good people in his chaotic, messy life.

Bruce smiles, tight lipped and shy, but doesn’t say anything else. There’s a weird burn where the new mark resides, and the doctor dutifully ignores it in the meantime.

Bruce doesn’t think anything of the oddly shaped blemish until one day the hulk is thrown into a freeway by a megalomaniacal genetically modified crocodile man, and he wakes up an hour and a half later to Thor’s big hands shaking him awake as he is surrounded by the legs of half a dozen Avengers. As his eyes blink open, Thor sighs in relief and eagerly helps him up as Nat hands him a cotton blanket.

Thor walks with Bruce until he regains his balance, a strong hand on his arm as he animatedly details the Hulk’s part in the battle. They walk in an aimless Circle, and Bruce just lets it all wash over him, a weird and unfamiliar feeling settling in his stomach. He hypothesizes that it’s probably concussion-related, though the Hulk has never been known to have the ability to become concussed. Thor tells him about the dog he’d met the day before. For all intents and purposes, it’s nice.

“Hey, doc?” Tony asks as the whole group walks back to the helicarrier, “Do we need you to talk to medical? What’s that on your chest?”

Bruce looks down and sure enough poking out of the emergency blanket is the same oblong mark that had appeared a few weeks earlier, only darker and maybe a little greener too.

“I don’t know,” Bruce says, and he pulls the blanket tighter around himself, his shoulder muscles their typical tense mess as he thinks about how great it’d be to just get home, “It’s been there a bit. I don’t worry about it.”

Bruce flees from Tony’s custody as soon as he’s on the ship and he goes to find some clothes and move on with his life. His life’s been filled with one too many biological mysteries to dwell on a little slightly green spot on his chest. Even if said slightly green spot seemed to correspond with a certain weird, fluttery feeling in his chest.

The third time the mark shows up, it has nothing to do with the Hulk and that’s when Bruce starts to get worried.

The Avengers has spent the day training, but Bruce hadn’t felt up to bringing the Hulk out, so he sat in a corner and meditated with his teammates when they took a step out of the ring. When they decide they’re done for the day, sweaty and just shy of overworked, Thor demands ice cream for the whole group of them.

They traipse into Coldstone Creamery and nearly bring the building down with them. The look on Thor’s face is worth the shock of the other customers.

“Banner!” Thor turns to Bruce, an elated smile spread across his face and a ginormous waffle cone held in his hands, “This delicious treat is like mafic! I wish for you to feel this same euphoria as I do! Please, taste it!”

For some reason, Bruce doesn’t resist.

He takes a big ol’ lick of Thor’s ice cream. He’s never been crazy about chocolate chip cookie dough, but it certainly tastes like magic.

Bruce smiles, and for once everything feels deceptively normal… okay even, edging onto alarmingly happy.

Then Nat pushes Clint off his chair and straight into Mjolnir and Captain America is scolding a couple of notorious international spies for acting like children as Tony Stark poses dramatically for a coupe ofpoorlyhidden paparazzi, and Bruce is reminded of how absolutely absurd his life is.

Thor wraps his arm around the back of Bruce’s chair and he finds himself melting into it anyway. It’s weird.

He doesn’t notice that the mark has come back, darker than ever, until he gets home and into his bed and he looks down.

“Well, shit,” Bruce says aloud to himself, because no harm had been done to his body in at least a week and he honestly has no other explanations for it.

He decides then an there that maybe it’d be appropriate to consult a professional.

He calls Helen Cho up the very next day, and though the mark had certainly dimmed since the previous night, it’s undeniably still there, and she promises over the phone to come by and check it out by noon.

Brice is used to not knowing what the hell is going on inside of his own body, but this feels different.

Thor comes by, once or twice actually, because for some reason he can tell something’s off with Bruce’s mood, but Bruce just shakes his head and sends him on his way. No use getting other people in a tizzy about things too.

Helen comes by at noon on the dot, and while Bruce is busy thanking her profusely for taking the time to come by, she ushers him into a chair and tsks at him.

“You’re a friend, Bruce,” She tells him, “I’d think even you’d be able to tell that by now. So you gotta tell me, what’s up?”

He very shyly unbuttons his shirt and shows her the strange spot on his chest. She makes an offhand comment about how it’d be about where his heart is. Bruce doesn’t see why that particularly matters unless it means he has some advanced skin/heart cancer hybrid that has yet to exist. With Bruce’s luck, he wouldn’t be surprised.

She pokes and prods and hums quixotically, all without betraying any clue as to what the blemish might be in actuality.

Thor comes by for a third time a little bit later while Helen’s taking Bruce’s blood pressure for good measure, and his eyes grow wide in concern.

“Fair Bruce!” He exclaims, as dramatic as ever as Helen peels the contraption off of Bruce’s arm. Thor hovers anxiously at his side, rests a big hand on Bruce’s bare shoulder, “Are you all right?”

Bruce can’t get any words out. It’s all too much to be shirtless and insecure and honestly a little scared and then have Thor’s insanely comforting presence somehow manage to mellow everything out. He just sits there and nods like a mad bobble head until Thor leaves, that increasingly familiar feeling residing in his chest.

Thor smiles in the doorway, one fit out and the other in, a large grip around the frame, “Feel better, dear friend!” He exclaims, then bounds away like the wind.

The door shuts loudly behind him, and suddenly Helen’s giggling.

“You really don’t know, do you? Look down.”

The mark’s definitely darker now than before, by a lot too.

“What’s wrong with me, Helen? Is it- What’s this mean for the hulk?”

“Doctor Banner,” She says, unspooling her stethoscope and taking a seat across from him, “I say this with all due respect, but you’re a moron.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a soulmark, Bruce,” She says and sits back, waits for it to soak in.

“No way, there’s- that’s never been proven.”

“The green shape on your chest suggests otherwise.”

“But I don’t have a soulmate, Helen.”

“Again, look down at the mark on your chest please.”

“Well- who then?”

“You’re an idiot. Think.”

Brice has always been pretty good at thinking. In fact, overthinking is his specialty. So he thinks back. He thinks back to when it first appeared, a strong hand helping him up. To when he woke up, a smiling face before him. To that feeling in his stomach. To the softness in the room. It must show on his face when everything clicks because Helen clicks her tongue, satisfied, “Ah, there it is. I believe I’ve helped you as much as I can here, Bruce. The rest is up to you. Good luck.”

And just like that she leaves having dropped the biggest bombshell of Bruce’s life on him (since the last actual bombshell had been thrown at him at least). He didn’t know what do with himself.

This didn’t just mean he had feelings, deniable, repressible feelings. No, the mere presence of a mark meant that there was somebody out there who’s soul marched his own, a time-tested other half. It’s a strange thought for Bruce, but the longer he dwells on it the more it makes sense.

He thinks of the touches, the lingering eyes, the fluttering stomach. And the face that’s built up opposite him in his mind every time is… Thor. Thor with his huge hands and warm smile, the way he somehow makes any place with him feel like home to Bruce.

Thor comes in later that evening because that’s what he does. He’s kind and caring and blindly pokes himself in his friends’ business. Bruce realizes startlingly that he loved this behemoth of a man.

“Young Bruce!” Thor cheers as he enters Bruce’s private living room, “How is my dear companion’s health? I hope he is well!”

“Uh huh, yeah great,” Bruce mumbles and strides toward the god, hands outstretched and fingers questing. Before Thor can react, he’s wrapping his hands around his wrists, pulling him close, “Learned a lot about myself actually. Important stuff. Good stuff.”

Thor looks curious, content.

Then Bruce grabs onto Thor’s collar and pulls him into a kiss.

The contact of lips on lips tells everything Bruce needed. Soulmates. Huh.

When they split apart, panting, Thor grins, “This is a feeling we can continue to consider?”

“Yeah,” Bruce chuckled, “I think the universe’d certainly like that.”

If anybody knew about signs from the universe, it’d be a god, or a partner. Bruce doesn’t care which. All he knows is that the mark on his chest glows stronger than ever and the feeling in his stomach is like a million birds migrating away from home. His hands wrapped around Thor, Bruce knows, suddenly, that he’s already home.

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leiyahime · 6 years

Text

The Party

New fanfic. Again Voltron x’D Sry not sorry.

At a party on a small planet the local souvereign introduces the Voltron Paladins and the Atlas crew as if they had never met. Shiro and Keith decide to go with it.

The party

God, this was going to be a boring evening. Keith hated diplomatic acts. He hated his duty to represent power and safety, but as the Black Paladin he didn’t always get around these things. The only! thing he was looking for tonight was that it wasn’t only Voltron present but also Atlas! And that meant he would finally see Shiro again! After eight too long phoebs of separate missions in different parts of the universe he would be reunited with his boyfriend of now… nearly ten years. And he still hated to be separated from this man especially when they weren’t able to keep any form of contact because of sheer distance. The universe was simply much too large and communication over light years was still hard to maintain even with Voltron and Atlas. Even the world’s mightiest robots had to obey the laws of nature after all.

But now they had contact for a few days again and tonight Atlas was supposed to arrive as well. Keith was a bit giddy when he dressed up in his formal attire, a suit which contained earth and Galra elements to represent his status as member of both ethnics and a peace keeping link.

There was a knock on his door and after a few seconds – he couldn’t even answer it – the other four Paladins entered his room in this planet’s castle.

“And? Excited?” Lance asked with one of the broadest grins Keith had seen him make.

“I’ll be bored to death”, Keith replied, already assuming that this wasn’t what Lance meant and he was proven right:

“I don’t mean the party! That is my metier! I mean Shiro! You guys haven’t met in ages!”

“I don’t think Shiro and I are any of your business!” Keith replied. Really their relationship was theirs. They didn’t really hide it. Everyone of the paladins or the Atlas’ crew had seen them kissing at one point or the other. Nevertheless they still kept it down, barely called each other pet names in front of others and people who didn’t know them mostly thought they were close friends.

“Oh Keithy I just want my leader to be happy, and so I also care about his relationship!” Lance grinned broadly.

“My relationship is just fine, thank you. Let’s go. We have some representation to do.” Keith sighed. One last look into the mirror and he decided he looked good enough. Then they left the room and went over to the ceremony hall where they were greeted by this planet’s leader. Keith couldn’t pronounce the title but assumed that it was similar to a king. His name was equally unpronounceable so Lance had decided to call him Ted instead because he was tall and hairy (like all of his people) and he didn’t mind that nickname.

“I’m so happy you are here Paladins.” Ted said with a happy smile. “There are no burdens for tonight! I just want to celebrate peace with you!”

“So no need for cheesy speeches?” Keith asked full of hope.

“Exactly. Just celebrating. I guess you will…” But Ted couldn’t finish his sentence because the doors of the hall swung open and the crew of the Atlas entered the room also dressed in their formal attire and the sovereign went to greet them as well.

Keith gulped. Even now after all this time as a couple and many years of close friendship before, Takashi Shirogane still stole his breath. He wanted nothing more than to run towards him and jump into his strong arms but he knew better. Patience yields focus he told himself. He would not blemish Voltron’s reputation by acting like a lovesick teenager.

They went over as well and Ted beamed. Before anyone could greet their friends he said: “I don’t think you’ve met before, right? This is the crew of the Atlas under Captain Shirogane my close friend! Good to see you again!” he said and shook Shiro’s hand enthusiastically. “And these are the Paladins of Voltron. Keith Kogane, their leader.” Lance started to laugh but was harshly elbowed by Pidge who looked at the situation curiously.

Keith looked at Shiro and some kind of mischief sparkled in both their eyes. Shiro stepped forward and gracefully took Keith’s hand. “I’m honoured to finally meeting the black Paladin”, he said with a slight bow, expression deeply serious.

“The honour is on my side, Captain.” Keith also bowed his head.

“Atlas’ crew is from a small planet called Earth on the far end of the universe. But I guess you know it, right? At least I’ve heard a few of your Paladins are also from that planet.” Ted said not noticing the quiet murmurs of the crews; or interpreting them as surprise because of the same home planet instead of their leaders’ antics.

Lance was about to say something when Pidge and Hunk went forth to greet the other earthlings in the group and Allura acted surprised to find another Altean in Atlas’ crew and went to greet Coran. Shiro’s crew got the hint and finally, after even Lance got it, he shrugged and acted along, greeting his own sister as if he had never met her before.

Keith grinned. “I had feared tonight would be terribly boring. But I think, Captain, it developed for the better.”

“I can only return that. Do you mind getting a drink? I’m curious about you.”

“Not at all!” Keith laughed and accepted the offered arm. “Although I don’t think I’m a very interesting person.”

Shiro led him to the bar and ordered their favourite drinks. “Well, the way you present yourself tells me otherwise. You proudly wear Earth and Galra elements. And your scar indicates a very intense battle. That clearly speaks of a remarkable life.”

Keith couldn’t help but blush as he accepted his drink. He didn’t quite believe how this man could still make his heart flutter despite knowing each other inside out.

He let the topic of the scar drop immediately. He still didn’t like talking about it too much, the other thing... “My father was a human. My mother is a member of the Blade of Marmora. I don’t know if you have heard of them.”

“I totally have! And you say your life isn’t interesting!”

“It sounds more interesting than it is...” Really. He didn’t want to brag about himself. He wasn’t proud of most of the things he’s done in his life.

“Care to elaborate?” Shiro asked with some kind of... worry in his eyes.

Keith hesitated. He could break this game off any time he knew that. He could say no but... He just took a sip from his drink.

“It’s nothing... Just I... It was a very long way to become the person I am today... It was far from easy to suddenly be a team leader I never wanted to be.”

“You didn’t?” Shiro also sipped on his glass. They had found a halfway quiet place near a wall where they could watch the party.

“Nope. Not at all. My best friend assigned me to the post in case he couldn’t lead the team anymore. I really felt thrown back. You know, I never wanted to lead... But he thought I would fit into his footsteps...”

“To be honest, I have to take his side. I’ve only heard good things about Voltron under your leadership. Your friend made a wise choice.” Shiro smiled and Keith wanted to hit him. But he didn’t perhaps this was a chance to talk about things, they never addressed...

“I... As I said it took me years to grow into the position... He vanished and... seemed to return... And I ran... spent much time with the Blades because I didn’t want the responsibility. I felt so... lost...”

“I... am sorry to hear that.” Shiro said. Keith had never before admitted these feelings. “But you said he... seemed to return?”

“He died while fighting Zarkon. We got a clone back. Even I didn’t recognize it wasn’t him but perhaps it was because of my own fears... I wasn’t a good leader in the beginning unlike him... I wanted to reach our goal but I didn’t feel the individual strengths of my team... god, I so messed up...” Kith gulped down the rest of his drink.

“You did what you considered right. No one is a born leader.”

“He is!”

Shiro laughed. “Are you sure? There are people out there with natural authority but that alone doesn’t make you a good leader. Don’t you think your friend gathered his experience otherwise?”

Keith thought for a moment. “How did you learn to lead a team?” Perhaps the direct approach was better. They were playing a game right now after all. “If you want to answer that...”

The tall man next to him shrugged. “Trial and error. Listening to my team and their wishes. Getting to know them.”

“I am not the most social person or even very empathic. I guess that makes things even more difficult for me.” He thought back to the beginning of his leadership and all the mistakes he had made. “I... wanted everything at once, didn’t consider the fact that one of my team members had never piloted one of the lions before and one had to get used to another lion and didn’t have a knack with piloting as I have... I have failed them and it crashed my self-esteem... So when the clone appeared I gladly pushed him into my friend’s position by assisting the Blades...”

“I see... I didn’t know... I’m sorry.” Shiro looked at him breaking character. Keith knew he had the clone’s memories. Keith smiled a bit.

“It’s fine. Everything turned out well. I found my mother during that time and considered the team safe...”

“But it wasn’t...”

Keith nodded. “You know... my friend beat himself up because of what his clone did... But it wasn’t his fault no matter how much he feels like this. The clone was controlled by the witch Haggar...” Absentmindedly he touched the scar on his cheek.

“It was him who gave you that scar?” Shiro asked slipping back into character. “It must have hurt him like hell to see what he had done...”

“It did. It took him long enough until he lost the pained expression whenever he looked at me. And... I don’t even know if he still beats himself up for it...” They had never talked about that. At one point Shiro had accepted it but...

“It’s a pity to do this to a pretty face like yours... Especially when you feel like it’s your fault.” Now it was Shiro who drowned a big gulp of his drink. “But perhaps he noted he couldn’t beat himself up for it forever, especially since you seem to have forgiven him so easily. And you really seem to be close.”

“It wasn’t him! He would never endanger his friends! He loves them all too much! Especially me...” Keith noticed a small blush on Shiro’s cheeks and smiled. Then he emptied a drink. “Enough of these heavy topics. You wanna dance?” he asked and placed the empty glass on a butler’s tray.

Shiro did the same and offered Keith his right arm who took it.

“That’s a really... stylish prosthetic,” he noted.

“Yeah. Altean technology and Alchemy.”

“They are great, those Alteans, aren’t they?”

“A bit crazy from time to time, but yeah.”

They both laughed and Shiro swayed him into his arms to lead him around to the gentle sounds of music.

“What kind of music do you like?” Shiro asked.

“Rock music, and some kinds of metal!”

Shiro nodded and smiled. They danced to not only this song but the next two as well and talked and laughed. The heavy mood slowly disappeared and both seemed to be happy they had talked about these topics again. Another step to get each other even better.

“I... haven’t asked... Do you have a... special someone?” Keith asked slyly after they took a break from dancing and enjoyed another drink.

“Err... well... to be honest... yes... There is someone in my life.”

“So? Seems to be a boring person, when you spend your evening here flirting with me...” Keith tried to pout.

“He’s far from boring! He’s amazing in every aspect! He has everything I have not! I can’t even find adequate words to describe him. And on top of that he’s the most beautiful person I’ve seen in the whole universe. He’s half Galra like you and... I still love him so much although we are together now for ten deca-phoebs. So... sorry if you had any hopes...” Shiro said apologetically.

Keith couldn’t help but blush. He wanted to break it all off right now and kiss Shiro and drag him to their rooms in the Atlas but... not yet. Patience!

“Then why are you flirting with me?” he asked.

“You remind me of him. You have the same kind of fire in your eyes. The fire I had noticed the moment I first saw him. And which had fascinated me from the very beginning. As I said sorry if I got your hopes up.”

Keith shook his head. “It’s fine. Besides... I have someone as well.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. So I guess, it’s fine.”

“What’s your partner like?” Shiro asked now smirking. Keith would wipe that grin off his face! He had just received a confession that had made his legs go weak, he could do the same!

“He... is the strongest person I’ve ever met! Handsome inside and out. He’s been through so much but still has a strong grip on his life. I don’t know if there’s anything that could make him fall. He once picked me up from the bottom and gave me something to strive for. He never stopped believing in me and... He made me the one I am today. I always wanted to be like him... with his gentle strength but... that’s his point. I can only adore him for who he is. Sometimes it’s still hard to believe he really wants a total mess like me.”

“Why isn’t he at your side then?” Shiro asked. His cheeks also pink from the loving words. Mission accomplished.

“He’s Captain of another ship and we had separate missions... We’re not very often lucky enough to work together all the times. And we haven’t seen each other in... Quite a while.”

“Do you miss him?” Shiro asked.

“All the time he’s not at my side. Even if he leaves just for five minutes” He looked up at Shiro and felt his heart race.

Shiro bowed down and gently pecked his lips. “I’ve missed you, too. And I’m so glad to have you back. I... love you.”

Keith smiled and leaned to Shiro’s side. “Want another dance? And then go back to our room?”

“I’d love to. The bed has missed you dearly, as well.”

“I’ve missed the bed, too. Especially with you inside. Without clothes.”

Shiro laughed again and kissed him once more. This time a bit more demanding. “You know there is one thing that can make me break... And that’d be losing you!”

Keith smiled gently. “I won’t leave your side. You’ll never lose me.”

“Is this alright?” Ted asked Veronica and pointed to Keith and Shiro who quietly left the room looking deeply into each other’s eyes and kissing and touching each other clearly having further plans. “I mean... Captain Shirogane had told me about his relationship... wouldn’t his partner be angry if I let this happen?”

Veronica looked at him and then laughed. “Don’t worry, your Majesty. It’s all fine. No one will be mad and no one will be cheated on. And now excuse me, I guess my baby brother is about to do something stupid again!” She said and rushed to Lance’s side who was ripping his clothes off in an attempt to drunkenly flirt with his long time girlfriend Allura who was completely uninterested and scolded Coran for one of his antics.

Ted looked after her. “Baby brother?” Apparently he had been fooled the whole evening.

#Voltron #sheith #keith kogane #takashi shirogane #my writing

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reactivebangtan · 7 years

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REQUEST: hi!!! could you please do bts cuddling their gf ?? super fluffy please and thank you ! 💞 REQUESTED BY: anonymous WARNINGS: none! NOTES: i did these like mini drabbles so this post is hella long im so sorrynlifdsk

jin couldn’t pick any particular moment as his favorite with you, because he loves them all — the noisy ones shared in the kitchen, or the quiet ones spent worlds apart in your own little activities but connected by the lazy linking of your fingers, or even the ones kept tightly wrapped between the two of you with barely enough room to breathe — but he supposes if he had to choose this sort would probably make the top of his list. your body angled just right against his, scooped up into his embrace and laid beside him like the perfect little puzzle piece, listening to the soft sound of your breathing and the lull of city life just outside your bedroom window. the flat of his palm finds purchase against the expanse of your stomach just beneath the material of your shirt, his other toying with the splayed and tangled strands of your hair spread haphazardly over the pillows; everything smells like you, feels like you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. the peace and tranquility of it all is only ever interrupted by his sleepy dulcet tones, and you can feel each word vibrate against your back and sink into your bones. ❝ you think we could get away with staying like this forever? ❞

with his nose buried against the juncture of your throat and your shoulder, he burrows himself in your warmth entirely and surrounds himself in you. he’s always very specific about the way he lays himself against you, half on top of you and half around you, clinging and hugging and holding you ever tighter. while yoongi doesn’t necessarily always have trouble falling asleep, it always seems easier with you around — he doesn’t even need to say a word, simply flopping down beside you and rolling into your embrace like you’d done it a thousand times before. his arms always find purchase against the curve of your waist and his fingers splay out against your bare skin, kneading your flesh like a contented feline and purring his gratitude just the same. almost immediately his breathing slows and his heart calms and every troubling thought seems to leave his head; there’s only you. and, just before he falls into the tempting grips of slumber, he mumbles sleepily against the column of your throat, breath warm and words warmer: ❝ i missed you. ❞

his embrace is warm — being wrapped up in solely him and the duvet is like basking in the sunlight, like letting the light swallow you up and bathing you in constant and unyielding comfort. the silence and sleepy atmosphere is only ever interrupted by his fingers skittering up your side or teasing the skin of your arm if only to hear even the slightest hint of your laughter; hoseok seems to revel in these quiet moments with you the most, where you don’t need words to speak for you and all you can do is envelop one another so completely. despite hugging you so tightly, though, he’s careful with the marks he leaves and only ever peppers your flesh with butterfly kisses and loving whispers, patterns traced with the tips of his fingers and sweet little nothings all mixed inbetween. ❝ i love this, ❞ he’ll whisper into your ear, or your hair, or the skin of your temple — anywhere his lips can touch — and smile just as delicately as the gentle chiming of his voice. ❝ i love you. ❞

there’s always a book involved — it doesn’t matter who’s reading it or what it’s about, simply that it’s there and you’re sure that these sorts of moments are stored safely between the pages of everything from dystopian fiction to the cheesiest romance novels where the ink seems to mirror the atmosphere. it almost always lays forgotten in either of your laps, pages opened and inviting, but ignored all the same; sure, it had had your attention only moments before, but a simple shift and suddenly nothing was more important than the way you just fit against one another. namjoon’s arm comes to be lazily slung over your shoulders and his lips find the top of your head, all while pulling you in even tighter. he never minds the distraction, never complains about being drug out of his newest adventure, because he’s always far more invested in your own. eventually, that very book is cast aside and he’s dragging you down with him until your heads share the same pillow and he can feel the way your whole body molds to his. you’re never more comfortable than you are there, held tightly in his grip, and you both fall into a steady rhythm of heartbeats and breaths and the little fluttering of his fingers against yours. it isn’t until the first dregs of sleep begin to whisper at his eyelids and your fingers twitch against his that he always notices one little problem: ❝ we left the light on. ❞

you’re nose-to-nose and even though your eyes are closed you know he’s looking at you — you can’t imagine that you can see very much up this close and surely all your blemishes stick out, but he can’t seem to get enough. still, you don’t complain, because as much as you know that his honeyed eyes are on you, you also know that a smile just as sweet as the thick amber of his irises is laden across his lips. with jimin’s fingers and legs tangled in your own, you don��t know where your breathing starts and where his end, but you know that you’re comfortable here; this is a familiar place, a familiar setting, something comfortable and warm and always so inviting. every once and a while he’ll break the staring contest with the fluttering of your eyelids and press little kisses to the tip of your nose or meld your smiles together, all while you giggle into his mouth and call his name just as gently as the moment itself. he loves the way it rolls off your tongue, yellowed like a sunflower and blooming under his affection so much that it lilts your voice and paints every letter with something so soft and undeniably loving. ❝ Y/N. ❞ he always says your name in return, hoping you can hear it, too.

taehyung’s fingers are woven through strands of your hair and the pads of his fingers play with the delicate skin of your scalp, your head laid in his lap; it’s his preferred way to ‘cuddle’, because paying you attention never seems to tire him. loose strands are brushed from your face and every so often he’ll trace the delicate lines of your face, trailing to the tip of your nose and back again. dark eyes watch the way your facial expression changes with all his little touches, and he revels in each and every reaction as if each one is just as rewarding as the last, no matter how big or small. a forgotten television show or the music pouring through the speakers is all forgotten with the simplest touch, the slightest movement, and once your eyes flutter closed it seems every sense is honed onto him and him alone. your fingers always find his eventually, though, and they intertwine as easily as breathing — he could never say no to holding you like this, to touching you in any way you allow, to simply being with you, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. maybe it’s the way you react to his touch or the way you feel beneath it, but something just feels right — he savors the sensation, lets it build a home in his chest, and keeps you there with it. ❝ you’re so pretty like this, ❞ he finally says, his baritone voice breaking the trance and forcing your eyes to open just so you can look into his own — you always react so well to his everything. ❝ i’m glad you save this for me. ❞

jungkook might be huge, but he likes it when you wrap yourself around him like he isn’t — one leg thrown over his hips and both arms wound around him lazily, his head tucked beneath your chin. he feels safe, here, warm, as if you’ve built your own little bubble and are hidden away inside it. everything else seems distant, and all his worries seem to wash away with the tides of tenderness emanating from your very being; to be wrapped up in you is to be wrapped in love, afterall. briefly, he forgets about his newest anxieties and all the little things he’d been complaining to you about only minutes prior, and all he knows is you. your heart beat beats a steady rhythm and hums with his own, tangling into a wordless melody, stuttering only with the gentle tapping of his fingers against the expanse of your back. he doesn’t touch you with urgency or purpose, but with familiarity, as if touching his own skin — lingering caresses that speak to just how much he doesn’t want to go anywhere else, doesn’t want to be anywhere else, but here. eventually, his breath will fan over the exposed skin of your collar and make you shiver: ❝ i love you. ❞

#requests.#reactions.#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts reacts to #bts reader insert #bts fluff #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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ohmyjinkies · 6 years

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Beauty and the Beast - Richonne Modern Day AU

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart. ~Helen Keller

“Ex-Yankees starting pitcher, Rick Grimes was never a vain man. Still, a near-fatal accident left him with enough scars to make him want to hide away from the world. Now the only beauty left in his blemished llife are his two grown kids, his weekly Sunday dinners with his daughter Judith and his beloved flower garden. Scarred, body and mind, he could not see beauty outside of those three treasured things. For 23-year-old Judith Grimes, life was finally falling into place. Freshly graduated from journalism school and armed with a passion for fashion, she’s landed a coveted internship at the powerhouse fashion magazine, Rive. As assistant to the New York City’s most powerful and iconic editor-in-chief, Michonne Dumas, Judith is living her dreams and learning at the feet of a legend. A global fashion tastemaker, former model turned magazine editor, Michonne Dumas had heard the word "beautiful” thrown around so liberally that it had started to lose its meaning. Ironically though, she knew as the originator of the coveted “Dumas Look”, she had created the unattainable fashion ideal of perfection that drove her and the whole industry. Secretly, however, she had begun to despair that she was becoming numb to all things physically beautiful. That is, until she notices the lovely flowers her new junior assistant has on her desk every week. Fresh blooms from Judith’s father’s garden, the bouquets continually seem to brighten Michonne’s day. Before long, those delicate blooms from the amateur horticulturist become a welcome daily reprieve from her relentless pursuit of physical perfection. And when Michonne finally meets Judith’s mysterious father Rick at the company’s charity ballgame, as the young woman hoped, sparks do indeed fly. Though, to Judith’s chagrin, not the romantic kind. Yet, it is from that very first encounter that they both begin to learn —things of true beauty can also be things which are deemed imperfect.“

Tale as old as time…

Rick was already missing his garden. The sky was blue and cloudless. The sun was bright, but there was no humidity in the atmosphere. It was the perfect day for puttering around with his flowers. But he had promised his daughter, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

He was thankful that the baseball cap fit low enough on his head to cast shadows around his face. The throwing gloves he wore hid the patchwork, Frankenstein-esque scars on his hands. He could no longer run even a mile, but physical therapy made it possible for his limp to be hardly noticeable. Although, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep up with the fast strides of his daughter.

He held on to her forearm. “Judy, you know your dad’s an old man. Slow down some.”

People were milling around all over. He felt his chest tightening and his breaths coming out faster. He’d adapted to his solitude over the years, only welcoming the company of his children. Crowds of people made him nervous now.

Judy tossed her head back to look at her father. The bouncing curls of her chic bob haircut matched his greying curls perfectly. Always attuned to him, she recognized the apprehension in his eyes. She squeezed his hand, but didn’t slow down.

“Daddy, I wish you would stop calling yourself an old man. You’re not even fifty yet.”

Rick shrugged. “Forty-five is pretty near fifty.”

“You have to wait at least twenty more years to collect Social Security, so you’re not old.”

“My knees beg to differ. Why are we walking so fast? There’s still an hour until the game starts.”

“I know, but I want to make sure I’m not late in case I’m needed to help with any last minute details.”

“It’s just a charity baseball game. Should go smoothly. You worry all the time like your mother used to.”

She shot him a sad smile. “That’s what Grandma always says too. Guess it’s in my DNA. I just want to make a good impression. Show Michonne she can trust me with the details. She’s so great. I don’t want to let her down.”

“Michonne is your boss, right? Calling bosses by their first names in the office is a thang now? Back in my day—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Judith cut him off. “Back in your day you rode cows to school. Grew your own wheat or whatever. I know Daddy. Maybe you really are an old man.”

Rick chuckled. “Actually, your uncle Hershel grew vegetables, not wheat on his farm.”

“What I said still applies, old man.” She pointed to a woman whose back was to them. Her locs were long and reached down past the middle of her back “There she is. Let me introduce you. And please be nice and personable, Daddy.”

Rick smirked. “Aren’t I always?”

Judith laughed and rolled her eyes. “Nope.”

His smirk faded as they walked closer. Having new people in his orbit unsettled him. He tried to pull his cap further down, but it wouldn’t budge.

Michonne turned around as she heard footsteps approaching her. Rick had seen her pictures in the fashion magazines Judith used to read as a teen. He always passively admired her beauty, but he didn’t expect the radiant women before him. She was dressed down in a custom baseball jersey with her magazine’s name written in gold letters on the front. Her black shorts showed off her shapely legs. Her smile was warm and sincere as she immediately pulled Judith into a hug. She smiled at him over his daughter’s shoulder. He looked down at his shoes as a wave of insecurity washed over him

Judith, not picking up on her father’s reluctance for once, pulled him in closer. “Michonne, this is my Dad, Rick Grimes.”

Michonne’s smiled widened making her even more beautiful than Rick first thought.

“Ah,” she said. “So this is the doting father who makes sure his daughter always has beautiful, fresh flowers on her desk. Very nice to finally meet you, Rick.” She held out her hand to shake.

He clasped her hand. He could feel the smoothness even through his gloves. “Nice to meet you too, ma’am.”

Michonne chuckled. “I missed that southern charm. Don’t get much of that here in New York.”

“Michonne is originally from Georgia too, Daddy. Atlanta, not a small town like you.”

“Yes, born and raised,” Michonne said. “I still get homesick for sweet tea, and my aunt’s sweet potato pie.” She pulled the young woman aside. “Judith, could you go help Sasha and Jackie with setting up the magazine display near the entrance?”

“Of course Michonne.” She kissed Rick on the cheek. “I’ll be right back, Daddy.”

He watched her rush off wondering when his little girl became a grown and responsible adult. He turned back to Michonne, who was still smiling at him. His nervous tick was to run his hands through his hair. He felt the urge to at that moment, but he thought better of removing his cap.

“So,” She took a step closer to him. “I didn’t put two and two together when Judith told me her father’s name was Rick Grimes. You’re the same Grimes that played for the Braves and the Yankees, right?”

Rick looked down as if he was almost embarrassed at her knowing who he was. “Yeah. That was me. Didn’t think anyone in the fashion industry would recognize an old baseball player.”

Michonne gestured her hand around the baseball field where they were standing. “Well, we are at a charity baseball game. Beside lots of fashion models date baseball players.” She whispered as if conspiring with him. “It’s a bit of a thing.”

Rick laughed. “That is true. Many of my teammates dated models. And playmates.”

Michonne chuckled. “I bet.” She tossed one of her long locs behind her shoulder. “Besides that, my own father was a huge Braves fan. I used to watch the games with him. David Justice was his favorite player, but you came a close second. He hated when you left and signed with the Yankees.”

“I almost regretted it. I missed home a lot when I moved up here with the kids. Though I did miss David most of all. He was my favorite too.”

Her smile radiated even more. “So you and my father will have lots to talk about if you ever meet.”

He nodded and laughed. “Yeah, our very own David Justice fan club.”

Her voice lowered a couple of octaves as she tilted her head to the side. “I remember reading about your accident, and saying a few prayers for your recovery.”

Rick nodded. “I appreciate that. God was looking out for me that day. My kids didn’t need to endure the cruelty of losing both of their parents.”

“Judith talks about her mom sometimes. She and her brother were both pretty young when you lost her, I remember her saying.”

“Yeah. Judith was barely out of diapers, and my son, Carl, was in the first grade.”

“Had to be tough to continue your baseball career, and raise two kids.”

“It was. Very grateful for my mom though. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

“I know all about the miracle of grandmothers. My mom died when I was young also. Spent so much precious time with my Granny. Judith and I have bonded over some shared experiences. She’s a great kid.”

He smiled. “I always thought so too, even if I’m kinda biased.”

“The best dads always are.” She clapped her hands together. “So, the game will be starting soon. I know you’re an all-star, future hall of famer, but I was known to hit a few home runs in pick-up softball when I was a kid. So don’t think you’re going to strike me out.”

Almost feeling like his old, cocky self when it came to his baseball skills, he crossed his armsover his chest and smirked at her. “Is that right?”

She winked at him. “All I’m saying is watch yourself.”

A woman with a short afro came up to Michonne and whispered in her ear. She nodded and told the woman she would be right there.

“Editor-in-chief duties call, but I’ll see you on the mound, Rick Grimes.” He smiled a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in years at anyone other than his children. “Can’t wait.” (” The First Meet“ - Flash Fic written by @blacklitchick )

I want to say a HUGE Thank you! to my two collaborators @blacklitchick and @iminyjo <3. The both of you have been amazing during this project’s lengthy journey ;) -xo OMJ.

#richonne #au!series #omj #*mine #Beauty and the Beast - Richonne Modern Day AU #this is not a fic #just a fun what if plot project #please don't ask me to write it because I can't write - period

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friendswithbusinesses · 6 years

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Prologue

Today is the day, Theodore “Ted” Stone thought to himself excitedly as he dashed around his office in a frenzy. Today is the day! Ted was nearly shaking out of his clothes in excitement as he approached the full length mirror to check his appearance. As always, his attention went to his face first. His eyes roamed his coal black hair and used a small comb hidden in his sleeve to correct any loose hairs and made sure the cowlick that he had was tamed and spiked up just the way he liked it. Checking his teeth to ensure no plague had dared to appear on this special occasion, a small blemish could be seen on his left canine. Ted used his tongue to polish it away and sighed in relief when it vanished easily.

Satisfied with his face, his attention went to his tie. He couldn’t help but smile to himself at the sight of it. It was like any ordinary tie except that the color was striped with a bright yellow and lime green. It hurt your eyes to look at it, but that’s what made it perfect. Seeing no wrinkles or stains, Ted focused on his suit.

Ted was a large man standing at 6’3” and had a very muscular body. He worked out every morning before work and finding suits that fit his height and muscle structure was a bit of a pain, but damn he looked good. While inspecting the suit, he flexed his pecs and biceps and preened a little at how well the suit complimented his figure. Even his shoes were polished to perfection. Realizing that he was wasting time, he made a clicking noise with his tongue and continued his professional inspection of his office.

Dust was nowhere to be seen, the wood furniture was polished, and the trash was taken out, but looking around the room, Ted couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. His gaze scanned carefully around the room, looking for a clue to help jog his memory. When he looked at his desk, he noticed the small space on the top of it between his computer and phone. “Ah hah!” He said aloud to himself as he finally remembered and ran to the closet to pull out a small, but long, box.

Ted’s fingers shook with excitement as he pulled out the brand new name plate and he quickly walked to his desk to put the item in the empty space. Once in place, Ted took a few steps back to make sure that the nameplate was centered and couldn’t stop a childish giggle from escaping his lips. The giggle was cut short when Ted heard his phone beep, the sign that his secretary, Danni Mason, was trying to page him. He walked around his desk and sat on it as he presses the “com” button.

“Why hello, Miss Mason, how may I help you?”

“Your guest has arrived, Mr. Stone.” Danni replied. Danni was his best friend despite being his secretary. She was almost as tall as him with her head just below his ear. Her hair was black and she enjoyed dying the tips and bangs with vibrant colors and re-dyed them often. This time her hair tips were dyed an electric blue. Danni was a bit of a workaholic, but Ted liked that. He was a man who slacked off every chance he got, but Danni was quick to keep him working, often popping into his office unannounced to make sure he was doing his job and not just watching cat videos on the internet all day.

“Send him up, please,” Ted told her politely and pressed the button again to turn off the speaker. She really was a hard worker, maybe he should give her a raise. Ted had to shake those thoughts out of his head. His guest would be here in a few minutes and everything had to be perfect.

He stood up from his desk and looked down at his expensive, yet comfortable, rolling office chair. On the seat was a magnificent white Persian cat resting atop a red velvet throw pillow with gold tassels. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sky blue collar with a name tag and bell. He gently scratched the old cat under her chin and carefully put the collar on her. With the cat purring her contentment, Ted carefully picked up the pillow, with the cat still on it, and sat down in the chair and placed the pillow on his lap. The cat grumbled as she stood up and spun around in a few slow circles to try to get comfortable again. Finding a nice spot, she plopped herself down and her bell jingled slightly has she landed.

She licked a forepaw and caught Ted looking at her and she meowed at him, demanding to be pet. Chuckling at the spoiled feline, he quickly obliged and stroked her fur as he used his feet to wheel his office chair behind the deck and carefully spun himself around so his back would be facing the door. As he settled down and pet the huge cat, Ted heard a soft knock on his door.

“Come in,” he called without turning around. This is it!!

The door creaked slightly as his guest stepped into the room. He heard his guest pause and decided this was the moment to turn around. Stroking the cat in long, exaggerated movements, Ted smiled broadly and turned the chair around very slowly. “Richard Cobble! We’ve been expecting you.”

Richard was a man similar to looks and build to Ted, except Richard had light brown hair and kept it short, where Ted let his hair grow to barely touch his shoulders. Richard looked at the man who summoned him and winced when he saw that god awful tie. Ted’s smile became a little bit bigger at that. “So,” Richard began. “What’s the emergency?”

“Did I say emergency over the phone?” Richard’s eye ticked slightly at Ted’s super sweet tone, instantly realizing that he’d been played. “I’m so sorry for the miscommunication for I noticed last week that you just moved your business right cross the street from me and I thought there’s no better way to starting a new business relationship than showing you my new cat.”

Ted gestured to the furry animal on his lap and Richard’s gaze left Ted’s to see the furry creature and it didn’t take him long to recognize it. “Is that my cat? How the hell did you get her?” Richard demanded. Ted’s hideous tie distracted him from giving the cat a proper inspection when he first saw it. “Return Princess Sugar Pop to me at once, Theodore.”

Ted dramatically splayed his right hand over his heart in mock offense. “‘Your’ cat? I found this precious feline next to some shrubbery and I had to take her in.”

“She was in my house and that ‘shrubbery’ is my spider plant. How did you get inside my house?”

Ted opened a desk drawer next to his left knee and pulled out a fake hollow rock and tossed it at Richard, who caught it easily. Richard frowned at seeing it and opened it up to check for the key. Seeing it in there made him suspicious rather than happy. He made a mental note to improve his home security when he got off work. “Old habits die hard. Right, Dicky?”

Richard’s frown deepened, “Don’t call me that.” He looked at his cat and snapped his fingers to get her attention. “Come here, Princess. Come here, pretty kitty.” The cat just stared at him as Ted continued to pet her, her gentle purrs of contentment were like an unspoken insult. Ted winked. Richard scowled.

Richard reached into his pocket and produced a brand new tube of cat treats and gently shook it. Princess Sugar Pop’s attention went straight to the bottle and she quickly stood up and hopped down from Ted’s lap and meowed the whole way over to Richard, who happily gave her a treat and gently picked her up. Her purrs were much louder as she rubbed her forehead on her owner’s face as he put the treats back in his pocket. Scratching her neck, he noticed the new collar and used his free hand to get a better look at the name tag and glared annoyingly at Ted when he noticed it said “Mashed Potatoe Sunshine.” Ted barked out a laugh and leaned back in his chair as he cackled.

“Seriously? That’s what you called her? Why would you name her after something so disgusting?”

Ted’s laughter abated as he wiped a tear away with his hand. “It’s a much better name than Princess Sugar Pop!”

“I was eight! It’s a perfectly logical name that a child would give to his kitten.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Maybe for a girl,” Ted teased as he played with his tie.

“And change that tie for Christ’s sake! The colors are terrible. They clash and make you look like a bum who doesn’t know how to run a business,” he growled.

“Yes, Mom,” came Ted’s quick reply.

Richard’s watch beeped a few high notes and he sighed in irritation as he saw the time. “Congratulations. This waste of time has made me late to a book signing. I hope you’re happy.”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

Richard gave Ted a final glare as he turned on his heel and left the office, shutting the door behind him. Ted sat in silence for a few moments, wondering if he played his cards wrong when suddenly the door opened up slightly as Richard poked his head back into the room. “By the way, it was good to see you, Ted.” With that, Richard closed the door and headed toward his building, leaving Ted alone in his office, smiling to himself over the start of a beautiful partnership.

#writing #OC #homor #funny #prompt #story #prologue

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