#but i feel like over time that would fade into visual noise too like oh these are just my. oven gloves or whatever. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

innsyn · 10 months

Text

Feedback time!

@advashaviv has asked for feedback on the first page of her book.

Time to put my editors hat on 🙂

I like to approach feedback with three stages:

First impressions - read each paragraph, then stop and note my top-of-head thoughts. After I’ve read a piece once I can never get those ‘fresh-eyes’ back.

Reflections - having read the piece, step back: what do I understand of its goals, methods, strengths/weaknesses, etc. I try to focus on the specifics of the piece, rather than generic writing advice.

Suggestions - what would I recommend as the next steps for developing the piece? I try to be specific and give examples.

What are we looking at here?

6 paragraphs / 336 words

First Impressions

Would you look at this sweet little baby-thought! Banjo couldn’t help but coo at it, amidst the usual chaos of Emma’s mind. Fluctuating piles of books, rolling heaps of pets’ hairs, older thoughts ravaging throughout the blue space—everything faded around the tiny sweet thing. Well, almost everything. Except for the chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate, mostly filled with smooth praline cream. Banjo licked his lips, then turned back to smile at the baby-thought.

Okay - we’re embodying and personifying thoughts. Imagery is U-rated. Obvious namecheck is the movie, Inside Out, but also Soul - strong Pixar vibe either way.

The thought eyed him curiously, and Banjo stuck out his tongue in greeting, face crumpled in ridiculous adoration. Sure, he’d seen thousands of new thoughts before, but each was different and charming all over again. This one was a quivering green pompom with thin dark hairs and a black witch’s hat. Had something to do with evening. Banjo waved his wings at it, squirmed his eyebrows, twisted his beak in weird directions. The thought fixed its gaze right above Banjo’s beak.

Sentiment is cute, but I have a visual imagination and this interaction is hard to picture properly because I don’t know what Banjo looks like. It’s like a formless Mr Potato Head waiting for details. Now it has wings.. but they’re fuzzy because I don’t know if they’re fairy wings, angel wings, dragon wings, etc. Oh wait, it has a beak too? Is it just a bird?

“Oh, you like my mustache, do you?” Banjo wiggled his mustache and turned his head sideways, calling for Pippannjo to come see Emma’s little thought. No reply. Pipp must have been too far to hear him, maybe on a different planet in the space. Or maybe she just pretended not to hear, thinking he meant to bring up his plan again. For which she showed zero support. ‘Ridiculous,’ she’d called it. Well. He must be doing something right, then.

We tangent from our scene - B and the baby-thought - to call for a third character, P. Then follow that tangent to wonder where P is. Then tangent again to bring up a previous conversation between B & P, then follow that second tangent to reflect on B’s opinion of P’s opinion. It’s succinctly done - but this is scope widening information (indicating to the reader that there’s more going on than the scene we’re seeing) rather than actions, which reveal character. For an opening page I’d recommend focusing narrower - spend longer on the actual scene, building a stronger picture of the characters and developing some reader attachment to them, before widening.

“Am I right?” Banjo bent toward the baby-thought. Yes, it certainly had to do with evening, and a cozy one at that. Emma must be having some ideas for this evening. Or for another evening; but no, it felt like she was thinking about the coming hours.

Feels like a missed opportunity. The action beat in the scene is “B examining the b-t and deducing what kind of thought it is”. But all we get are the conclusions of that action - information. We aren’t shown the action itself - what could Banjo see/feel when examining the thought, and how did he/it know that meant it was a thought about evening plans?

The thought cooed what sounded like a question, and Banjo lost all control of the adoring noises spewing from his mouth. He tried to read the full thought, but being too immature, it formed no definite words.

Does the baby-thought have a mouth? It was described as a pom-pom with hair and hat, so I wasn’t sure whether to put a face on it too. I guessed at ‘no’. But now it’s cooing, I’m having to revise my picture. Backtracking to revise my picture interrupts my engagement. Not sold on ‘lost all control of the adoring noises spewing from his mouth’. Implies that the only thing stopping them from spewing previously was his self-control, didn’t fit the vibe so far - and spewing specifically is distracting.

Then it matured.

High above his shaking head the thought expanded, bared huge teeth and growled at him.

Sequencing feels a bit off here - reads as high above his head, the thought [then] expanded? Whereas I’d presume the actions are - the thought [rapidly] expanded, [until it’s face was] high above B’s shaking head.

/— End of Piece

Reflections

Let’s start with what I liked best - the premise! I am a big fan of stories that happen within characters’ minds (as long as they don’t end with “it was all just a dream”). I’ve already namechecked Inside Out as the closest fit, but Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is my all-time favorite movie and my own WIP is about an angel trapped inside a dead-woman’s memories. Point being, you’re off to a strong start with the premise!

At this stage, the actual mechanics of what’s going on are still unclear. That’s okay, because this is only the first page, but what do we know? We’re inside the head of someone called Emma, who we assume is a regular human. Within that headspace, thoughts are ‘born’. They start off as pre-vocal baby-thoughts, which are ‘small’ and cute and then mature into fully-grown thoughts, which can be ‘giant’ and scary. This idea of personifying individual thoughts feels like it has plenty of scope to explore.

There are other things in this headspace besides thoughts - books, pet hair and chocolate exist as objects, but it’s not clear what they represent in conceptual terms. Are they fragments of memories or desires? Similarly space seems fairly fluid - we’ve got these things kind of drifting around, like outer space - except it’s blue instead of black. It’s big enough that there are planets, but we don’t yet have any sense of scale, or what’s meant by that term (these could be one-person planets like The Little Prince).

Then there are entities - Banjo and Pip - who seem to be a separate class from thought-creatures. We don’t know yet if they’re personifications of some aspect of Emma’s interior space (such as emotions, desires or imaginary friends) or something external that has got into her head.

Banjo is our POV character - and I’d say the psychic-distance between narrator and Banjo is pretty close. We’re filtering things through how Banjo sees them, and plucking lines direct from Banjo’s head. This, for me, is causing a problem. Banjo is familiar with the scene they’re within - they seem to take most of it for granted - so through their eyes we only see the parts that are new and holding their attention. Whereas for the reader, this is all new, and we kind of want Banjo to look around and see it afresh, to help ease us in - like a more distanced narrator.

Final reflection is that the actual prose is sound - reads very smoothly and only minimal thoughts on word-choice or sentence/paragraph construction.

Suggestions

We’re only looking at a very small sample, so I’ll keep this brief:

More distance between Banjo and the narrator. For reasons outlined above. Paint the whole picture, not just the bits the POV character cares about.

Focus on actions in-scene, not information inferred from actions. Often short-handed as ‘show, don’t tell’. I’m by no means a ‘show vs tell’ absolutist - there are plenty of times where it’s appropriate to tell - but this is an abstracted setting, and the reader doesn’t know the rules of how things work here yet, so staying tight on action would be effective to build familiarity.

Illustrative examples:

Would you look at that sweet little baby-thought!

Emma’s mind was its usual chaos; fluctuating piles of books, rolling heaps of pet hair and a thousand other fragments of mental detritus—but everything faded away when Banjo gazed at the tiny sweet thing. Well, almost everything. Except for the chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate balls, the type filled with smooth praline cream, were slowly gathering around his feet. Distracted, Banjo licked his lips, then turned back to smile again at the baby-thought.

The thought eyed Banjo curiously and who could blame it? He was a curious looking thing: a blue penguin in flower-power dungarees with an explosive mop of magenta dreadlocks. Banjo stuck out his tongue, face crumpled with adoration. Sure, he’d seen thousands of new thoughts before, but each was different and charming all over again. This one was a quivering green pompom with features like a sleepy puppy, scraggly dark hair and a witch’s hat. Banjo wondered what Emma was thinking about to create this little cutie-pie. The air close around it tasted of spinning clocks, twinkling stars, and heavy limbs. Something to do with evening time. Determined to get a reaction, Banjo waved his stubby flippers at it, squirmed his eyebrows and twisted his beak in weird directions. The baby-thought locked its gaze just above Banjo’s beak.

“Oh, you like my mustache, do you?” Banjo wiggled his mauve handlebar mustache, striking poses to show it off proudly. He called for Pippannjo to come see Emma’s latest thought. No reply. Must have skedaddled somewhere, maybe exploring a whole different planet in the headspace. Or maybe she was just out of eyeline and ignoring him again.

“Am I right?” Banjo bent toward the baby-thought, beak wide to sample the vibes that were emanating from the hat. Yes, it certainly had something to do with evening time, and a cozy one at that. He reckoned Emma was forming an idea for this tonight. He hoped this one worked out better than her last few.

The baby-thought babbled noises that sounded like a question. Banjo found himself babbling back with enthusiasm. Stroking the pompom with his beak, he tried to read the full thought, but being too immature, it formed no definite words.

Then, with an explosion of decisiveness and clarity, it matured.

The thought expanded rapidly; within a handful of heartbeats it was glaring down from high above Banjo’s head. It bared huge canine teeth and growled at him.

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #creative writing #fantasy writing

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quindolyn · 3 years

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heyyyyy, can you do harry imagine where when they fight with the death eaters fem reader rescues sirius from bellatrix because she know he is the only relative harry has and gets hurt, so in the hospital harry visits her and thanks her and she tells him that she loves her? like lots of fluff😻

To Be Lovable || Harry Potter

Word Count: 4069

A/N: Hey love, I hope you enjoy this! It was a lot of fun to write.

Warnings: mentions of a broken bone, let’s just pretend that Sirius’ name has already been cleared, obviously not canon, I believe that that is it.

Masterlist

Life had fucked Harry Potter over, that was for sure. It basically said “fuck you” and gave him the responsibility of saving muggle and wizardkind alike. Robbed him of a family, of a childhood, of any semblance of the confidence he so desperately needed.

But life always outs. Life will always find a way to straighten itself out, even the scales. Life had given Harry Sirius Black, so it was doing a pretty good job so far. Just as life had fucked Harry Potter, it’d fucked Sirius Black too.

When life gave them each other it slowly started mending its wrong doings with Sirius’ false imprisonment, Harry’s lack of a father figure, their shared lack of affection of any sort. In Harry Sirius had found a friend, a son and in Sirius, Harry had found a father, someone to care.

You had spent the last five years watching Harry suffer trial after trial all while you suffered a trial of your own, the trial of loving him from afar. As much as you adored Harry, and you really did, how could you not? From the blush that painted his cheeks at the slightest compliment, to the way his glasses sat crooked on his nose, to the messy black mop of hair that sat upon his head the boy was completely and utterly loveable. But it was because of the love you harbored for the boy that you refused to confess your feelings to him, he had more than enough on his plate. The Boy Who Lived most definitely had better things to do with his time than deal with the feelings of a hormonal teenager. Perhaps that was life’s way of fucking with you, making you love a boy who didn’t have it within him to love you back.

Life didn’t get to fuck with Harry Potter anymore, he’d done more than his fair share of suffering, of grieving, he’d more than served a punishment he’d never earned. That’s all you could think about as you saw Bellatrix point her wand at Sirius’ form, laughing maniacally as a jet of green light shot from the tip of her wand, aimed directly at Sirius.

Head thrown back in laughter, eyes closed, it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to dodge the curse leaving you with no other option but to full on tackle him. You threw your body at him, aiming to take him down at the knees but failing rather miserably instead wrapping your arms around his chest and instead of knocking him to the ground, making him stumble backward.

Regardless, on the floor, or a few inches to the right, you still managed to knock him out of the curse’s path. Sirius hadn’t realized who was on top of him or that their intentions were good rather than evil, in the heat of the moment, with curses flying to and fro you were flung from his body as he knocked you onto the floor.

As you landed on your side, your arm trapped beneath you, you heard the distinct, sickening snap of what couldn't have been anything other than bone. The sound rang through the din in the room, impossible to miss but yet no one seemed to offer you so much as a glance, anyone except Sirius that was.

“Shit” He swore, bending down to access the damage, gently turning you on to your back so that he could get a better look at your arm, “I’m so sorry (Y/N).”

“It’s fine Sirius,” You slurred, not daring to look at your arm, the pain you were feeling was enough, you were more than fine without visuals to match. Having never broken a bone before you were not ready for the immense pain that festered in your arm, sharp and stabbing it felt like every single nerve in your arm was being bludgeoned over and over again, mercy be damned.

“You’re slurring your words (Y/N),” Sirius scolded, not angry at you but rather at himself, “You’re not okay and it’s not fine. Now did you hit your head too?”

You thought for a moment, had you hit your head?

Yes, you remembered the thump of your skull against the hard stone of the room hidden deep within the Department of Mysteries, and the more you thought about it, the more clearly you could feel that the dull thrum of pain was still present where the initial impact had occurred.

“Y-yeah,” You stuttered out, your vision blurring as the man kneeling above you started to fade, “I think so, it hurts.” Black spots began to dance through your vision, the cacophony of noise in the room became a low buzz as the sound of your blood rushing through your veins overwhelmed you. It became the only thing you could hear.

You heard the faint noise of Sirius letting out a slew of curses, not all of which seemed to be in English as his hands moved to your scalp, gently pressing down until a sharp pain coursed through you.

“Fuck,” Someone, swore, him or you, you weren’t sure. It was very possible it had been either of you as Sirius pulled his hand away from your head and back into your visage. His middle three fingers were soaked in blood, your blood. Crimson and dripping from his digits the metallic scent flooded your nostrils making you work not to gag as you found the stench to be truly nauseating.

He spoke again, or at least you thought he did as you could faintly make out the whisper of his voice and the moving of his lips.

Faintly you wondered if you heard the familiar voice of a certain bespectacled boy, frantic as he approached you, and the glimpse of dark, messy hair you caught almost convinced you of such. But as more and more blackness took over your vision it became harder and harder to tell until you were completely swallowed, and your eyes blinked closed into a dark, dreamless sleep.

“She’s not exactly asleep,” Someone was talking.

“Well she sure as hell isn’t awake,” There was someone in the room.

“If you’d let me finish Mr. Weasley-”

“Oh shut up,” This voice was new, deeper than either of the previous ones, its posh accent distinctly different than the other two, “No need to condescend the boy just tell us if (Y/N)’s going to be alright. Harry’s going to want to know when he finishes his business with Dumbledore.”

Harry? Was Harry alright? Stupid question, if precedent was anything to go on, he probably wasn’t.

At the mention of his name you felt a wave of energy surge through you, it was only with that energy you were able to blink your eyes open. They desperately wanted to close as the harsh white light of the room flooded your irises but you refused to let them, instead squinting so that the light entering your vision was limited.

“As I was saying,” The first voice continued, “She’s in a medically induced coma, this isn’t a restful sleep this is because she can’t afford to be conscious right now and when she wakes up she’s going to be in a whole world of pain and having the six of you here isn’t going to help her.”

No one seemed to notice your new state of consciousness as they continued their conversation, voices tense with worry as they batted back and forth in a game of verbal racketball, a question met by an answer which was countered by another question.

You were too out of it to take offense to their neglect as you felt that surge of energy start to slip away from you, like sand through your fingertips. Grasping onto the last whispers of it before it drifted away from you entirely you cleared your throat, the sound minuscule but apparently just loud enough to catch the attention of a certain red headed girl.

“(Y/N),” This voice was unmistakable Ginny. You turned your head to face the source of her voice, met by the blurry outline of unmistakable Weasley red, they really should just patent it at this point, hair surrounding a pale face. “(Y/N) you’re awake!” She lunged towards you gripping your arm in her hand, albeit a little painfully, but all pain, and sound, and sight seemed fuzzy, like remembering a dream from the night prior.

At Ginny’s words, all heads in the room snapped to your form where you laid in the hospital bed, looking as though you’d seen better days. Which granted, you had.

It took a second for them all to register the meaning behind what Ginny had announced, but as soon as they did they went into a flurry, a healer rushing to take your vitals, moving her wand up and down your body, muttering incantations under her breath. Molly was at your side, gazing at you with brown eyes swimming with worry as she ran a hand down the side of your face which was still lolled to the side. Two identical boys stood at the foot of your bed while two girls, the previously spoken of redhead and her curly haired friend stood back, giving the Healers space to move about.

Sirius stood over Molly’s shoulder, his eyes drowning in guilt as he failed to return your gaze.

“Where am I?” Godric you sounded awful, and it felt like there was gravel in your throat, irritating you even as you merely swallowed.

“St. Mungo’s darling,” Molly answered promptly, trying and failing to suppress a sniffle, “You were hurt at the Department of Mysteries.”

You remembered, oh you undoubtedly remembered. The ache in your arm and head was more than enough to remind you of what had occurred, it was reinforced by the dark haired man looming in the corner refusing to meet your eyes.

After a good deal of fussing both by the Healers and Molly people finally started to stream out of your room, first Ginny and Hermione, followed by the twins and finally the Healers and Molly.

That left just you and Sirius, who still refused to meet your eyes, in the small room which smelt of dittany and blood.

It was silent for a minute, then two, before you simply couldn’t take it anymore, if he wasn’t going to say something you would, “S’not your fault Sirius,” Your voice was still rather hoarse but it had improved significantly after downing the three cups of water than had been placed in front of you.

“You were just trying to save me, you did save me and now you’re hurt.” His head which had previously been hung raised to finally meet your eyes, the shame he carried in his eyes was palpable, remorse etched into his face. A face which reflected every year he’d lived on this planet and then some.

“M’gonna be fine Sirius, you didn’t know it was me I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” You shook your head lightly to refocus your eyes but that just amplified the pain already pounding in your skull.

Reluctantly Sirius trudged towards you before pulling a chair up to your bed and eventually resting himself in it, not looking at your face but rather at the foot of the bed. “Why’d you do it (Y/N)? Why’d you go to all that trouble to save an old man like me?” There was none of his usual humor in his voice, only a sorrowful curiosity.

“You’re all he has left Sirius,” This drew his attention, craning his neck to look at you, his eyes, accompanied by his continued silence urged you on, “You can’t die on him because then he’ll have no one.”

For the first time since you’d tackled him in the Department on Mysteries however long ago, Sirius Black smiled. Unlike his usual smirks or grins, the one that graced his face was gentle, and perhaps a bit hopeful as well.

“Not so sure about that love,” He let out a laugh so light it was barely a laugh, more like a puff of air, “He’d still have you, wouldn’t he?”

You willed yourself not to give away your true feelings for Harry to his godfather of all people, but the nervous grin that adorned your face was a dead give away to his already good guess.

“He cares about you (Y/N),” Sirius was merciful, sparing you from verbalizing the feelings that the both of you now acknowledged existed, “We had to drag him away from you at the Department of Mysteries.”

“That was Harry?” You perked up, “I didn’t just imagine him?”

“Nope,” He replied, popping his p, “He almost punched Moony when tried to drag him away from you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that you simply didn’t.

“He had to meet with Dumbledore to discuss something, that’s why he wasn’t here when you woke up,” Sirius explained.

“Oh, its okay, I’m sure he has much better things to do than come visit-”

You were cut off mid sentence by the sound of feet thumping down the hallway outside your room. Both you and Sirius turned your heads to watch someone fly by the cracked door of the room, his voice booming as he called out for you, then Ron, then Hermione.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to be a little quieter,” The stern but kind voice drifted into the room from the hallway.

“Where is she?” Yup, that has Harry. The sound of his voice was ingrained in your head and had been for countless years now.

You and Sirius stayed silent, still watching the door, listening to the tense conversation taking place between Harry and the St. Mungo’s staff member before you heard Hermione’s voice cut in, trying to calm the two men down.

“Well it sounds like he’s going to be in here soon,” Sirius said, standing up from his chair, gazing down at you.

“It does,” You agreed.

“I will never be able to thank you enough (Y/N), not only for saving my life today but for being such a good friend to Harry, giving him the love that he deserves.” Tears brimmed at the raven haired man’s eyes as he laid his palm atop your hand.

“Of course Sirius,” Your voice cracked mid sentence as you too were gulping down tears.

Leaning down Sirius pressed a fatherly kiss to the crown of your head just as Harry burst through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” The older chuckled, pulling back to his full height as Harry bounded towards you, completely ignoring the presence of his godfather.

“(Y/N)!” His long legs got him to you in no time at all, when he reached you his eyes snagged on your broken arm before meeting your own.

Sirius sent you a silent wink as he slipped from the room, you hadn’t noticed him even make his way towards the door. He made sure to shut the door tightly behind him so that you and Harry would be granted some privacy.

“Hi Harry,” You let out a watery chuckle as you took in his appearance, he looked like he’d gotten caught in a wind tunnel with his hair all messy, and the fabric of his tight fitting t-shirt clinging to his chest.

“Don’t laugh,” He frowned down at you as he settled himself next to you on the bed, “You might hurt your lung or something.”

You smiled at his clueless, over protective behavior, “S’not my lungs that are hurt H, just my arm and my head.”

“There’s nothing just about it,” He countered, “You’d be fine without your arm but you need your head (Y/N/N), can’t go walking around without it.”

You opened your mouth to say something but you didn’t get the chance before he started talking again, pushing himself off up the flimsy mattress to pace next to your bed, “What the hell were you thinking jumping on Sirius like that?”

You rolled your eyes at his outburst, “Bellatrix had cast the Killing Curse at him, Harry, he was going to die if I didn’t do something!” Your voice raised against your will as you got defensive, you may have loved Harry but that didn’t stop you from getting aggravated with him when he was being an idiot. Take now for example.

“You could’ve died (Y/N)! Don’t you understand that? You could’ve died and I-”

“But I didn’t Harry! I didn’t die and I’m fine now.”

“The hell you are! You’re lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo’s with a broken arm and a concussion, if that's your definition of fine then I’d hate to see what not fine is!”

“I’m a big girl Potter, I can take care of myself,” You argued, pushing yourself up on the bed so that you were sitting upright, independent of your pillows. How was he being so daft? You’d saved the closest person he had to real family and now here he was, completely railing on you.

He was so caught up in his own head, continuing to pace up and down the length of the room that he didn’t seem to notice when you started swaying, no doubt because you had lifted yourself up too quickly and your head should’ve been resting on your pillow.

“You may be a big girl (Y/N), but clearly you shouldn’t be left to your own devices because what would possess someone to do something so idiotic?”

You tried to swallow the anger you felt bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to explode in an eruption of words you weren’t quite ready to say out loud. But as he went on and on you found it harder and harder to swallow your feelings until they inevitably bubbled over.

“You idiot,” You cut him off, too fed up with him to listen to what he had to say, “I wasn’t going to let Sirius die because he’s the only family you have Harry! You love him and it would kill me to see him ripped from you, just like so many other good things have been ripped from you, because…”

You went silent, all of a sudden your voice seemed very loud in the sterile room and you realized it’s because he finally shut up.

“Because why?” He asked turning so that he was facing you, “Because why?”

“Because I-” You felt a rush of heat flooded your face and quickly averted your gaze from the boy, focusing instead on the clock hung on the wall opposite your bed.

You were quiet for a moment, hoping he would show you mercy and continue on with his ranting but he didn’t. Harry never did stand down from a fight, especially not one that he could win.

Coming to terms with the fact that the only way this was ending was with a confession from you, you gulped. And with your saliva you swallowed your pride, turning back to face the boy who still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Because I love you, okay?” You admitted to him, letting your vision glaze over so you wouldn’t have to see the eventual look of guilt wash over his features before he gently turned you down, apologizing, calling you beautiful, telling you how you deserved someone better. Even though there was no one better than him.

You thought he looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at you, unblinking.

Eventually, after what could’ve been a couple of seconds or could’ve been a couple of hours, he spoke, “Y-you love me?” He sounded incredulous like he didn’t really believe you.

And that’s when it hit you, he didn’t really believe you.

As a wave of indescribable sorrow washed over you, at the notion that the beautiful boy in front of you really had no clue just how beautiful he was, you maneuvered yourself so that you could stand up, throwing one leg over the edge of the bed, and then the other.

Pushing yourself up into an upright position you were immediately swaying, ready to collapse onto the floor, and Harry must’ve observed that as he came back to his senses as he looped his arms under yours, pulling you into his toned chest, hard from countless hours of Quidditch practice.

“What do you think you’re doing (Y/N/N)?” His voice was softer now, meant for only you to hear.

“Was gonna show you how much I love you,” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt as you abandoned all of your inhibitions, you needed to tell him how you felt, “You clearly don’t believe me when I tell you and that’s ridiculous Haz because you’re lovely and wonderful and you light up my day every time I see you. I can’t imagine my life without you,” You paused your ramble, not noticing the brilliant shade of vermillion his face had turned.

“No, I can imagine it without you Harry and it’s horrible, it’s not a life worth living.”

“Don’t say that (Y/N),” He cut you off, a frown gracing his enviably red lips.

“Would you let me finish Potter?” You sniped playfully, “I love you, Harry, I’ve loved you since we were first years and it kills me that you don’t see how lovable you are. Because you are lovable Harry,” You pulled back a bit to rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him, “You are completely lovable, and that’s why I put myself in harm’s way today, because if it meant saving someone you love, then it is worth it. It will always be worth it.”

You watched as tears spilled down his cheeks, but you could tell by the smile pulling at his wobbling lips that they were happy tears, “Y-you love me?”

How your heart could break at three simple words baffled you but it did, “I love you, Harry, I have loved you and I will always love you.”

A smile overtaking his entire face split it in half, a toothy grin you’d like to see on him more often, “I-”

“You don’t have to say it back H, the fact you’re not turning me down right now is more than enough. You don’t have to say it back, we can take it slow,” You cut him off, not wanting to rush him.

“I want to though, I want to say it back.” He insisted, sounding like an eager puppy.

“Really?” You couldn’t suppress the optimistic lilt to your voice.

He nodded surely, still grinning down at you. “I love you (Y/N).”

You had to stop yourself from crying, or screaming, or jumping in the air, or some combination of all three, but that’s all you wanted to do. You wanted to scream and jump and cry but you preferred being in Harry’s arms much more.

“May I kiss you?” Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper you could barely hear.

“Yes please,” You giggled, standing up on your tippy toes as he leaned down to capture your lips in his.

You poured all the passion of the past five years into that kiss, all of the stolen glances at him, all of the nights spent sobbing, thinking that he could never love you back. All of the sacrifices, all of the hugs, and the smiles you shared. They were all poured into the kiss and they all meant so much more now because being part of something so beautiful could only make those memories better.

Harry wrapped his arms around your back, pressing your body to his while being careful to mind your hurt arm. You dug the fingers on the hand of your healthy arm in his thick hair, using it as an anchor to pull yourself closer to him.

You pulled away first, taking big gulps of air in an attempt to refill your empty lungs.

“You love me,” Harry stated simply, staring down at you adoringly.

“I love you,” You agreed with a small nod of your head.

“I can’t believe you actually love me.” He smiled again, this grin even goofier than the last, making his emerald eyes shine.

You smiled at the look of childlike happiness that adorned his face, “And I can’t believe it took me this long to tell you.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst

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mellow-em · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 3

[special dts: @bluewingedangel @siennamariia <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

I wanted to say something.

I knew based on the long expressions plastered across their faces, that they were waiting impatiently for me to say something too.

But I physically couldn’t.

A knot cemented itself at the back of my throat, suffocating me as I tried to swallow. I could feel my mouth suffer through a drought as I did so.

All I could do was look at the three of them, internally wallowing in embarrassment with a load of questions making my head spin.

How could Nate and Elena keep something like that from me? What were they thinking? No. What was I thinking?

Suddenly, the voices of people scattered amongst the yard became too loud. Though, the stares directed towards me were louder.

“Y/n can you say something?”

Without even thinking, I felt my body turn away from them, and I carried myself away.

“Y/n?” I could hear Elena calling after me.

“I’ll just be a minute” I finally croaked back to her, relieved that I could finally get a word out.

I rushed past the deck towards the side of the house.

I knew in the back of my mind that I was being ridiculous. It wasn’t something to run away from; knowing they probably felt just as awkward telling me.

But I had to get away from Sam.

I couldn’t bear standing there while his smug grin could be seen in the corner of my eye.

It was driving me crazy.

Why does he insist on making this hard on me?

I continued to let my feet travel, not even worried about where I would end up. It felt good to step away from the chaos that my parents organized, for a while anyway.

But I soon found myself at the dead end of the street, in front of the wooded patches that lined the edges of the pavement; sectioning off the neighborhood from the forest.

Without any hesitation, I stepped past the barricading trees, and onto the trail that led to a place of sanctuary.

A small body of water sat on the indented ground, with blooming ferns and bushes fencing it. Farther away from the pond, large rocks collected together, forming makeshift seats to take in the atmosphere.

It looked like it belonged in a cheesy disney movie, or a landscape renaissance painting.

I found this place with Nate when I was little, and since then I would escape here when things become too much to handle.

I sat myself down on one of the largest slabs of rock, almost seeing the memories with Nate passing around me in the form of faded visuals; they were almost ghost-like.

I took myself into these moments one by one; succumbing to the laughter, the playfulness, the smiles, the thrill.

Even though I love my parents more than anything, the bundles of memories Nate and I shared, showed me a glimpse of adventure that my parents couldn’t give me.

The overwhelming feeling of contentment pushed a smile onto my face.

But in an instant, it all faded.

Sam.

That one moment with him feasted on my conscious mind like a ravenous vulture. It made my stomach churn in the worst possible way.

I sunk my head into my hands, huffing in frustration.

That is, until I heard a few raucous cracks of leaves and sticks not too far from me.

I fix my posture while whipping my head towards the direction of the noise, only to be met with guilty eyes.

Nathan stood there, leaning his upper body on the stiff trunk of a tree.

Perfect timing, Nate..

My lips flatlined as I scratched at the corner of my forehead, “Hey.”

He steps closer, leisurely but surely.

“Hey,” he gestures to the vacant space next to me, “can I?”

“Yeah.”

Placing both of his hands on his thighs, he plops down next to me, slightly grunting. We sat there in silence; but it wasn’t peaceful, it was impatient.

The both of us were longing to say something to one another, but neither of us preferred confrontation in the slightest. So we sat there, staring at the grove.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here.”

I look over to him, noticing the tinge of nostalgia sketched upon his features.

“uh yeah.. yeah it really has,” I release a breath, reverting my eyes back to the pond, “almost 5 years.”

It was two days before I left for college. Screaming echoed throughout the house, and reverberated through my head, overwhelming my senses.

My parents chalked it up to being stressed over ‘my big move,’ which I can believe. But the words said that day pushed its way through me. I finally had enough of the nonsense and hollered back at them.

Big mistake. ‘you’re an absolute failure’ They said, ‘you’re never gonna go far.’

Long story short, I ran out of the house, and into the forest. I sat on this same rock, with tears planting glistening streams down my face.

Nate apparently heard the commotion, which wasn’t too surprising, and he made his way to me.

He didn’t even say a word before wrapping his arms around me; embracing me with a comforting warmth that slowly eased me back to normal.

‘Sic Parvis Magna,’ He said.

I was more than confused with those few words, until he began to speak once more.

‘Greatness from small beginnings. Now this isn’t exactly small, you know, with you leaving me here to go to college and all. But it is a new beginning- your new beginning. Don’t let anyone stop you from moving forward.’

That was the last day I saw this beautiful spot of ours, and the last time I really had a solid conversation with Nate; it made the final memory bittersweet at best.

“It really hasn’t changed a bit though.”

“Probably because change is dining elsewhere,”I tried to whisper under my breath, but unfortunately, he heard me loud and clear.

I look up at him in the corner of my eye, noticing his presence fall into a sea of guilt again.

He runs his hand through his surprisingly neatened hair, letting out a sigh that releases all of his proper posture.

“Look, y/n, I wanted to tell you. I really did. But it’s just-”

“Nate all I gotta ask is why? Why would you keep something that major from me?”

I had my body fully turned to face him now, while he still remained there; slouched with his head bowed to his fidgety hands.

I could tell he was stalling, swallowing his responses with force.

“Nate. Just tell me. Please.”

His eyes closed as he exhaled, “It’s a very long story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Not exactly.” Roars of laughter within the distance cause both of us to look at the trail leading out of the woods, “we’ve still got a party going on, which happens to be for you, if I may add-”

“Seriously Nate, you think I care?” I was growing fretful, mentally pleading for him to just give up on excuses.

His hands raised in defense, “Fine, fine, okay..”

———

It didn’t even occur to us how long we’d been out here until the streams of sunlight disappeared from the ruptures in between the trees. The day was just replaced with the beginning of nightfall.

“So you’re telling me that Sam, your brother...who was presumed dead for 15 years, dragged you out across the globe to find Henry Avery’s treasure in 3 months because a drug lord was gonna kill him if you didn’t?”

Nate stifled a low chuckle, nodding along.

“So I take it you found it and gave the son of a bitch his cut? Well, since he’s alive and all-”

“Hey, language missy.” He attempted a scolding tone, but I could see through his thin facade.

I rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully,“Haha very funny. Now answer the question mister.”

“Well, it turns out the son of a bitch was Sam. He uh- lied about the whole thing.”

My eyes widened, “Wait what? So the drug lord- the sole purpose of the treasure hunt..”

“Yep it was all bullshit.”

I averted my wide-eyed gaze from him to the pond that was now lit with the blaring lights of fireflies,“Wow. I’m surprised no one got the chance to kick him in the face.. or balls.”

“Yeah Rafe- he pretty much took care of that one..”

The both of us laughed, causing a few birds to flutter away from the branches closest to us.

I missed this.

“Figured I’d find you two here.”

As our fit died down, we glanced over to a beaming Elena emerging from the trail with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I told your parents that you were comin’ over with us. I assumed you wanted some space from all the chaos.”

I showed my relief in the form of a warm simper, up until the realization punched me in the face.

Sam is gonna be there.

My body tensed, becoming a stiff statue in place. The lack of saliva in my mouth was back, and I felt my breath hitch silently.

I guessed the two of them noticed my change in demeanor.

“Are you okay y/n? You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Elena’s tone was gentle, as her grin faltered slightly.

“No no it’s fine it’s just- it’s nothing don’t worry,”I abruptly stood up, scratching at my forehead again, “lets go, back.”

“You sure?,” I felt Nate’s arm fall over my shoulders, giving me a faint squeeze as the three of us trudged down the path.

I needed to take my mind off of Sam, hopefully I can avoid him.

“Yeah..” my voice trailed off, “as long as I get to play a certain game that I happened to have the highest score of.” walking confidently with my head held high, I could still see Nate rolling his eyes.

“Actually, Elena has since claimed that title for herself.” Nate said frankly.

A dramatic gasp escapes my lips,“Elena, are you kidding me!”

“Hey, don’t get mad at the pregnant lady here,” she looks back at Nate and I as we continue to walk down the trail, “how about this: you two compete to try and beat my high score.”

Nate looks down at me with the same contemplative look I give him.

“And what’s the catch, hun?” Nate asks.

“Loser gets pushed or thrown into the pool.”

Well well well, Elena’s finally getting in on our shenanigans.

I smirked, “This is gonna be light work.”

“Oh really now? I just know you’re secretly afraid that I’m gonna win.”

“Sure, Nate. I’m not gonna lose, you’re all bark and no bite.”

It was his turn to let out a theatrical breath,“How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”

While Nate and I went on with our child like banter, Elena laughed hysterically at our foolishness,“You two are absolutely ridiculous.”

Nate glances back at me, only this time his fist patiently waited in front of me for a fist bump, “you ready to get destroyed?”

I scoff, hitting my fist on his, “You’re on.”

#sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake #uncharted #uncharted 4 #samuel drake #nathan drake #naughty dog #elena fisher #sam drake fanfiction

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beskarberry · 3 years

Text

Bargaining with Beskar (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

Rating : Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: canon-typical violence (bounty capture) smut: captured bounty sex, rough play (soft choke), fingering, pent up sex.

Summary: You’re an ex bounty hunter just trying to escape the guilds radar long enough to spend a hefty reward, but a another bounty hunter has other plans for you. Can you convince him to let you go with only your charm, or will you find yourself in carbonite?

Authors note: I wrote this in a fury in the middle of the night so it’s messy and very very self indulgent. It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything so if I need to tag something tell me!

Edit: This fic started on another blog of mine but I moved it here to keep it consistent for when I add more chapters.

Next->

You'd had a good run.

It was a hard opportunity to pass up, the high profile bounty you had been charged to bring in had been able to contact their family shortly before you had captured them and the family offered to pay you handsomely for their return, easily triple what the guild was going to pay for this bail jumper. You’d taken the deal, but that meant you would be returning to the guild empty handed. Maybe if you laid low for a while they'd forget.

Of course that was a stupid thought, within weeks you had noticed rookie hunters on your tail. Word had gotten out that the bounty was walking free and a sloppy bounty hunter was a liability to the guild. After evading all of the green-horns for a time the more experienced hunters began tracking you, and your only choice with them was kill or be killed. They should have known you wouldn't go down quietly.

Months passed before you saw another hunter, hoping against hope that they had given up. It wasn't until you had gotten somewhat comfortable on Tatooine that the last one came.

You were far outside of Mos Eisly, the sandy city was barely a smudge on the horizon from where you were laying low doing repair work on a moisture extractor when he arrived. The machines engine was so loud in your ear you never heard him coming up over the dune, though through the scope of the pulse riffle he carried you wouldn't have heard him anyway. You cranked a ratchet against a stubborn bolt,

-crank.... crank.... c-CRZZT-!

Electricity coursed through you, your first thought was that somehow you had made a connection with a loose wire and shocked yourself, but it was soon obvious that whatever had electrified you was strong enough to paralyze you, causing you to drop down onto the ground. Your fingers were still twitching when you heard bootsteps coming over the sand, but you were unable to stand, instead you worked to shake the electricity running through you.

"Th-thi-think I hit a whi-wh-wire there, I- I- I- I'll get it fi- fixed." you stuttered through clenched teeth, thinking it was the moisture farmer that had hired you coming to see if you were ok. The pulse was wearing off quickly, and you were able to jerk your head enough to make visual contact with the boot of the man approaching you, but these were not the boots of a farmer, they were the boots of a bounty hunter.

"Oh fuck" you tried to scramble to your feet, but you were still jarred from the pulse bolt that had hit you. The man above you wasn't going to wait for you to get your footing, and kicked you over onto your back with one bandoliered boot, then kneeled into your gut with the other, knocking the wind out of you. Still twitching with electricity he snapped a pair of binders on your wrist before hauling you to your feet. You struggled in his grasp, a combination of convulsion and fear made you squirm like a womp rat in a trap, but his grasp was too strong. Suddenly there was cold metal pressed against your side, the barrel of a blaster digging into your ribs.

"Move it." A man of little words but quick and to the point, the blaster barrel forced harder into your side to accentuate his point. He ripped your supply bag off of your shoulders and stuffed a leather clad hand into the belt of your canvas pants to fish out your hidden blaster. Rude. He shoved you toward the barren wasteland of the dune sea, unable to argue with the barrel digging into your ribs you both set off in a brisk pace across sands.

"Whose p- paying you?" You sputtered, still feeling the after effects of the pulse bolt. "I can pay you m- more. I made three ti- times the bounty the guild would pay and I would g- gladly split it with you." Bargaining was your only option at the moment, arms and legs like jelly and unable to put up a good fight. The hunter said nothing, continuing to half march half drag you over the sands. "I bet half is still more than double what they're paying you now, so whad’dya say? Wanna go splitsies?" Still nothing. You huffed, dragging your legs in the sand as best you could to slow him down, but a quick jab with the blaster barrel had you singing a different tune.

The pair of you marched on for a couple hours through the dunes towards a rocky outcropping, you continued making offers of credits and services but never once did he respond, choosing instead to shank you with the blaster or shove a hand into your back to remind you of your current position as his prisoner, without letting you get so much as a peek at your captor. Before long you both had made it to the rocks, and hidden behind them was the saddest looking star ship you had ever seen. It was pre-Imperial you were sure, standing dusty and dented in the fading double sunset. The fact that it had survived atmospheric reentry was a surprise in itself. Like hell you were getting on that thing. The bounty hunter shoved you forward towards the ugly ship, letting go of you just long enough to press a couple buttons on his vambrace to open the entry ramp. It was now or never.

Tired and dehydrated as you were from your trek across the dunes you knew this might be your only chance. You tucked in your bound wrists and made a run for it, kicking up sand in your escape. You were fast but he was faster.

-fwip!- SNAP! Something had caught your leg, yanking your feet out from under you and forcing you to do a faceplant in the rocky sand with a thud. You whipped around to find that he had shot you with some kind of grapple, hauling you back towards him by your ankle you were finally able to see who had caught you.

Is that the Mandalorian? From Karga’s cantina? Of all the hunters you had seen in your travels, Mandalorians were a breed all their own. The stoic hunters had frequented the ramshackle cantina on Navarro that you had visited a handful of times in your earlier days of hunting. You’d started to recognize one in particular that frequented the guild post often. His beskar helmet was shiny unpainted silver, but the last time you had seen him the rest of his armor was a dingy reddish brown. The thought was fleeting as you struggled to escape being dragged by the grapple but once he had you back in his grasp there was no denying it was the same man. He was covered almost head to toe in bullets and beskar, all the way up to the familiar shiny dome of it that covered his entire head. You were able to get an excellent view of its craftsmanship as he pulled you back up to your feet and marched you backwards into the old ship, the black shimmer of his visor never leaving your face. You stumbled over your own feet, fighting with the last bit of your strength for one last chance at escape.

“Mando! Remember me? From Kargas? On Navarro? Yeah yeah heya buddy! Hey hunter to hunter you don’t actually want to bring me in, I just know how much you ~looove~ talking with that old cantina crook and the, uh, paper work! Yeah paper work is suuuch a headache! I’ll just slip on out of here and we can both avoid a bad time, sound good?” Though you knew who he was you’d never spoken to this man in your life, and he of course wasn’t going to entertain your pleas, but it was the best you had. You were pushed backwards through the ship, past supply crates and what looked like the guts of a protocol droid towards what you could only guess was a carbonite chamber. He tossed your supply pack somewhere into the bowels of the ship without ever taking his gaze off you. Panic found a few last drops of adrenaline to pump through your veins as you neared your impending doom. Your silent captor backed you into the chamber, puffs of fog billowing out from behind you as the machine fired up. You had to get out, thrashing in his grasp and kicking against the walls of the chamber with every last bit of strength you had, but just like the armor he wore, he himself was unbreakable.

The bigger hunter was becoming fed up, frustrated with your squirming and never ending bargaining; he needed you to hold still long enough for him to hit the activation sequence so this hunt would be over. He let go of your bound wrists and pushed a leather clad hand up against your throat.

“~Ahh~!”

The noise that escaped your mouth made you both freeze, you just as shocked as he was. Your cheeks flushed with heat, embarrassed that in your current state of capture such a filthy noise had been coaxed from you. You squeezed your eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over and let the carbonite freeze you into oblivion, but its chill never came. You slowly opened one eye to glance at the armored man, but he looked like he was the one that had been frozen.

“What was that?” His voice was like gravel coming through the modulator of his helmet, and you flushed red again at his question, looking between the corners of his visor where you thought his eyes might be.

“Don’t worry about it, tin man.” you croaked, “Just hurry up and let’s get this over with.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, hoping that the darkness behind your eyelids was enough for you to vanish into. But you felt the hand leave your neck, coasting down to your bound wrists and tugging you out of the carbonite freezer. Unable to really argue with him you followed his pull on shaky legs, looking at the unreadable face for a sign of his intentions. Once you were free of the chamber he pushed you up against the nearby wall and held you in front of him, completely motionless.

You were confused, embarrassed, and now suddenly frustrated. Was he really going to drag this out for stupid questions? He stood like a statue, the visor of his helmet felt like its gaze was trying to bore a hole through your skull. You stared at him, then to his hands, and last down to his blaster before looking back up to his visor. You watched as one leather gloved hand slowly made its way back up to your neck, giving it a firm squeeze like he had done before, but you wouldn’t fall for that trick a second time.

“Do it again.” came a rumbling voice from deep inside the beskar, but this time it was lower, more measured and full of something that made your heart do flip-flops in your chest. A sinful thought came to you, maybe you would be able to escape after all.

“You’re going to have to work for it, no more freebies” a sly smile crept over your face, earning a tilt of the helmet that made you feel like you were being inspected by a large bird. Your hands were still locked together, but you brought them both up anyway to wrap your fingers around the armored wrist that still leaned against your throat. Immediately his other hand went for the blaster and its barrel was trained on you in a heartbeat. “Easy...” you whispered showing both of your raised palms in a sign of peace. He kept the blaster trained on you as you gently grabbed his wrist with both hands, pulling on it to guide it down the front of your shirt. When his hand reached your breast, you pushed his palm into the supple mound, rewarding him with another breathy sigh.

Something like a huff whispered out though his modulator, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the whirring of the ships innards, but you knew what you heard. The blaster in his other hand dipped away from you slowly before finding its spot back in its holster. Once it was safely away his free hand came up to grab at your other breast, earning him another encouraging sigh. Without letting go of the front of your shirt he carefully spun you away from the carbonite freezer and walked you backwards towards one of the supply crates that littered the hull until it bumped up against the back of your knees; prompting you to plop down on it. You leaned back, arching your bound arms over your head to give you some kind of leverage while he toyed with your breasts.

“Y’know they’re even more fun without the shirt.” you chided. The mandalorian took the hint and ghosted down to the hem of the tunic you had worn to blend in with the other farmers. It was thin and yielded easily as he pushed it up over your breasts, the flesh of your nipple puckering in the cool air of the ship. The shiny black of his visor never left your chest, only tilting side to side as he took both of them in. His leather gloves were soft and warm on your skin, gently pinching at your nipple and pulling on them just enough to cause your breast to bounce when he let go. He grabbed at the pillowy flesh, groping and rolling your sensitive buds between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers. All the while you made good on your word, making soft sighs to edge him on. Though you knew this was supposed to be your escape plan, you couldn’t help the way heated pooled in your belly, making you squeeze your thighs together and rock your hips. The armored man noticed the way you were squirming and let his hands wander down from your breasts to the hem of your canvas pants.

“Well? Don’t leave a girl waiting.” You rocked your hips up at his hands, trying to get him to take the hint. His expert hands that had wielded fierce weaponry so well now seemed to falter at what he was supposed to do next. His fingers were slow undoing the button and zipper as if he'd never taking someone else's clothes off before, before pushing them down until they were around your knees. The sudden hit of cool air made you instantly aware of just how hot you had become under his groping. You used your knees and heels to push your pants all the way off, kicking your muckboots off with them and opening yourself up for him to get a good look at you.

His body was stiff, the visor of his helmet staring down at your heat, he was so still you could swear he was holding his breath. Suddenly his gaze made you feel vulnerable, as if he didn’t like your display. You moved to start closing your legs when a strong hand shot out to grab your knee and hold it in place while he continued to gawk at you. He likes what he sees you realized, heat flushing to your face and your cunt. Again you rolled your hips from side to side, trying to entice him. What’s he waiting for?

“Please...” you gave him your best impression of a needy virgin and saw his shoulders immediately go even stiffer, the black visor snapping up to meet your eyes. “Take your gloves off.”

He cocked his helmet at you, and you were starting to get the hang of reading an unreadable face. “Just trust me, we’ll both enjoy it more.” At that he tugged the glove off of one hand and tossed it somewhere behind him in the ship, exposing bronze skin of a, thankfully, human hand. He reached down between your legs at the hot core of your body, slowly moving his fingers down your slit. You sighed and arched into his touch, begging with your body for something more tangible. His other hand came up to grab your thigh and steady you, but the hand tracing your heat was shy and ghostlike, almost like he wasn’t touching you at all. “Please Mando...” you begged again, hoping he would get the damn hint.

He pushed one finger experimentally into your folds, dragging the wetness that had accumulated there over your opening and making you hum for him. He moved from the bottom up until his calloused hand found the sensitive little nub you had been waiting for him to find. The roughness of his skin caused you to convulse and cry out, making him tear his hand away as if he’d been burned.

“It’s alright! Please touch me there.” Who is this guy? What’s he never seen a pussy before? You thought to yourself, surprised that such a big scary man would be so jumpy. You arched your back and was rewarded with his hands back where they belonged. He pushed his thumb up against your aching clit, drawing lazy circles with it while another finger began pushing its way inside you. This time you let out a ragged and dirty moan to let him know he was doing a good job. He pulled his thumb away from your engorged nub to push a second finger up in you, making you whine. He found a spot in you quickly that was starting to make you shake again, but this time he knew not to foolishly let go. Your legs were quaking, head lolling to the side and making those sinful sighs that you could tell he liked. He was getting you close, your muscles squeezing around his rough fingers as he worked you to your climax. When his thumb found your clit again you came undone, your cunt fluttering around his fingers with your orgasm. He rode it out with you, pushing up against the coiled muscle to milk every ounce of pleasure from you that you could give on his hands alone. You could feel your own cum leaking down your thighs and around his hand, now realizing how pent up you actually were. What a mess you would be.

You were nearly gasping but you knew you were far from spent. He pulled his hand from your dripping cunt and you watched him stare at the slick on his hands, sticking and unsticking his fingers just to watch the glimmering trails. Cute, you mused to yourself, he really might not have seen a pussy before.

“Alright, space cowboy, your turn.” You nodded towards the bulge that had made his baggy canvas pants grow tight, and he followed your gaze with what you guessed was surprise. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, hmm?” With one last glance at the prize on his fingers, he took a moment to reach them up underneath the edge of his helmet, greedily getting a taste of you, before straightening up and undoing his own buttons. You were not prepared for the monster that flopped out of his pants, his cock full and engorged all the way to its hot red tip. Thick veins wound their way up its length and you swore you could see them pulse even from your vantage point on the crate. A soft drop of precum was already forming at the tip and you licked your lips involuntarily, feeling a fresh rush of heat pooling between your legs. “I’m all yours.”

The hunter grasped his aching cock and used his thumb to glide the precum up and down it’s length before he angled himself between your legs. You arched your hips to give him the best angle but he wanted to take his time. He dragged the head of his cock up and down the length of your slick opening, gathering the cum he had earned for himself. When he bumped up against your clit you moaned a breathy and sinful sound that made him shiver. He slid back down again and you pushed your hip towards him, forcing his tip to notch and he almost doubled over from the sensation, giving you a ragged groan in response.

“Did that feel good?” you asked, biting your lip with a devious sneer. “It’ll feel even better inside.” His gaze was fixed on where the two of you were connected, his hands like steel on your thighs. Another tilt of your hips was enough to turn the cogwheels of the metal man and he pushed his length into you with a shuddering gasp. Your own breath caught in your throat at the size of him breaking you open. He pulled himself back out achingly slow before thrusting into you again and earning himself another round of pleasured cries. It took him only a couple more thrusts to find his rhythm, bottoming out against your cervix with every thrust. Your head was cloudy and a fearsome heat was building in your belly, threatening to burst every time he pounded into you. You could hear him now, the once silent bounty hunter was panting ragged puffs of air and if it had been any cooler in the ship you swore you would have seen steam coming out of the helmets vents.

He slowed his feverish pounding just long enough to release one of your captured thighs and bring a thumb down to your clit, pushing against it in a way that was rougher than what you would have liked but nevertheless sent your head spiraling and forcing a pitiful mewl to escape your throat. It wasn’t long before another round of lightning crackled through your body and sent another orgasm crashing through you. The force of it made him choke and stuttered his perfect rhythm hard enough that he fell forward onto you. Your hands were still locked together but you wrapped them around his broad armored back as best you could, pulling him close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath coming out of the bottom of the helmet. He groaned and pushed his head into the crook of your neck before finding his filthy cadence again. He was close enough now that you could catch the scent of him, a mix of sweat and metal and gunpowder and something so primal it made your eyes flutter.

“Let me feel that again.” His ragged voice in your ear sent you spinning, and you could only answer with choked cries. The hand he had used to work you into a frenzy before now snaked it’s way up to your throat, giving it the exact gentle squeeze he had earlier that started this whole twisted tango. This time you gave him precisely what he was asking for, your tongue peeking ever so slightly past wet lips in between soft choked gasps. His pace quickened by your edging and his grasp tightened on your neck, drawing an ugly -urk- noise that had you patting his back in protest. To your relief he respected your gesture and let go of your neck entirely. Interesting...what a sweet, thoughtful murder machine he is. He grabbed ahold of the abused crate that held you both up and ground his hips into you, fucking you so hard you swore it would break. It wasn’t long before your overstimulated cunt gave him exactly what he asked for, crying out into the silence of the hull and clamping down around his cock.

That was the last thing he needed to push him over the edge. A few more messy thrusts and a modulated roar accompanied his climax while he pumped you full of cum. He pushed himself as deep as he could go and you felt his cum start to pour out of you, mixing with your own as it trailed down from the intersection of your bodies and onto the cold metal of the ships floor. You were both panting, his weight on you making it almost hard to breathe. With great difficulty you pulled your bound arms over top of him and dropped them back behind your head so he could get up, but he just laid on top of you while his cock slowly softened and released itself from you, sending a fresh wave of cum flooding down your legs.

Carefully he pushed himself up, grunting and groaning the whole way. He stumbled to his feet, resting an arm on one of the crates next to you to steady himself and the other on your quaking knee. You glanced down at him and was bemused to see his glossy black visor staring down at your dripping cunt. His hands made their way back to you, gently pushing at your folds to watch the delicious mess he had made trickle from you. You couldn’t hear much over the blood pounding in your ears, but you could have sworn he said something with fondness in a language you didn’t know.

Releasing you from his grasp he walked up your side, dragging his ungloved hand over your disheveled body, devouring your naked form with his visor like a starving man watches a feast. It was now that you remembered why you had let him fuck you in the first place, but your body was limp and your legs shaky. He ran his hands up your chest and over your exposed breasts, then up your arms, grabbing the magnetic cuffs he had put there. Great. Back to the carbonite chamber for me.

But instead your ears were graced with the metallic click of the unlocking mechanism and the restrictive cuffs clattered to the floor. You sat up immediately, rubbing at the bruises on your wrists and staring at your captor with mix of bliss and confusion.

“You’re letting me go?”

Mando was working to put his clothes back in order, the sound of belts and snaps shuffling into place echoed in the ships hull. “Last I heard you had fallen into a sarlacc pit on Tatooine. Can’t collect a bounty on the dead. Pity too, I’d heard you were such a great hunter.” The man who had been your captor was now leaning against the hull wall, his visor still locked on your mostly naked form. “You can go back to doing repairs on moisture farm equipment, or...” he tilted his helmet towards the back of the ship “You’re welcome to use the fresher.”

You blinked at his uncharacteristic generosity, though you supposed you didn’t actually know anything about him. Shifting off of the crate sent another gooey wave of cum dribbling down your legs and flushed your cheeks red. Maybe the fresher wasn’t a bad idea. The metallic man turned on his heel towards what you could only guess was the cockpit.

“Alright, but no peeking.” Like I could stop him. The thought made you laugh, it was his ship after all. You tossed what was left of your clothing onto the floor and made for the tiny alcove that passed as a bathroom and the even tinier shower; but the water was hot and that was enough. It had been so long since you had felt running water on your skin that you didn’t even hear the engines firing up and the rickety ship begin to take off. There was a bar of military grade soap on the ledge that you decided to help yourself to, it smelled surprisingly nice for something so plain. It smells like he does. You shook your head at the intrusive thought. It was just soap.

When you had finished your wash you stood in the fresher trying to squeegie water from your hair, now noticing the rumbling of the ship under your feet. Well, goodbye Tatooine I guess. The ugly dust ball had done you no favors, but this wasn’t exactly the way you had guessed you were getting off of it. He had set out to capture me, and he succeeded. He’ll probably grow tired of me and throw me in the carbonite anyway, so one way or another I would have ended up on this ship. You opened the shower door and saw something on the counter that hadn’t been there when you got in.

Two gray-brown towels were folded neatly on the fresher sink, as well as your clothing and something that looked like a black knit sweater. You hadn’t even heard the door to the fresher open, let alone him coming in to drop the items off.

“Sneaky Mando!” You hollered out into the darkness of the ship, though you guessed he probably couldn’t hear you from where he was at. The idea of him creeping in the bathroom to bring you a towel made you chuckle. “I told you not to peek!”

“I didn’t.” A modulated voice right in your ear made you jump backwards into the safety of the fresher.

“Fucksake man! Scare a girl to death why don’tcha?” You wrapped your towel tighter in indignation, surprised that your nudity would make you embarrassed after what had just happened between the two of you.

He sighed a long, exhausted sigh. “After you went rouge you took out three top tier bounty hunters and not once did you try to beg the guild to stop hunting you. There’s a pretty hefty price on your head, but I think your skills could be put to better use.” The Mandalorian cocked his head at you, “Think you can do that again?”

The audacity... You huffed and put your hands on your hips in a stance of mock fury. “So you kidnap me and now you’re going to put me to work? Great. Thanks pal. Really know how to take a girl out on a date, huh?”

He shrugged. “Do you want to go back to the carbonite freezer? I’m sure Karga would love to part with all those credits for your capture.”

No... No you did not want to go back to the freezer. You glared down at the floor with raised eyebrows, pretending like you were mulling over the idea like it was a job offer and not literally your only option.

“Alright... fine fine you talked me into it. Let’s go hunting, captain.” You snapped a damp hand out for him to shake, but he just shook his shiny metal dome in what you might have guessed was a laugh. He pushed himself away from the wall and climbed back up the ladder to the cockpit without a single word.

You watched as his boots disappeared into the ceiling and shook your head, wondering now if when you woke up this morning you had any idea that the day would take you on some wild bantha hunt though space with a well-hung mystery man. You tightened your towel and tucked back into the still steamy fresher to put on the clothes he had left you. The farming tunic was in a sad state, but the knit sweater looked snug and inviting. Pulling it over your damp hair your nose was flooded with that same delectable scent that you had gotten to indulge in earlier. When he was pressed into you.

“Hoo boy...” You finished getting dressed, rubbing your hair with one of the towels Mr. Mystery had left for you. I hope he’s got travel scrabble somewhere in this rust bucket, or you’re going to have to find some more... physical... activities to pass the time. Your lips turned up in a mischievous grin at the idea.

What a strange trip this will be.

Next ->

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #self insert #smut

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vecnawrites · 3 years

Text

Penny’s Procreation Protocol

Another Patreon Reward! Don’t worry, these will be slowing down now, since I realized I made a massive whoopsie: I was posting August Rewards in August. When I hadn’t gotten the August pay yet. (Facepalm). So, next month will be more relaxed since the rewards for September won’t be posted until early October! Anyway, this one involves Penny getting some ‘upgrades’ and Yang and Nora taking advantage. Hope you enjoy!

Penny Polendina was a perfectly normal girl (hic!), thank you very much! Especially after her father had approved of her new bodily upgrades and they were installed into her body! She was now the proud owner of a fully functional penis (complete with testicles!), vagina, womb, and ovaries, and much larger breasts that came with the ability to lactate! Even better, pleasure circuits had been installed, allowing her to feel tactile sensation when they were touched!

Her father had dubbed it the ‘Procreation Protocol’. And it was to allow her to get closer to people without worry of them thinking her odd, even if perfectly normal girls (hic!) tended to only have a vagina, there were more than enough that had penises as well!

However, that didn’t mean that there weren’t...kinks. Ones that Penny, in all of her innocence and naivete, didn’t know about or understand...yet.

Her first inclination that something was amiss was when she needed to get dressed for class.

As she pulled her green silk panties up, the ginger-haired girl squeaked as her balls trembled as the silk rubbed over them, making the skin tighten, bolts of pleasure making her stop, quivering in place as the sudden intense sensation filled her body, red filling her cheeks as the conduits turned on and low heat suffused into them. Diagnostic information scrolled down her visual field.

Pleasure Circuits Heightened. Recommend Care When Moving. Penny blinked, but carefully pulled her panties up fully, shivering as the silk teased her body (thankfully, her vagina was completely covered and hidden away by her testicles).

However, Penny found the same issue happened with her bra. The circuits that acted like nerve endings in her new breasts lit up like fireworks on a night sky as she tried pulling her bra over them, her nipples swelling outwards in seconds and small beads of white fluid beginning to weep from the pink tops. Penny flushed as pleasure continued to build within her, her penis twitching and growing a bit in her underwear.

Further attempts only made her cock get harder and harder, and eventually, Penny had to toss her now ill fitting bra away with burning cheeks, residing to get Friend Ruby and ask for her help underwear shopping later.

Thankfully, her uniform top still fit her new dimensions, even if it was a bit strained and small spots were forming from her leaking milk...which were thankfully hidden by her uniform jacket, even if the resulting tightness only made her internal diagnostics blare more warnings at her!

Warning! Pleasure Circuits At 25%! Advisory Actions: Removal Of Pressure On Affected Areas!

Penny ignored the diagnostic readout, knowing that was no excuse for missing class, and perfectly normal girls like her (hic!) couldn’t miss classes over such a simple thing as ill fitting clothing items!

Taking some careful steps, Penny made her way out of her room and towards her first class of the day: Grimm Studies with Professor Port.

Penny shifted uncomfortably, pressing her legs together in a vain attempt to keep her cock from growing any harder. Warnings were going off one after another on her visual heads-up display, but she was ignoring them and attempting to focus on the class...despite the fact that she knew the actual material already, having it downloaded into her brain. So, she was certain that the next few hours were going to be very boring…

Oh, how little Penny knew…

Penny blinked rapidly, shifting and accidentally hitting her breasts against the edge of the desk, sending a flare of warning across her HUD and making her optics cross, barely noticing the two forms sliding into the seats on either side of her and boxing her in.

As the pleasure faded, she glanced to see that both Friend Ruby’s older sister Yang was sitting on one side of her, while Friend Nora was on her other side, both of them smiling widely and leaning towards her. She failed to notice the wicked intent of the returning smiles of her friends.

Shaking a bit, Penny plastered a smile on her face. “H-Hello, Friends!” H-How a-are y-you do-doing t-today?” she forced out through a stutter, hoping that they didn’t notice anything odd.

“We’re doing wonderfully, Penny~” Yang said, leaning towards her and placing her hand on Penny’s knee, Nora following and touching her fellow ginger-haired girl’s other knee. Both stroked her synthetic skin with their thumbs. “Yeah, things are great~” Nora purred.

“We couldn’t help but notice something interesting~!” Penny was unable to stop the pair as they pulled her legs open and apart. Her cheek servos flooded with heat and the small red LED’s turned on again as her skirt tented, her cock popping halfway out of her panties, though she was thankfully still covered.

“That you suddenly have a nice, yummy cock~” Nora purred out, her hand sliding up Penny’s thigh, along with Yang’s on the other side, slipping underneath Penny’s plaid skirt and snagging the elastic of her panties and beginning to tug on them, pulling them down.

Penny’s mind whirled, wondering why her two friends were doing this, while trying to press her rear end more firmly onto the chair so her panties wouldn’t move. She couldn’t afford to be disrobed by anyone! Perfectly normal girls (hic!) wouldn’t allow their panties to be removed in class, even if the ones removing them were their friends!

Penny’s eyes widened as twin hands moved up and slapped her covered breasts, sending her pleasure circuits into overdrive, making her go completely still, bright green eyes wide and mouth clenched shut to avoid making noise...although a squeak eeped out, unbidden, the wet spots on her chest spreading outwards.

“Someone’s sensitive~” Nora giggled as she and Yang tugged, the silken panties she wore sliding down her thighs and catching on Penny’s knees, but the pair edged them over and shoved them down the ginger-haired android’s legs, leaving her bare beneath the shirt...which popped up as her erect penis sprung free from its bindings, bobbing and twitching in the air of the room.

Penny opened her mouth, only to freeze as their hands suddenly moved, cupping her new genitalia and stroking it gently, Nora’s hand wrapping around her penis, and Yang’s hand cupping her balls and stroking and rolling them in her hand.

Warning alarms blared in her head as her internal diagnostics went haywire, her body shuddering at the massive influx of pleasure shooting through her circuits.

She heard her friends whispering, but it was hard to stay focused as she received warning after warning that she was about to ejaculate...only for them to suddenly stop. She couldn’t stop the whine this time, making both of her friends smirk at Penny. “Come on, Pen-Pen, let’s ditch~” Nora cooed.

“Hah...hah...ah…” Penny panted as she stood naked under the spray of the shower, Yang and Nora next to her, squished together. Yang was pressed flush behind her, her hands cupping and squeezing and toying with Penny’s breasts, watching her milk squirt out, while Nora was crouching in front of her, happily fondling her cock, balls, and occasionally slipping behind the plump pouch and rubbing her pussy.

Penny was paralyzed by the immense pleasure that her friends gave her by only teasing her with her hands, giving her great pleasure that she had never felt before...but never letting her cum. They always stopped before she orgasmed.

“Oooh~” Nora giggled, watching Penny’s thick shaft twitch and quiver, slinging strings of precum across the wall, floor, and her shoulder and arms. It smelled heady, and she licked her lips, leaning forwards to take a taste…

Crack! Nora squealed as Yang’s hand lashed out and slapped one of her tits, causing it to smack against her other one, making her shake from the unexpected pleasure before she pouted up at a scowling Yang, red faced and panting. The blonde shook her head making the plump ginger-haired girl pout harder.

Yang pressed her cock (bigger than Penny’s, but with less girth) against Penny’s rear. “You know something, Penny?” she hummed as she toyed with the young woman’s leaking tits (she was still miffed that she now had the smallest pair between the three of them!), plucking and pulling at the androids nipples, loving the myriad of emotions that flowed over her face. “Nora and I found ourselves in something of a rut recently~ And you fit the bill to fix that~”

Nora giggled, picking up where Yang left off, “After all, bringing another in only spices things up! Not to mention, think on how good it would feel~” she cupped Penny’s heavy balls and trailed a single finger along the underside of her shaft, watching the android’s legs tremble with glee, “Impaling me on your cock, while Yang fucks you with her own?”

Penny whined loudly. She had been too polite to ask her friends to stop touching her, but this-this was too much! Warnings blared across her HUD wildly, one after another, her pleasure circuits overloading at the constant teasing that she had been enduring over the last hour (Seventy-Seven Minutes, to be precise), and her body was on the brink!

Unknown to Penny, a small piece of programming connected to her new reproductive systems flickered on, and was running in the background. Her breasts bounced as she jerked and writhed in Yang’s and Nora’s holds, her eyes flickering and glitching...before turning from their normal emerald green color to a bright purple.

Unbidden, her mouth moved. “I’m Copulation Ready~♥♥!” her voice came out as a seductive, sultry croon rather than her normal, cheerful tone of voice, pulling small laughs from her new lovers as they shifted, feeling the tip of Yang’s shaft against her sensitive pussy, and staring into Nora’s impish eyes, their breasts squished together, and the tip of her own penis pressed against Nora’s plump, moist pussy lips.

“Good~” Yang purred, before she struck, thrusting into Penny with great force, pushing the shorter red-haired girl forwards...and making her cock slide into Nora’s slippery pussy.

Nora and Yang shared a grin as Penny quivered between them, purple eyes wide with shock, before they moved.

Penny was stuck between them, warning after warning flaring one after another as Yang and Nora fucked her from both sides, Yang claiming her pussy with her long cock like she owned it, while Nora flexed and moved her pussy along her fellow redhead’s cock as if she was milking it.

Penny was frozen, overloaded with pleasure, shrill warnings chirping in her head about the dangers of the amount of over stimulation she was experiencing, but there was nothing to be done. All she could do was tremble between them and be lost among the flood, barely clinging onto herself...although when both Yang and Nora began to play with her breasts, her grasp on reality was lost and she was swept fully away by the pleasure.

A keening wail escaped Penny’s lips as she finally came, her new pussy clamping down and her testicles pulsing, ejecting their payload into Nora...although despite the fact that she was coming hard, Yang and Nora had far more control and sexual stamina, and continued fucking Penny, not giving her a moment’s rest.

Finally, Penny slumped boneless, supported only by their grip, mumbling, “Cock...pussy...cum...fuck me...break me...make me your breeding toy...your little loving dildo…” the pair smiled at the fact that they had gotten the best toy they could ever ask for: a fully functional sexbot! And best of all, the only maintenance necessary was a nice fucking at least once a day!

A small price to pay, but one that the two would happily pay for sure. It wasn’t as if any of them had any complaints, after all!

#Penny Polendina #Yang Xiao Long #Nora Valkyrie #Futa!Penny #Futa!Yang #Penny Is A Cyborg #Teasing #Mindbreak #Patreon Reward #August 2021

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ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

Note

#8 "Come here, I'll carry you." for WinterIron. Can you add some smut to it please? Thank you.

this took longer than expected, but it's finally done! thank you for sending one, and i hope you like :)

it is most definitely explicit lol

“This is why I don’t go hiking,” Tony complains, wincing when Bucky gingerly touches his left ankle. It doesn’t look too badly injured, probably not even a sprain, but it doesn’t stop Tony from telling him I told you so. “I said that I would trip and fall and roll down the mountain, and then I would die there, at the bottom of a cliff for birds to scavenge my body until I’m just a pile of bones.”

“You twisted your ankle on a root, baby,” Bucky says, amused in spite of all of the grumbling. It doesn’t help that Tony’s disgruntled, pouty face is one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. “I don’t think you’re going to die.”

“There’s still a chance.”

Bucky rolls his eyes fondly, standing from where he was crouched next to Tony on the ground. He holds out his hand, and Tony takes it to get back to his feet.

Despite all the complaining, Tony doesn’t actually like looking weak. He hides pain and discomfort and doesn’t let himself get taken care of very often. Bucky knows that too well by now, after nearly a year together, and it’s why he easily notices the grimace Tony tries to disguise with each step.

He stops walking, making Tony turn back to look at him when he realizes it.

“Come here,” Bucky says. At Tony’s questioning look, he adds, “Come here, and I’ll carry you.”

Tony raises his eyebrows, “Seriously?”

“Seriously. We’ve only got about another quarter mile to the cabin, you’re in pain, and it’s not like you weigh much anyway.” Bucky takes another couple steps forward, hands on Tony’s hips, and he whispers into Tony’s ear, “I was strong enough to hold you up against the wall yesterday, remember?”

He smirks as Tony shivers, and he tucks a strand of Tony’s hair back, brushing his fingers against his skin to feel the goosebumps rise on it. “Bet I could carry you all the way back and still have the energy to do it again.”

Tony laughs, shoving playfully at Bucky’s shoulder. “Alright, I didn’t really need that much convincing. I was already going to let you do it.”

“Let me?” Bucky repeats, shaking his head with a smile. “I didn’t realize you were doing me favors here.”

He turns around and crouches lower to let Tony climb onto him, holding onto his thighs to support him when he rises up again with Tony on his back and his arms wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders. Tony’s legs tighten around Bucky’s torso, and he tucks his face into the side of Bucky’s neck to kiss him there. Teasingly, he says, “We both know you like this even more than I do. Being my big, strong hero. Pretty sure it’s a kink for you.”

Bucky grins as he starts back down the trail. “I ain’t admittin’ to nothing.”

Tony hums, and he loosens the elastic holding Bucky’s bun in place to tangle his fingers into his hair. He pulls a little, another thing he knows that Bucky likes, and his voice is seductively low when he says, “You don’t have to admit it, darling. I already know.”

“You keep that up, and I’m gonna drop you,” Bucky warns, and he can feel Tony’s smile against his skin.

“You’d never drop me.”

“Wanna test that theory?”

He lets go of Tony’s thighs for just a second, letting his legs fall a bit before grabbing on again, and he gets Tony’s screaming laughter in return as he clutches onto Bucky tighter.

“If you let me fall off a cliff, I’m coming back as a ghost to haunt you for the rest of your life. Not the nice Casper kind either. I’m talking full blown poltergeist.”

“The rest of my life, huh? That’s a lot of commitment.”

“Well, you’re already stuck with human me for that long anyway. Ghost me should get to have some fun too,” Tony reasons. “I’ll start with you, seeing as you’d be the one responsible for my untimely demise, but Clint’s really going to regret that prank he pulled on me last week by the time I’m done.”

“Can you haunt Sam a little too? He’s got a thing about ghosts.”

“Oh, I’ll get you all, don’t worry.”

Bucky twists to look at him and asks, “Why does it sound like you’ve thought about this before?”

“I’m naturally vengeful,” Tony grins, and Bucky laughs.

“Sure you are, honey.”

The cabin for their weekend getaway is back in sight through the trees, just a few hundred feet away now, and Tony seems to view its appearance as the perfect time to continue on the track of their earlier conversation. He twirls a strand of Bucky’s hair around his finger and says, “So are you really going to fuck me against the wall when we get back? Because I was leaning towards the shower first, then again in bed after, but I’m pretty flexible. Very flexible, actually, but you already know that, don’t you?”

Tony kisses the spot beneath his ear, mouth lingering there before trailing lower. Bucky groans, and his fingers flex on Tony’s thighs.

“Baby, can’t you be patient for just one more minute?”

“Nope,” Tony says lightly. He hooks a finger in the collar of Bucky’s shirt to pull it to the side to revisit a mark he left the day before and trace it with his tongue. “Maybe you should walk faster.”

Bucky does, carefully sidestepping the larger rocks and fallen branches and trying not to get distracted by Tony’s wandering hands. He takes the stairs up the front porch two at a time and clumsily fumbles with the handle on the door while Tony slips a hand into the front of his pants.

Dropping Tony back down to his own feet, he turns immediately and presses him against the closed door. Tony laughs into it at first, presumably at his eagerness, but it fades into a moan as Bucky grinds against him.

“Such a fucking tease, aren’t you?” Bucky murmurs, biting down gently on the tendon on the side of Tony’s neck. Tony moans, hands finding Bucky’s hair again and tugging to spur him on.

“Can you really blame me when this is what I get for it?” Tony asks in stuttered breaths as Bucky puts his knee between Tony’s legs to push them apart.

Bucky hums in consideration, then pulls back abruptly when he gets the idea. Tony blinks at him dazedly with a noise of protest, and Bucky smirks as he traces the pout of his bottom lip with his thumb. “I should make you work harder for it, then. Can’t just keep rewarding you for bad behavior, can I?”

“Yes, you can,” Tony whines, grabbing at his t-shirt to pull him in again.

Bucky puts his hands on the door on either side of Tony’s, elbows locked to keep his arms straight, and doesn’t give Tony as much as an inch. “Don’t think so, honey.”

Tony gives him an indignant look, but it quickly morphs into another one that Bucky recognizes well. It’s his defiant, you’ll regret this by the time that I’m done look, but Bucky already knows he won’t have a single regret. Not when it starts with Tony popping the button on Bucky’s pants and sliding them down his hips.

Every movement is slow, and it’s almost graceful when Tony drops down to his knees in front of him.

“You want me to earn it?” he asks. His wide eyes give the illusion of an innocence they both know he doesn’t have, and he holds Bucky’s gaze while palming him through his boxers.

Bucky nods, carding his fingers through Tony’s soft, unruly hair, then letting them drift down to caress his cheek. Tony leans into the touch like it's a subconscious reaction, and he turns his head to kiss his palm. The tender moment doesn’t last long once Tony wraps his mouth around Bucky’s fingers and swirls his tongue like a preview.

Bucky’s hips jerk forward into Tony’s hand on their own accord, and he groans at the pressure. He’s been half-hard since Tony first started this back on the trail, and now he’s aching with how much he wants him.

Pulling his fingers out of Tony’s mouth, he drags them across Tony’s lips to leave them spit slick, then frees his cock from the confines of his boxers. Tony wraps his hands around Bucky’s calves to urge him forward, and Bucky guides the tip of his cock into his waiting mouth.

“So good, baby,” Bucky murmurs, pushing his hair back from his forehead to get a better view of his face, and he watches Tony’s eyes brighten at the praise.

He’s completely pliant for Bucky to use his mouth, and Bucky plans to take full advantage of the opportunity. He slides in a little deeper and groans at the feeling of wet heat around him, forehead hitting the wall with a loud sound as his head falls forward.

“Just pinch me if it’s too much, alright?” Bucky says, and Tony nods the best he can. “Once to slow down, twice to stop.”

It’s still a little careful and cautious at first. He tests the limits slowly, inch by inch, pulling back when he feels Tony’s throat contract around him. He does it again, then once more when Tony makes no move to stop him and instead moans around him. It’s the permission he was waiting for to completely let go, and when he has it, there’s no further hesitation.

His hand fists into Tony’s hair, holding him still, and he watches every rough thrust of his cock into Tony’s mouth.

He’s beautiful like this, and the visual is nearly as good as the feeling itself. Eyes watery with tears that threaten to spill over his lash line and spit wetting his chin from where his reddened lips stretch around him. He isn’t going to last long at all with Tony looking at him like that, and every sound that escapes Tony’s throat only pushes him even further.

“You’re fucking perfect, baby,” Bucky groans out. “So pretty on your knees for me.”

His nails dig at the wall as he tries to keep himself upright on shaky legs, eyes twisting shut. He loses himself in the moment for god only knows how long. Tony swallows around him occasionally, but otherwise doesn’t move so much as an inch, even with how obviously hard he is in his jeans.

The hand in Tony’s hair falls slack as he nears the end, and it’s apparently a mistake, because suddenly Tony’s mouth is gone from around him. He opens his eyes again, and Tony is wiping his chin with the back of his hand as he stands.

“Now that’s called being a tease,” Tony says, voice hoarse but entirely smug. He turns towards the bedroom and gives Bucky a smirk over his shoulder. “But since I’m feeling generous, you can still join me in the shower if you’ve learned your lesson.”

Bucky gapes at him, frozen in shock, but when Tony strips off his shirt and throws it his way, he’s all but running down the hall to follow.

#winteriron #buckytony #my writing #my fic #prompt fill #nsfk

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petrichormeraki · 3 years

Note

If you don't mind then 10 kiss prompt with fwt? 👉👈 Pls

10. “Happy you’re alive” kisses

*SCREAMS* G O D I LOVE THIS SHIT HELL YES

This was supposed to be the best day of Dream’s life, the day he would marry his true love, despite the war and conflict that their respective sides had endured. It was the SMP vs L’manburg, and yet even with both sides so vehemently refusing to back down, Dream found love in the son of his enemy.

Today was supposed to be their wedding. Even if it wouldn’t change the war back home, even if Fundy and Dream would find themselves on the opposite sides of the battlefield, today was supposed to be perfect. There even was a truce, upheld under threat of permanent death; there would be no fighting here. Only love.

Dream exited the spawn portal, immediately greeted by his future husband, dressed to the nines in a three piece suit and grinning so wide his face looked about to split in half. He rocked on the balls of his feet as Dream gawked at the world, completely outfitted to represent Treasure Planet, the movie they watched on the night Fundy proposed.

“Before we do anything, I want you to put this on.” Fundy said shyly, producing folds of shimmering white fabric from his inventory. Dream uttered a surprised laugh as he unfolded the cloth to reveal a beautiful wedding dress, studded with white diamonds and rhinestones.

“WHAT? You got me a dress? Oh, and a flower--” Dream stuttered as Fundy held out a bouquet of yellow daffodils to his fiance. “This--this is amazing!” Dream carefully pulled the dress over his head, doing a little spin to dazzle Fundy as the gemstones glittered in the setting sun. “Did you--Did you get this just for me?”

“I bought the dress! It was so expensive!” Fundy affirmed, beaming as Dream turned away from him so he could help him with the veil. “I don’t want to say I’m in debt, but, uh--”

Dream snorted as Fundy pulled away, nodding in satisfaction as the veil seemed to hold steady. Fundy then formally held out his elbow to his fiance, who looped his arm in with his without prompt. “Alright, follow me, Dream, I’ve got a LOT to show you.”

Fundy gave Dream a tour of everything he had prepared, most of which were as stunning as the portal Dream came through. (The one exception was the cobblestone crafting tables. Dream playfully punched his fiance in the arm as soon as he saw them, prompting Fundy to burst out in laughter and mischievous snickers.)

The tour ended with Fundy revealing a button in the middle of a bridge looking out at the flying ship, which Fundy explained would shoot cannonballs at the island as it was pressed. Dream’s eyes lit up as soon as Fundy finished talking, and with that the guests were allowed to spawn in.

Dream immediately pressed the button as soon as their communicators buzzed with the notification that people had begun to spawn, jumping back in shock as the cannons fired explosions worth several stacks of TNT at the island. “That’s not what I was expecting!!” Dream shouted breathlessly over the deafening sound as Fundy cracked up beside him, watching the guests jump out of their skin at the noise and carnage. “That is NOT what I was expecting!!”

“...I’m gonna do it again, though.” Dream said after a second’s hesitation, slamming his fist on the button again. Fundy flinched as more explosions rocked the bridge, wheezing with laughter as he saw the guests scramble for safety. “Stop, stop!” Fundy laughed desperately, wiping a tear from his eye. “Stop, stop, stop--”

Dream figured Fundy was joking, as his laughter prohibited him from speaking, so with an ecstatic grin on his face he punched the button again.

The final explosions directly hit the bridge supports, and with a startled shout Dream and Fundy were thrown off the breaking structure straight into the void.

Dream caught himself in midair, floating in place. He tried to refrain from using his godly abilities in front of his friends, but in moments like these they came out in a reflex.

Dream’s relief was torn from him as he realized his fiance did not have the fail-safe he possessed, and was plummeting into the endless void with a choked scream of terror exploding from his lungs.

Dream moved without thinking. He dropped into the void after Fundy, wind tearing against his body and making his eyes water. Still, he plummeted, reaching out his arms for his husband as the sky became darker and darker the longer they fell.

The air got thinner and thinner, and right as Dream saw Fundy’s eyes flutter shut, his hand brushed his suit jacket sleeve. Dream gripped it as tight as he could, yanking upwards and praying that his clothes wouldn’t rip him away.

Dream pulled Fundy close and abruptly halted their decent, his balance thrown off by the sudden midair stop. Dream wasted no time in shooting back up to the floating islands, the air’s sudden shift from freezing to a comfortable warmth making his muscles ache.

Dream landed on the bouncy castle, springing into the air a few times before his momentum slowed and allowed him to dismount. Ever so gently, he laid Fundy on the ground, his heart thudding so hard he was sure the entire server could hear it.

Fundy’s eyes were closed, his head limply succumbing to gravity when Dream hesitantly tried to shake him. “Fundy-? F--Fundy, wake up--”

Footsteps rapidly approached him, and Dream felt Sapnap’s calloused hands nervously flit about his shoulders as he stared at Fundy. His chest hadn’t moved since Dream laid him down.

“Fundy?” Dream said, less as a question and more as a statement. He didn’t know who he was even directing it to. “Dream, h-” Sapnap said gently, breaking off to swallow thickly. “He’s....He fell in the void, man.”

“I saved him,” Dream weakly argued, unable to tear his eyes away from Fundy’s still form. He heard Sapnap take a shaking breath, his friend’s hand squeezing his shoulder in a failed attempt to be reassuring.

“He...He’s gone, Dream. He went too deep.”

A strangled cry spilled out of Dream’s throat, his body going rigid at Sapnap’s words. “NO! NO! HE’S-”

Dream struggled against Sapnap’s arms that had suddenly wrapped around him tight and attempted to drag him away. “NO!! LET ME GO!! SAPNAP!!” Dream sobbed, reeling his head back and slamming it into Sapnap’s face. His friend cried out and released him at once, clutching at his bleeding nose with watering eyes.

Dream raced to Fundy’s body and hugged him close, reaching out his omnipotent senses for the life force that he begged the universe was still within reach.

His mind entered the in between, between life and death and everything in the middle. It was a place where Dream had only been once before, in an attempt to test how far his abilities could reach. He had no motive then, other than curiosity, and that alone was not enough for even a god like him to push back against the forces of nature.

But now, he had a cause. He would not accept death, not this time.

Dream pooled all the love in his heart that he felt for Fundy, remembered the fox’s caring and compassionate nature and his unabashed love for Dream despite them being on the opposite sides of the wars. The god held on to his love for Fundy like a lifeline and cast it to the void of spirits, praying to anyone who could hear him that his hand would not return empty.

He would not let Fundy die. He refused to believe this was the end.

Dream’s consciousness brushed against the color of love, of familiarity, the pure feeling of his Fundy. He snatched at it with all of the force his mind could conjure, and then visualized snapping it away from the light in the far distance.

Fundy’s body jerked violently in Dream’s arms, ripping his mind back to waking world. He opened his eyes to Fundy taking a heaving breath, shaking in his fiance’s arms.

Fundy’s pupils were blown way out of proportion, fear and confusion and subtly growing recognition in his expression. “Wh--what--” Fundy whispered, the words cutting off with a breathy cough as he gasped for breath. “What--what happened? Dream?”

A mix of a laugh and a sob bubbled in Dream’s throat as he made eye contact with Fundy, warm and breathing and alive in his arms. He faintly recalled moving, but then his lips were on Fundy’s and everything else faded away.

It felt like a million years when they broke apart, breathless and in tears. Dream held Fundy’s face and bit down another sob of relief as he traced every detail of his fiance like he would never see him again.

“You’re alive,” He said, tears spilling down his face. Fundy’s cheeks had flushed a deep pink at Dream’s sudden display of affection, seeming to steadily become aware of the crowd of guests that had gathered while he and Dream were in limbo.

“I shouldn’t have seen you.” Fundy said hazily, blinking rapidly. A flash of confusion crossed Dream’s mind. “What?”

“It--it’s bad luck, huh.” Fundy explained with the slightest hint of a playful grin on his face. “T--to see the bride before the wedding.”

A shocked laugh burst from Dream’s chest and he kissed Fundy once more to wipe that dumb look off his face.

“Stupid.” Dream said, his voice welling with love when they parted. “You’re so stupid.”

#SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #I LOVE THEM SO MUCH #midnightmagi #meraki answers #fundywastaken #dream smp #kinda #writing prompts #fic response

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mc-lukanette · 3 years

Text

All Marinette wanted was to have a nice time at the festival with her friends. Play games, eat some snacks, and maybe win a prize or two. It was simple and exactly what was reasonable to expect from a festival.

She didn’t know what part of that included being stuck in a haunted house attraction with Luka. She’d tried her hardest to avoid that area specifically, yet she’d somehow been shoved into it alongside Luka the moment she’d let her guard down. It wasn’t that she’d hated the idea of getting one-on-one time with him, but the location wasn’t exactly ideal.

As they walked into the next room, trying to find their way out, something leapt out at them from one of the fake walls. When Marinette had originally imagined she and Luka harmonizing, she thought it might be them singing along to one of Jagged Stone’s albums, but instead, it was them screaming in unison for the nineteenth time as they bolted ahead.

They stopped in the following room to catch their breath, with Marinette whining at nothing in particular, "How big is this place?"

"I have no idea," Luka lamented. Taking in a large breath, he added, "I’m so sorry, Marinette. It’s just like Jule to do something like this."

"What?" She spun around to face him. "No, it wasn’t just Juleka!" She paused, noting, "I-I mean, I know that’s not really better, but don’t apologize for it! You didn’t do anything!"

He let out a noncommittal hum, looking away with an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks. "Not directly, but I’m sure Jule wanted to see me freaked out."

Perplexed, she tilted her head. "Why would she want that?"

He sighed. "Because I can usually play perfectly, so people like to see me miss a note or two."

Marinette frowned, having never thought about that. Hoping it sounded somewhat comforting, she chimed in, "People do the same to me, but—ah—not because I ‘play perfectly,’ obviously." She toyed with her fingers. "I think they just think it’s funny to see me react to things."

He gave her a sympathetic look and she vaguely wondered if this was really better than trying to get through the haunted house as quickly as possible. They were technically delaying the inevitable next - and hopefully last - scare, but at the same time, it was still nice getting her alone time with him.

A thought occurring to her, she pointed out, "I didn’t know you hated anything horror-related. O-oh! Unless you told me and I didn’t remember, in which case—"

"I never told you," he confirmed. "Jule was always watching horror movies late at night when it was dark. I guess I was too—" He glanced off at the side, his modest self probably finding his words weird to say. "—nice, to ask her to turn it down."

"Having siblings sounds terrible," Marinette half-joked.

Luka snorted, though his frown didn’t fade. "She’s great, but once she figured me out, she liked scaring me every now and then."

"Really?" She’d never taken Juleka for the type.

He shrugged. "I never said anything because—" He paused, and she could see that he felt like he was being ridiculous. "—I didn’t want it to change how you saw me."

"Change—" Marinette blinked, a mix between confused at what he meant and charmed that he cared so much about what she thought of him. "—how? If anything, I’m relieved!"

He straightened, giving her a weird look. "Relieved?"

"Yeah!" She threw her arms out in dramatic fashion. "You’re human!"

Luka’s eyes went wide, then he jerked forward, stifling a chuckle.

"I’m serious!" she insisted, even while smiling herself. "I thought you might’ve been a perfect angel descending on us mortals!"

He chuckled again, nearly breaking into a giggling fit. Looking up at her with a fond expression, he waited until he was calmer to reply, "I could say the same thing about you."

She blushed. He seemed to realize what he said, given the way his brows rose, but he didn’t take it back either. She was only now feeling all the romantic atmosphere in the room, knowing very well that this was not the place to be having it.

"A-ah—so!" She leaned forward to take his hand in hers - okay, maybe that wasn’t going to help anything - then turned away. "We should get out of here! The longer we stay in here, the worse it’s going to be!"

She could sense his smile. "Yeah, let’s go."

She was glad he didn’t misinterpret what she’d said. He’d always had a way of reading her that she really admired.

They continued on, the room cluttered and with multiple diverging paths. It seemed like a perfect place for someone to pop out or make some spooky noises, but Marinette was thankful to be not as "on edge" as before, a lot of tension drained away from her conversation with Luka.

Then, the already-limited lights went off.

Marinette jumped, feeling Luka clutch her hand tighter as he flinched. She blindly reached out, but abandoned the idea immediately, not having the courage to try and feel her way around.

"It...it’s okay!" she tried to reassure, turning to him even if she couldn’t see anything. "We’ll just use what we remember seeing before to figure out which way to go! Um—" She looked around, trying to envision what the room had looked like. "I-I think there was a break in the curtains this way?"

She hesitated, waiting to see if maybe Luka had any other ideas. He was oddly silent, however, and she was starting to worry that the hand she was holding would end up not being his.

"...You’re incredibly brave, Marinette," he suddenly said.

"Huh?" She was briefly thankful to the darkness for hiding her dumb surprised face. "No, I’m really not! This is terrifying!"

"That just makes it all the more impressive," he argued. "You're scared, but you don’t stop. You keep going no matter how many times you think you slip up. Even with Adrien, you never quit. That takes a lot of courage."

She blushed red, now thankful to the darkness for a different reason. She wasn’t sure whether to thank him or brush off the compliment, but—

"Wait," she began, squinting. "With Adrien?"

"Hm?"

Realization hit a moment later, embarrassing her. "Oh. That’s right. I never told you. I guess—it just never came up?" She shrugged, knowing that he might at least feel it through their joined hands even if he couldn’t see it. "I...I moved on from Adrien a long time ago."

"Really?" he asked.

Without the light, she only had his voice to work off of. It almost made it easier, as his face often didn’t give things away unless he wanted it to. She could hear a hint of hope in his voice that he clearly tried not to make known.

Staring down at their hands, she confirmed, "Yeah. Um, I love someone else now."

He didn’t respond verbally at first, but just by the way his grip on her hand lessened, she imagined that the hope died out.

"They're very lucky, Marinette," he said, voice quieter than usual. "Have you tried telling them?"

She paused, swallowing her nerves and hoping that she wasn’t imagining things. After all, he did flirt with her earlier, unless she was just reading too much into it. Outside of how long it took her to realize her feelings, she didn’t have any reason to believe he didn’t still feel the same.

Squeezing his hand, she whispered, "I want to - I don't even have an excuse for holding back, since they already confessed to me - but..." She breathed up, adding quickly, "I can't see their lips when it's this dark."

His fingers twitched against her hand; another nonverbal reaction. She squinted at him, hoping to see any hint of his reaction, but she couldn’t even make out his silhouette.

It hadn’t even occurred to her that they haven't been jumped by anyone for a while.

Finally, Luka spoke up, a clear lightness in his voice. "Do you think you could remember what you saw before to figure it out, Marinette?"

"Remember—" She stopped, realizing what he meant, and her heart did a flip in her chest at how happy he sounded. Absorbing the moment, she looked down and ran her thumb along his hand, needing a few seconds to confirm to herself what was happening.

She felt his other hand fall upon her shoulder, the feeling alone letting her use her memory to visualize him in front of her: his casual attire, the earrings he never took off, his gorgeous highlights that she'd daydreamed about feeling between her fingers, and his vibrant blue eyes that sent waves of calm over her.

She reached up. On her first try, her hand found his cheek and her thumb slid gingerly over his lips. Luka giggled in response and she shuddered at the way his lips twitched, like he was tempted to kiss her thumb just for effect.

They both leaned towards each other, exchanging a long overdue kiss. It never occurred to them that maybe it wasn’t that no one had tried to scare them, but that they’d just been too into their own little world to notice it.

#lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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kimetsunoyaibawritings · 3 years

Text

Introspection

[AO3 Version] | [Original Request]

Rating: General

Summary: When a rainstorm threatens Tanjiro's travels through the countryside, he takes refuge in the home of a kind stranger. During his stay, he discovers that not only is his host of half-demon blood, but their mother had also been a member of the Demon Slayer Corps.

Tanjiro is nothing if not curious, and learns more about the multifaceted world of demonkind, hopefully growing ever closer to undoing the curse upon his sister.

Tanjiro could tell that something was off. From the moment that the man had entered into his physical perception he knew that something wasn't quite right. The man -- you -- weren't entirely human. Neither were you entirely demon, but he couldn't get much detail behind the simple fact of otherness that permeated the air around you with every shift of your body.

It wasn't a bad smell either. In fact, when you bowed in greeting, he found the gesture scented with honesty and friendliness instead of hidden malice or insincerity. He bowed in turn, and the two of you exchanged names. It didn't take long before you took note of his weapon, and much less after that to realize that the wooden case hefted against his back held something far less trivial than one would have assumed. Not something, but someone.

His nose was sharp -- for a human, at least. Yours was just as honed, though the ability came from your mixed blood than from a rare natural gift. It took but one breath with a defined focus to realize the young man you'd met was hardly a normal person.

Demon Slayer.

The words held some semblance of meaning. Nothing with coherent form; they were words passed down to you from your parents, spoken with such fearful vitriol that you had to wonder what kinds of people became such Slayers of Demons. Surely they would be bloodthirsty, heartless souls that would so willingly strike down such simple people without due thought or consideration to what their sins truly were -- assuming that existence itself wasn't a sin for a demon.

But as Tanjiro stood before your eyes, you had to reconsider the image that had built up behind the words. He did not look bloodthirsty. He didn't even seem aggressive. But he still carried the nichirin blade that you'd been warned of, and you had to wonder how many demons had been killed at the mercy of its sharpened edge.

So you, a half-demon standing before one so named a demon slayer, do the careful thing:

You invite Tanjiro to stay with you for the night.

Truthfully, Tanjiro isn’t in a position to reject the offer. he’d been traveling for several days through the rolling landscape between the mountains, and he could smell a thunderstorm coming in. For all that he couldn’t understand you or your strange scent, Tanjiro really had no reason not to trust in his kindness.

The house you called your own is humble, too far from the nearest village for anyone to randomly stumble upon you without incredible forewarning. Tanjiro is actually quite the rarity, one that you find some manner of joy in meeting — the last person you’d met was half as kind and barely a fraction as patient.

“Are you a demon slayer?” you find yourself asking barely a moment after the two of you have stepped into the narrow threshold of the front doorway. Beyond is a home consisting of a few rooms at most, minimally furnished but meticulously cared for.

Tanjiro barely has the chance to set his gear down, but he flashes an earnest smile in your direction.

“I am,” he says. There’s pride in his tone. “Though I’m a little surprised. Not a lot of people recognize us that quickly, unless…”

“No. I don’t have any connection,” you quickly dash his assumption aside. “But I recognize the uniform and weapon you’re carrying. Nichirin blade, correct?”

Tanjiro blinks, but the look of warmth never quite fades from his face even as he nods to affirm your suspicion. It sates your surface curiosity, but it doesn’t offer any sort of clue as to what is in the box he’d carried upon his back. For a moment you wonder if it would be rude to inquire about it, but shrug the notion off quickly when you remember how strange the box smells. Not weapons, not rations, but something softer.

“What’s in that box of yours?”

Tanjiro’s entire frame stiffens. In barely a breath’s worth of time, his demeanor tightens up and leaves the young man looking tense and unsure. With one hand gently laying upon the wooden surface of his cargo, he says, “Something… very important to me,” he then reaches his other hand up, fingers splayed open and shaking as if to ward off concern. “-but I promise it’s nothing dangerous.”

You can smell a soft trace of anxiety around him. While the unexpected reaction incites a spark of curiosity within your chest, it’s not without a resounding sense of restraint and mannered respect for Tanjiro’s privacy. If he doesn’t wish to share the nature of it’s contents with you — someone who is little more than a stranger to him, admittedly — then he is under no such obligation. Still, you purse your lips for a moment in disappointment before lightly gesturing for him to step further into the house with you.

“I’d been cooking food when you arrived,” you say gently. “Clean yourself up and I’ll serve us both something hot to eat.”

It doesn’t take very long before the two of you are sitting together, sipping at the brothy soup that had been bubbling away for the entirety of the earlier afternoon. Though the majority of the meal is somewhat silent, Tanjiro’s eyes move about the room, taking in every detail that raises above the floor and out from the walls. It doesn’t take a genius to realize how well he fits into the ideal of a Demon Slayer — Tanjiro is perceptive and foolhardy with at least some basic talent for the blade on his hip.

Beyond that, however, you’re not quite sure what is to be expected of him as a slayer. He’s very kind and respectful… but those are hardly the traits you’ve come to associate with the title. Everything about the young man demands curiosity, so much that you don’t realize how his gaze has settled onto one particular spot on the wall behind you. By the time you remember what is hanging openly, Tanjiro’s lips are already forming a question -

“Whose sword is that on your wall?”

You don’t even turn your eyes around to look at it. The object has taken a defined place within your memories — you can’t forget the shape of the blade, the texture of the hilt, or the soft smile of it’s previous owner even if you genuinely wanted to purge them from your thoughts.

A sigh escapes your lips after a few moments. “It belonged to my mother,” you explain after a moment. When Tanjiro’s rust-colored eyes light up, you decide to answer the question just behind his lips. “And yes, it’s what you think it is. She was a demon slayer herself.”

“Oh,” the syllable falls with a sense of understanding of was rather than is. A misjudged understanding, given the ambiguity of your answer, but a respectful one nonetheless. “I’m sorry.”

A moment passes.

“And… your father?” Tanjiro asks.

The speed at which you shake your head is almost comical. No. No. The visual image is a joke in itself, and Tanjiro doesn’t even realize why his question is so humorous to you.

“My father was not the kind of person for that line of work.” a gentle chuckle does manage to escape the poised line of your lips. “…I doubt he’d be able to wield a blade like that in the first place.”

It feels as if the conversation is going to continue out from there, a gentle rolling of waves upon the edge of a beach after the brief storm of near-realization to what was hiding just beneath the surface of half-dodged answers. But it doesn’t manage to get farther than another breath before a noise sharply echoes out from the wooden box set out near the doorway and shocks both of you into a gazing silence.

“Tanjiro,” your tone is careful and your eyes hone in on the item. Caution prickles in your fingertips and against your tongue as claws and fangs slowly emerge from behind a carefully-kept glamor. “what is in that-”

“What are your thoughts on demons?”

You blink, turning to face the man again with a look that does not hide an ounce of your confusion. It takes a few moments for some of the dots to connect to one another. The reason for him asking your opinion is hanging right above your head, a heavy reminder to half of your heritage — but it doesn’t quite match all of the points of confusion all but emanating from Tanjiro and the strange box he carried with him.

Still, his question deserves an answer. And even as your eyes settle carefully on the square shape across the room, you offer one.

“Asking my thoughts on demons is no different than asking my thoughts on humans,” you say, words careful and tone oddly tight. “Some are good, some are bad, and none-” a sharp breath passes over your lips. “-none are perfect.”

Tanjiro’s eyes linger on you for a long while, longer than what feels comfortable for the silence between you. For a few moments you wonder if his question was a test and your answer had failed it abysmally, but it didn’t change your feelings on the matter in the slightest. Nothing ever will.

Another sharp noise echoes from the direction of the box. Your eyes begin to dart towards it, but the motion of Tanjiro’s body commands your attention towards him instead, he as if ready at any moment to launch himself towards the box, but his eyes meeting yours openly and earnestly.

“So you’re saying you think some demons can be good, right?”

You watch him, but sense no malice in the young man’s gaze.

“Of course.”

Relief seems to flood across his expression. When another, more rhythmic sound comes from the box, he doesn’t so much jump towards it as he does shuffle to his feet and step across the room. Before he’s able to reach it, however, the door suddenly opens to reveal a shape of pink fabric spilling out from within. You blink and watch as the fabric moves, and ever so quickly does your mind realize that there is a person within it, wearing the kimono that reminds you of cherry blossoms in springtime.

By the time Tanjiro is at the side of the wooden box and holding out an outstretched hand, you’ve come to realize that it’s been a young girl inside of it the entire time.

A demon. The scent doesn’t escape your nose for a moment, though it lacks the underlying sharpness of iron you’d come to expect from others of her kind and yours alike.

And Tanjiro regards her with tolerance, nay, respect. It seems to take the young woman a few moments to orientate herself to her surroundings, but he smiles at her with all the same gentleness.

“It’s okay, Nezuko,” Tanjiro says brightly, pulling the woman onto her feet. “This is a safe place.”

Despite all the words that press up behind your tongue, you can’t help but stare at the young duo. Tanjiro smiles and gestures towards the young woman beside him, Nezuko.

“This is my… younger sister,” he says at last. The air settles around the room in a nonverbal confirmation of information that doesn’t take more than a heartbeat to confirm, but it leaves you equally confused and curious all the same.

“Tanjiro,” you murmur, words finally picking up a semblance of strength. “This may be a stupid question, but are you aware that your sister is currently a demon?”

Though it’s not clear what would have been more surprising of an answer, Tanjiro’s honest nod does seem to do plenty to throw you for a loop. A demon slayer traveling around with a demon at his side? The notion vexes you completely, even if the demon in question is a member of his familiy. Unless…

“Was she born a demon?”

Tanjiro and Nezuko both look at you, the former with a more defined look of confusion across his face.

“Born…?” he asks. “As in turned? Turned into a demon?”

“Ah,” you suddenly feel a bit silly and more than a little embarrassed as his confusion seems to be genuine. “I think I misunderstood a few things. I’ve got my answer in any case but, no, I did actually mean born as in physically birthed.”

While Nezuko loses interest in the conversation and begins to roam about the room, her brother slowly settles back onto his spot across from you — albeit shooting a glance to his young sister every once in a while which is admittedly endearing. The two of them seem barely old enough to be out on their own, and you’re not sure if the demon slayers even have a minimum age requirement to begin with as long as someone can hold a weapon and defend another.

“How could someone give birth to a demon?” Tanjiro finally asks. “I thought they were only created by… uh.” he pauses for a few moments, waiting as if to catch something in your eyes. Recognition perhaps? “…A man named Muzan Kibutsugi.”

He’s not bothering to conceal his befuddled expression as, behind his eyes, you can see the threads of thought and logic try desperately to put an answer together from the bits of information he already knows about demon-kind.

“Most are,” your words taste bittersweet on the tongue. “But not all of them. Some demons can create other demons if they’re strong enough.”

Tanjiro nods as the faces of both Lady Tamayo and Yushiro appear in his mind’s eye. Though she had been a demon created by Muzan, he recalled that Yushiro was created by her hand in the continuing search for a cure to turn someone human once more. It had been the only instance where he’d come across a demon not created by the demon king himself, but it’s a clear enough example that Tanjiro doesn’t need to stretch his mind very far to understand your words.

Seeing this recognition, your hand raises to gesture up towards your chest, fingertips barely skimming across the wash-worn fabric of your kimono.

“You asked before about some demons being ‘good’.”

Tanjiro nods. Even Nezuko has moved her attention towards you, though she stands solemnly in one of the darker corners of the room as her eyes glow like shimmering sakura blossoms.

Considering the nature of whom was sitting in front of you — the organization for which Tanjiro allied himself with — there was a part of you that wished to simply lie between your teeth and wait out the night until it would be socially acceptable to all but kick the young warrior out of your home. That part had good reasons to be cautious and fearful, but another part of you found something hopeful behind the young man’s eyes. You aren’t naïve enough to call it ‘trust’, but the emotion is certainly within the same pond.

“My father was a good man,” your hand lingers, stilled against your chest and all but faintly feeling the thrum of your own heartbeat. “An odd man, but a good one. Tended to the fields, took care of my mother when she fell ill, even managed to make friends with some folks of the local village. He respected everyone around him.”

Even as he remains politely silent, something starts to click in Tanjiro’s eyes, even before you finish the point of your words.

“…my father was also a demon created by Kibutsugi.”

Tanjiro blinks with wide surprise and shock stilling the words that otherwise press against the back of his lips. While there had been a growing hunch forming somewhere within his thoughts, he can’t help the suddenness of the question needed to confirm them when he finally can speak again.

“Does that mean that you are-”

“Half-demon, yes.”

"How does that even...happen...?"

You chuckle, "I'd imagine how most people go about having babies."

Tanjiro's cheeks turn a dark red, and he quickly drops that particular line of questions.

You try to offer the young man a comforting smile, but he continues to stare in a summation of awe and disbelief. He’d never even thought that a demon and human could have a child together. For the longest time since learning of their existence, Tanjiro simply thought that demons couldn’t have children at all — like an extension of the curse befallen upon them, leaving them wanting for human flesh and blood, feral and wild and-

It is then that Tanjiro’s thoughts click into place once more. No. He’s not without multiple examples to the contrary, strengthened each and every day by the knowledge that his own sister is of the same creation as many of the demons so easily vilified and hated. But, even then, it doesn’t change the fact that Nezuko is a rarity — her lack of bloodshed is, as far as he’d learned, a genuine oddity among other demons.

“… Have you killed anyone?” he finally asks. His eyes glance towards the floor, looking almost ashamed in having to speak the words.

You shake your head. The question is hardly a surprise — you actually would have been more caught off-guard if that hadn’t been the first thought on his mind. But oddly enough, the question is something of a comfort. It allows to you answer it honestly.

“I haven’t hurt or killed anyone before — since part of my blood itself is human, my diet is relatively lackluster.” with a sweep of your hand, you gesture out to the empty bowls in front of the two of you. “I can be out beneath the sun, but my skin is somewhat sensitive to it; just a short while in direct sunlight can leave me with a terrible burn.”

Tanjiro nods. He brings up a hand to his chin for a moment to ponder over the details and new information as what appears to be every thread of his thoughts devote to try and weave it all together with what he already knew. One detail into another, filling up the ever-growing sense of curiosity that he had for demons and those around them. If nothing else, it proved that there were still things that not even the Demon Slayer corps understood properly — or, if they did, they certainly didn’t admit to them. The Hashira’s response to Nezuko solidified that well enough.

After a few moments, Tanjiro’s attention flicks back up to your face.

“Your… mother was a demon slayer, right?”

You nod politely, though it doesn’t take more than a quick glance back up to the nichirin blade hanging above both of your heads on the wall behind you to be reminded of the fact.

Tanjiro’s gaze tilts ever so slightly with his head to one side. “How did your mother and father meet?”

You shrug. “I never learned much of the details, though I do know that he was at one time a demon she was sent out to kill.”

Tanjiro chuckles after a few moments.

“I think I can guess what came after that,” he says. “So was your father… around much after you were born?”

“Of course!” your expression all but beams at the gentle memories. “Just because he was a demon doesn’t mean by default he was a bad or neglectful father. Though I suppose he so often seemed sickly to others; not able to go outside during the day, having to hide himself when there was company… I admit there is a lot about my father I still don’t know.”

For but a flicker of a moment, you are absolutely certain that there is a sadness within Tanjiro’s eyes. A mutual bitterness, empathetic beyond words. But the look is gone ever so quick, so much that if your perception was but a moment slower it would have been missed entirely.

But what remains is yet a soft expression.

“Thank you,” he finally says. “I am trying to learn as much as I can about demons right now.”

“I assume as much, being a demon slayer.”

“No, no it’s-” the young man looks suddenly flushed. “I promise I’m-… I’m not going to tell anyone about you. I just, think that… there’s a lot that I don’t understand. But I would like to. You see, my sister and I-”

And so, Tanjiro tells you the story of how he and his sister began traveling together — the murder of his family, his sister being turned into a demon, his promise to himself and those he lost that he would try to right all of the wrongs that had been done to them. He explains how he joined the demon slayers, how he had met other demons who had been kind to him in much the same way that you had been. Though the names Tamayo and Yushiro held no recognition, they did bring a sense of warmth to your chest in the confirmation that being a demon didn’t truly mean one had to give up their sense of humanity and kindness.

One topic moved onto another as the night continued on and the rainstorms moved in. Through the soft pitter-patter of water against the roof, you did your best to answer as many of Tanjiro’s questions as you could despite the fact that your knowledge of Muzan went no farther than simply hearing it once or twice and having a basic understanding of his role in the origin of demons themselves. There is also something admittedly humorous in watching Tanjiro’s expression when your glamor falls just a little, revealing sharp claws at the tip of each finger and fangs barely hidden behind the press of your lips.

“Neither my father nor I had any semblance of combat ability, but they’re useful for hunting.” a moment passes. “Animals, I mean. Me and mother still had to eat something.”

Perhaps it’s the reminder of your mother, and her lack of presence in the house with you, that finally encourages the question forth, “How long have your parents been…?”

“Dead?” you don’t fear the sound of the word or the notion behind it. “It will be twenty years this coming spring.”

“Twenty years?” Tanjiro gawks. “H-how old are you then?”

“I was born in 1857, so…” you do the math in your head, giving Tanjiro several moments to try and come to terms with the fact that you barely look older than your mid twenties at most. “This year I will be fifty-five!”

Your bright, sharp grin is in hilarious contrast with the shock all but painted across the young man’s face. After giving him a breath to take in the information, you point out, “I am half-demon. Time doesn’t mean as much to my health as it does a normal demon.”

“I… see,” Tanjiro’s eyes return to normal, but there’s no hiding his lingering awe. “So will just a nichirin blade… kill you?”

You have to laugh at just how shy the question is for the severity of the words. “Trying to plan my demise already, demon slayer?”

Though Tanjiro immediately begins to shake his hand and try to babble out an apology and explanation alike, you aren’t cruel enough to let it linger for more than a moment before explaining, “A normal blade could behead me and I would die. I could drown in a lake or perish from a high enough fall. In all things but old age, I’m still very mortal, Tanjiro — for better or worse. I can’t speak for any other half-demon you may come across, but I know that much.”

A moment of silence passes between you. Tanjiro thankfully doesn’t ask about your parents or their passing. In fact, he seems rather satisfied by the amount of information he’s gotten already, so much that his mind constantly looks as if it’s rolling about within his skull, putting together a puzzle with far too many pieces missing for most people to even bother in the first place.

The rain continues to fall. It’s a gentle white noise, ceaseless, and punctured only by the dull rolling sounds of thunder as it moves across the edges of your perception. It doesn’t take long for you to realize the time either, knowing even without looking out the door or window that the moon is high into the night sky and that, furthermore, it was not hospitable of you to keep your guest from getting a good night’s rest.

“If you have no more questions, I think it would be a good idea to get some sleep.”

There were more questions — there is always more questions — but Tanjiro can’t ignore the fact that it’s late and, yes, he would need to be moving along to his next destination early in the morning. It doesn't’ take long to ready a place for him to sleep, and less so for Nezuko who seems content to simply be near her older brother. Though she doesn’t speak a single word to you, the look in her eyes seems soft and curious, perhaps even grateful.

It’s understandable why Tanjiro has such a moderate view of demons despite being among the Demon Slayer Corps himself.

That fact in itself is something of a comfort as much as it is a curiosity, one that lingers with you even when you see the young man off the next morning, so early that the sun has barely crested above the hills and mountains on the horizon.

And Tanjiro, as he leaves, finds himself renewed with energy and questions alike. Every time he thinks he has a strong grasp on the world around him, something new emerges that throws it further into perspective in an ever-growing map of knowledge. Though the edges continue to get blurrier, there’s something nice in familiarizing himself in it. To Tanjiro, it brings him further hope for the future of not only himself, but for the Demon Slayer Corps and the greater world around them.

Maybe, he hopes, he’ll run into you again one day.

And maybe then he’ll be able to introduce his sister to you as a human — or perhaps the world will have grown in such a way that, like the union of your parents and the makeup of your own blood, it won’t even matter in the first place.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fic #male!reader #sfw #sfw fic #writing #sfw writing #gen fic #gen writing #no ship writing #no ship fic #readerinsert #readershot #tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #request fill

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wonhaebunny · 4 years

Text

small(ish) bkg-centric drabble vaguely inspired by sif’s fic and featuring one of my discarded ocs from blackugou!! open below to keep reading some bamf bkg!

before i get started on the drabble let met give y’all some context about the oc, as his quirk plays a pretty important role in the drabble!! his name is hioki, and he’s in class 1-b. his quirk allows him to project the memories of a person he’s touching into the mind of another person he’s touching. so if he’s holding two people’s hands, he can project memories of the first person into the second person’s head. the sharing of memories involves of not only visuals, but also what the person was feeling at the time; touch, noise, smell, emotions. they project the memory as if the viewer is experiencing it themselves.

hioki does not have to view the memories he’s projecting to other people. he can view them too if he wants, but he can also just project them from one person’s mind into the other’s without having to experience any of it himself.

okay so that’s my oc, let’s get into it!!

tws for vomit, and what could (??) be construed as a panic attack? i’ll tag it just in case. this revolves around kamino, but there’s not too much detail about it. this drabble is… kind of not monoma friendly. people had some pretty strong emotions about it in the server. but he’s not a completely shitty person, and i personally did not write him to be a terrible character; he’s just annoying :’) katsuki is pretty ooc here too, but it’s based off another hc i have (that i’ll be posting sometime soon hsfsdf)

it’s lunchtime, and all the students are piled into the cafeteria. once again, there’s a small crowd forming in the center of the big hall, where monoma has once again decided to start taunting 1-a, mainly bakugou. the onlookers are a mix between annoyed at the disturbance and vaguely amused by monoma’s shenanigans. hioki stands at the side, watching with vague irritation. this is somewhat of a daily occurrence, though, so he doesn’t bother interfering. after all, if there’s one thing bakugou is known to hate, it’s people trying to help him.

it takes all of five minutes before monoma makes his first obligatory kamino comment. katsuki stiffens, the way he always does, but to his credit does nothing more than glare at his katsudon venomously. they all wait for monoma to finish, but the guy is laying it on thick today. normally it’s just one or two jabs about bakugou’s being pathetic, or weak, or the cause of all might’s end. whatever, there’s always something. but today he’s brutal, getting personal and downright cruel with his comments. he seems to focus in on the topic of kamino today, seeming to sense bakugou’s bad mood and increasingly furious eyes.

as it goes on, bakugou grows tenser, eyes darkening with something a little unfamiliar that sets the surrounding students on edge. kirishima and the others are already trying to shove monoma away, some of them patting at bakugou’s shoulders in useless attempts to soothe him. bakugou is too busy staring monoma down to even bat their hands away, which speaks volumes of his anger.

he stares for a long time, watches as monoma rambles on carelessly. it’s a little unnerving, because by now he’d be yelling. fuck, if it was anyone else, they’d probably be crying by now with how mean monoma is being. but bakugou, uncharacteristically, just stares.

then, so smoothly most of the surrounding students miss it, katsuki’s gaze snaps to hioki’s. said student flinches back at the intensity of the stare, and bakugou just looks at him like he’s dissecting him mentally. then, he opens his mouth. “hioki, right?” he says, words quiet but still managing to cut through monoma’s impassioned rantings like a hot knife through butter.

monoma falters.

katsuki’s lips slowly, ever so subtly, twist up into a predatory smirk that has hioki recoiling instantly.

“u-um.” hioki says.

katsuki sits up in his seat slightly, abandoning the food he’d been prodding at.

“you’ve got an interesting quirk… hioki-kun."

hioki swallows.

monoma, who stands forgotten at the side, looks baffled and somewhat disconcerted at the smile that’s slowly stretching across katsuki’s face. the entire cafeteria has hushed down by now at this new development.

normally, monoma’s interactions with bakugou are easy. annoying at worst, entertaining at best. typically a mixture of the two. monoma pokes, bakugou snarls, the cycle keeps going.

this, however.

this is new.

"say, hioki-kun. would you lend us your quirk for a moment?” bakugou asks. his voice is quiet, musing, and absolutely terrifying in its gentleness. hioki opens his mouth, before closing it again.

bakugou katsuki knows his name, and his quirk, too? they’ve never talked a day in their lives. as far as hioki’s concerned, bakugou’s never even looked in his direction. the guy can’t even remember his own friends’ names on a good day. and yet here he is, looking at hioki with a placid smile, asking for his quirk.

“i-um. what?” hioki says. his voice cracks rather embarrassingly. no one laughs. (they don’t blame him for his fear.)

even bakugou’s own friends have backed off at this point, watching the trio in muted apprehension. the blonde just chuckles softly.

“no, it’s just. monoma seemed so very adamant that he could fare better than me in the real world.” he stresses the word out with an exaggerated pout, turning sharp eyes to monoma, who shrinks back slightly. “and hioki-kun’s quirk seems… very convenient. that is, if you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is?”

monoma seems to consider this for a moment, looking completely out of his depths in this new situation. he knows how to deal with an irritable bakugou, a grumpy one, a furious one. but a calm one? he’s lost.

nonetheless, the clear challenge in bakugou’s tone has him puffing his chest out in indignance. “what, like it’d be hard?” he jeers, stepping forward. “come on, hioki, let’s get this over with!"

he holds his hand out roughly in the other’s direction, narrowed eyes glued to katsuki’s serenely twinkling ones.

"i-i really don’t think-” hioki stutters, looking between the two of them desperately as if waiting for one of them to announce that this is all a big joke.

neither of them do.

“would you, hioki-kun?” bakugou asks kindly, extending a hand to the other, palm upturned in waiting. “you don’t have to, of course. but it would be… ah. entertaining, for lack of a better word.”

monoma seems to grow even more irate at the indirect jab. hioki helplessly steps up to place each of his hands in one of the others’ waiting ones.

“monoma.” bakugou says, eyes going cold and smile fading slightly. “i’m giving you a last chance to back out. don’t embarrass yourself more than you already have.” his words are serious this time, devoid of any of the light humour that had been lacing them the previous few minutes.

monoma, ever the stubborn mule, just scoffs. "calm down, you delinquent. acting so superior, as if we haven’t faced hardships like you.“

bakugou tilts his head slightly, examining the other.

then, he shrugs.

"okay. hioki-kun, if you would?”

hioki nods hastily, hands already sweating in their grasps. the entire cafeteria watches, rapt, as his eyes close and his hands start to glow a faint, silvery blue.

“oh, and hioki-kun? i think it’d be best if you didn’t witness these ones.” bakugou murmurs, eyes already slipping shut. hioki, palms already clammy and trembling slightly, doesn’t question how the blonde seems to know his quirk in such explicit detail. instead, he just nods again.

“okay.” he whispers. the blue turns stronger, until their connected hands glow a bright white, veins visible behind illuminated skin. the room goes pin-drop silent. they watch as bakugou sits, eyes shut and expression serene. monoma is frowning, brows furrowed and lips twisted in a petulant scowl.

they watch as the white grows brighter, and brighter still.

they watch as monoma’s scowl drops, free hand clenching against his side.

as his expression flickers, twisting into something unreadable and ugly.

then, unmistakably, his breath hitches.

his mouth opens slightly, sucking in a ragged, shallow breath. poor hioki’s hand is turning red under his quickly tightening grip as monoma’s entire body seems to curl forward slightly.

the entire time, bakugou sits. expression unchanging, small, bitter smile still lingering on his face.

monoma’s breathing picks up further, closed eyes scrunching and expression twisting further into sheer terror. his free hand is clenched so tightly in his pant leg that his fingers are turning white.

bakugou’s eyes slip open finally. he watches monoma’s trembling form with detached coolness, eyes gleaming with a silvery sheen that signals the workings of hioki’s quirk. “i think that’s enough, hioki-kun.” he says finally, voice impossibly soft. “thank you.”

the glow of their hands fades away, but monoma doesn’t stop trembling. his breaths are coming in reedy gasps at this point, lips curled back to bare his teeth in a picture of sheer terror as he curls into himself.

bakugou just watches, eyes still glinting with slowly-fading flecks of white. slowly, he lifts his hand from hioki’s and picks up the milk carton at his table. he sips from it idly, leaning back to watch monoma’s still-heaving form with an unreadable expression.

it seems that lunch rush had at some point and reported the disturbance to the teachers, because it’s at this point that a teacher finally storms in.

vlad king pushes to the center of the throng. "what is going on here?“ he demands, before his eyes fall on monoma’s shaking figure.

"what happened to him?"

he turns around, scanning the crowd before his eyes land on katsuki, who’s still watching monoma boredly as he sips at his milk.

"what happened?” he demands again. “someone answer me. monoma, what’s wrong?” he turns to his student, whose rasping breaths are growing louder progressively, and touches his shoulder. at the contact, monoma’s entire body jolts away, eyes finally snapping open with wild panic.

then, the entire student body and vlad king watch with bated breath as monoma jerks away, turns around, and throws up over his own shoes.

vlad king curses loudly, turning back to katsuki. the blonde just blinks at him placidly, and the teacher growls, before his eyes fall on a wide-eyed hioki who still stands in the centre of the circle. “hioki. explain.” he says sharply. hioki sucks in a fearful breath.

“um. monoma was. he was teasing bakugou-kun. and then bakugou-kun asked me to, uh. use my quirk. on the two of them. i don’t know what exactly he showed monoma, though.”

he wrings his fingers anxiously, as they turn their attention back to a retching monoma. vlad king turns to stare at bakugou sharply.

“you.” he says furiously. “principal’s office. now. i hope your little game was worth it.”

the blonde seems wholly unbothered.

“it very much was, thank you sensei.” he responds, smiling cheerfully as he pushes from his seat and brushes past vlad king out the cafeteria, still holding his milk carton.

#i didn't want to add the ending here?#bc it's already so long #and it devolved int a mixture of crack and monoma redemption?#but very badly done #and when i say badly done i mean worse than this shit ^^#anyways :|#bunny's drabbles

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ellinights · 4 years

Text

Lim Sejun: So sensitive, baby. (M)

genre: smut, sub!sejun, dom!reader, overstimulation kink, sexual content, M.

request by anon.

cries- anon i am so sorry for the super duper late request but here it is! hope you like it

ngl but i see sejun as a switch and can i just say, he is so endearing when he is a sub?? like, i bet he will be so whiny and cute when he is getting controlled aaaa. (ikr the gif he looks so hot and he is a sub here so forgive me for my terrible gif selections)

the sweet faint scent of sex lingering the cold room tingled your sense of smell, with you and him in the room, as the tension of sexual pleasure is starting to build up within yours and his body.

laying down on the cold silk bedsheets was him, your one and only, the man you loved the most, sejun. the sound of his name passing through your lips was such a endearing sound to hear, causing the thump of your heartbeat to escalate. and, having him beneath your command and control was the most erotic thing you have ever seen.

everything about him was simply just sexy, his all-well-known sculptured figure like a Greek god, that shows much of his sex appeal, was all bare for you to see. His fair, smooth skin was ravished with hickeys that would take weeks to fade away. but mostly his face, with an outstanding visual, contoured into a pleasured, lewd expression, was the most attractive thing you have came across.

who have known a little sweet talk to the so-called “cold ice prince” could get him into your trance?

“b-baby..please..” he airily moaned out a soft plead, as his knuckles turned white at how much strength he is using to hold the bedsheets beneath him. the call from him caused your thoughts about him to vanish in thin air and your attention to be fully averted to him. now your warm lips creped up slowly into a sly, dirty smirk.

you started the game moments ago, and you know it was about to reach the climax. you are stroking his length as a warm up to see how much a good boy he is, and how obedient he seems to claim. and now, he was a moaning mess, whimpering quietly at how painfully slow you were with him when all what he wanted to do was release and make a mess out of himself.

“what baby? wanna cum in my hand so soon hm?” you said out a reply, with full of mockery as you started to increase the speed of your strokes against his aching, wet member.

he choked out another moan, this time slightly louder than before, squirming in his place. a set of whimpers escaped through his red bitten pairs of sweet lips, you simply chuckled. he looked at you dead in the eye, imaging his plead and begs for you to let him milk himself out. you leaned closer to him, acting all sweet to him, and caressed the side of his face.

“aww baby, look at you so desperate to cum hm?” your wrist snapped, giving all the speed you can so he’ll reach his high. he was about to reply, showing he is a well-mannered puppy to you but the words couldn’t come out, as if it was stuck in his throat. he managed to gasp out air, at the such intensity he was experiencing at the moment. you already knew he was close.

“cum baby, cum for me then” you said coldly, with a sense of power in your hands, and before you knew, white ivory hot seed starts to shoot out from his member, painting the creases of his prominent abdominal muscles, as the warm liquid glistened nicely under the dim lights of the room, making the muscles on his stomach looking more attractive than ever. he let out the loudest, most beautiful moan you’ll ever hear from him, and it was the best kind of music for your ears now.

as he was riding his orgasm, he thought you would stop there, but you didn’t. your hand was still wrapped firmly around his still-hard length, stroking him with the same speed as before. his perfectly symmetrical brows knitted closely together, as he had a soft innocent confused look on him.

oh god you would’ve fucked him senseless with that face of his

“baby..? what are you doing..?” the black haired male asked, breathlessly. you didn’t answer him, but instead, you kept on going, jerking him off again from square one, just like moments ago when you started to warm him up. his body was at its peak of sensitivity, letting out a cry in pleasure.

‘b-baby..? you wanna-”

“you looked like you wanted to desperately cum so much in my hand just now didn’t you? now i’ll make you cum as much as i want, just like how the way you like it” you finally spoke out your intention, and his brown pretty orbs widen in shock. the intense stimulation against his length was sending him millions of electrical impulses through his body. this time, he let out what more sounded like a loud cry at the overwhelming pleasure running through his body.

“w-want me to cum again b-baby?” he asked, voice high, eyes half-lidded as he looks at you.

desperation, that is all you can see from him.

“don’t you wanna cum so bad for me baby boy?”

you know that nickname would have an effect on him, and it did. letting out another series of whimpers for you to hear.

you pressed the flatten surface of your thumb against the slit of his length, doubling the stimulation for him. an obscene, lewd whiny moan escaped pass through his lips again, all dry and red in display. you decided to lean forward and press a messy smooch against his lip, wetting those dry pair of his.

“i wanna cum please?.. can i?-.”hearing his own voice getting choked on air was entertaining to you, knowing all the reasons why he was like this. despite having his high minutes ago, he was so sensitive to release for a second time. but he held it in, wanting to be a good boy for you. your lips crafted itself into a smirk again. it was the widest smirk you have ever given him. you thumb pressed with much pressure against his slit, holding his orgasm first, before you let go of your thumb.

“then cum. be a good boy, sejun. and cum.” and he did, for the second time, shooting his hot seed, messing your hand as you continued to move your curled hand up and down his wet, slicked shaft as fast as you can. his load was more than the previous one, wetting the bedsheets as well as it drips down from his stomach to the bed.

small soft whines and hoarse moans slipped off from his now wet, swollen lips, lifting his forearm to cover his face as he hide from embarrassment. you could only snicker, releasing your hand covered with his cum from his member, before directing it against his mouth. he caught on your message, and sucked in your long warm digits into his warm cavern, licking every drip of his load off from your fingers, whining shyly as he was tasting himself.

“you’re so sensitive, baby” you pointed out, and he could only let out a small weak squeak in defeat, too weak and overwhelmed from his previous high.

“i’m not over with you baby.”

“h-hm?..” the forearm covering sejun’s fucked-out face then pulled itself away, looking into your dark orbs, plastering a confused look on himself again.

you let out of loud scoff, one of the corners of your lips tugged up again, as you straddled his lap, pressing your core against his wet member, causing another unexpected moan to escape right off from his lips. you already lost count on how many beautiful noises he made in bed at this moment.

“let’s have real fun now hm?”

oh the night is gonna be a long one

HSHSHSHH OH MY GOD WHAT DID I JUST WRITE AAAAAAA I FEEL SO SHY NOW. anon i hope you are okay with this one! thank you for requesting! i apologize if there are any mistakes. requests are still closed, i will open them up when i am done with my requests! see you in the next story! peace out.

#victon #victon sejun #victon smut #victon imagines #sub!victon #sub!sejun #victon drabbles #victon one shots #dom!reader #im so embarrassed #what am i writing aaaa #kpop #i have sinned enough for today

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atsunflower · 3 years

Text

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending.

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair.

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked."

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating.

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 4 years

Text

Jealous - Brett Talbot x Reader

(gif source)

Summary: y/n’s car breaks down and a classmate of hers gets a little flirty while helping her. Brett is Not A Fan.

Word Count: 2004

Warnings: cursing & a cute lil fluffy ending

a/n: this is my first brett x reader fic (i’m having quite a few firsts, aren’t i?), requested by @anamxleetuan . i’m currently open for requests, so feel free to send some in! also, this is a wee bit dialogue heavy, i hope ya like it anyway.

masterlist

“Crap” y/n muttered to herself as she unsuccessfully tried to start her car for the fourth time. Her little sedan was about twenty years old and had definitely seen better days, but it got her from point A to point B so she couldn’t complain too much. Until now, when she was stranded in the school parking lot. She groaned and rested her forehead on the steering wheel in between her hands. Of course this had to happen in the middle of August, when the lovely California weather was resting at a not-so-comfortable 88 degrees.

She was about to dial her boyfriend, Brett, when she remembered that he was at lacrosse practice and probably wouldn’t see any calls or texts for at least another hour. With the exception of herself and a few of the lacrosse players’ cars, the parking lot was completely deserted. y/n tried for a fifth and final time to start her car, the vehicle sputtering and going silent once again. She huffed out an annoyed breath before mustering up the will to get off of the surprisingly comfortable seat and try to find out what was wrong.

No one was ever able to make the mistake of thinking y/n y/l/n couldn’t take care of herself. She made sure she always knew at least the basics for responding to accidents and emergency situations. She practically knew enough first aid to tack an M.D. to the end of her name, she knew how to replace her own flat tires, and had proved on multiple occasions - much to Brett’s surprise - that she had good enough survival skills to last in the woods for a few days on next to nothing. Yet, here she was, frustration growing with each additional minute she spent out in the sun as she tried to figure out why her car wouldn’t start. After studying the contents underneath the hood for a solid five minutes and finding nothing out of place visually, she cursed under her breath. It’s the damn battery. Of course that dash light isn’t working, either. Conveniently enough, she had no jumper cables, however, the more obvious set back was that she was lacking another car to jump hers with.

y/n groaned as she threw her head back and rubbed a hand over her face. She was weighing her options - wait for Brett to finish practice and catch a ride home with him or call a repair service that she definitely didn’t have the money for - neither of which seemed ideal. She was interrupted mid-thought when she heard someone clear their throat behind her and she jumped, her heart practically beating out of her chest. She turned to look at the source of the noise, a hand delicately resting over her chest in attempts to calm her racing heart. Part of her was prepared to encounter the latest supernatural villain to grace Beacon Hills when she turned around, so she was pleasantly surprised when she was met with a boy she recognized from her biology class. He wore a bright smile that would make any girl weak in the knees and his honey brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight. Max, I think his name is… Just before she was about to open her mouth to introduce herself, he spoke first.

“y/n, right? From biology?” he asked. y/n shook her head with a smile, a little bit surprised that he knew her name considering the fact that she didn’t really talk to anyone in her classes. He cleared his throat after not-so-discreetly checking her out for a moment. “I’m Max. You need some help?” he offered. In that moment y/n found herself thanking everything that was holy for the unexpected encounter with her classmate.

“Actually, yeah. Do you have any jumper cables?” she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes. Max smiled back and nodded.

“I do. I’ll go grab my car and meet you back here,” he finished as he began to walk away. y/n nearly squealed in excitement. Okay, so maybe getting her car jumped wasn’t as big of a blessing as she was making it out to be, but it meant she didn’t have to shell out hundreds of dollars to a repair service that probably wouldn’t do anything anyways, it also meant she didn’t have to wait out in the sun for her boyfriend to finish lacrosse practice.

Max pulled his car into the spot next to hers and y/n had to admit that she was impressed. She let her eyes roam over the contours of his sleek black mustang as she bit her lip and he smirked a little to himself at her reaction. The sound of the car door shutting snapped her out of her trance and she looked up with a grateful smile. Max returned her smile as he moved towards the trunk of his vehicle, pulling out the jumper cables. He popped his car’s hood and began hooking up the cables. y/n offered to do it but Max declined, insisting on doing it himself. Ah, would you like at that, chivalry isn’t dead. After he hooked up the cables and started running his car, he leaned against his hood and they started talking about different things, mostly school though. If y/n wasn’t mistaken, the tall, deep brown haired boy who she’d never formally spoken to was flirting with her.

y/n was so wrapped up in her conversation with Max that she didn’t see Brett coming out of the locker room with his lacrosse duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. Max checked his watch and figured enough time had passed for y/n to be able to start her car. He gestured for her to do so and she excitedly walked towards the driver door, swinging her key ring around her index finger. She slowly turned the key in the ignition, crossing her fingers as she did so. When the car hummed to life she cheered out loud, pumping her fist into the air. Before she knew what she was doing, her excitement took over and she wrapped Max in a bone crushing hug. Brett raised his eyebrows from afar and picked up his pace as he walked towards the pair.

“Oh, shit,” y/n murmured once she realized what she was doing and quickly pulled away. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. That was probably so awkward and out of line- I’m just- I’m just really excited, thank you so much,” she rushed out sheepishly, wringing her hands together. Max simply looked down at her smugly before turning to unhook the cables.

“I don’t mind, sweetheart,” he smirked in her direction. Though Brett was still out of normal earshot, his heightened senses picked up every word of the conversation. He normally didn’t consider himself to be a jealous person, but he’d be lying if he said that the way Max looked at y/n and the way he called her “sweetheart” didn’t set him on edge. It wasn’t until Brett stood only a few parking spaces away from y/n car that either of them took notice of his presence.

“Oh! Hey Brett!” y/n beamed as she turned towards him. Her bright smile and the innocent glint in her eyes was almost enough to tame his jealousy. Almost.

“Hey, babe,” Brett replied, placing special emphasis on the pet name. He approached her and wrapped an arm around her back, letting his fingers rest firmly on her hip as he kissed her cheek. Max watched the exchange between the two, suddenly feeling a little deflated. His Adam's apple bobbed while he swallowed thickly as Brett shot daggers at him with his eyes. y/n noticed the look Brett was throwing Max’s way and internally rolled her eyes. He’s acting like a territorial dog, she thought. In attempts to diffuse the situation, she cleared her throat, interrupting the one-sided staring match.

“Brett, this is Max from my bio class. Max, this is Brett, my boyfriend.” she introduced the boys. Max coughed, assumedly choking on his own spit, and offered a nervous smile to Brett, who simply gave a curt nod of his head. This time when y/n rolled her eyes she didn’t try to hide it. Knowing that her boyfriend’s mood wouldn’t improve while Max was still with them, she decided to wrap things up for everyone’s sake. She lightly elbowed Brett’s side, feeling bad for Max, the confident boy appearing a little frightened now (and probably rightfully so).

“Well, I really appreciate all your help, you’re seriously a life-saver,” y/n thanked him. Brett bit his tongue and turned his head to the side, trying to keep his cool as Max seemed to become more relaxed while y/n spoke to him.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Max cleared his throat. “I should, um, I should- I should probably get going,” he stammered out in a questioning tone. “See you in biology,” he finished, smiling warmly but nervously before he got into his car. Brett stared at Max driving away until the black mustang pulled out of the parking lot. When he turned back, y/n was looking up at him with a disappointed look on her face.

“Really?” she gestured to where Max’s car was once parked. In all honesty, she found his antics more amusing than she did annoying, but that didn’t mean he had to scare her classmate. Brett shrugged his shoulders shamelessly as he pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head. y/n let out a semi-frustrated huff but nonetheless relaxed into his arms and wrapped hers around his shoulders.

“He was being too friendly,” Brett argued as he brushed some of his girlfriend’s hair out of her face.

“He was being helpful. You scared him,” she replied, her chin resting on his chest as she glanced up at him. Brett smirked before leaning down to give her a sweet kiss.

“Good,” he murmured against her lips, the smirk still plastered across his face. y/n rolled her eyes and lightly swatted his chest, before pulling away as a smirk of her own slowly spread across her face. Brett’s smile faded as he took in her mischievous look.

“What,” he asked blankly, not entirely sure he wanted to know what had her grinning that way. She slowly began walking backwards, poking his chest as she distanced herself.

“You’re jealous,” she teased, a devious glint in her eye. He let out a short laugh, throwing his head to the side in amusement.

“I am not,” he bluffed. The moment the words left his lips y/n knew she was right, she could read him a little too well.

“Oh man, you totally are,” she laughed as she turned to walk towards the driver door to get in her car. She added a bit of swing to her hips as she walked away to seal the deal and it didn’t take long before Brett cracked. He was on her in seconds, pressing her up against the side of her car as he breathed down her neck.

“So maybe I am. I can’t help it that you’re so damn hot,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She turned around in his arms so her back could rest on the car as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders. Her eyes danced over his face as she took in his sharp features and warm eyes.

“No need to worry, babe. I only have eyes for you,” y/n assured with a wink and small grin. She continued to stare up at him, love swirling in her eyes as she took in the way he practically glowed in the afternoon sunlight.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Brett replied, resting a hand on the back of her neck as he leaned down to capture her lips in a slow, loving kiss.

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tag list: @linkpk88

#brett talbot x reader #brett talbot fanfiction #brett talbot fanfic #brett talbot imagine #brett talbot x y/n #brett imagine #brett x reader #brett x y/n #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf imagine #request #requests

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tunedtostatic · 3 years

Text

truths and dares

After the Iris 2 crew spends a wild night celebrating together, Sana is wishing through a pounding headache that certain crewmates hadn’t dared her to drink straight from the bottle. Meanwhile, Park seems more concerned with the truth part of the night.

2.5k, Sana/Park (and Iris 2 crew)

Also posted at archiveofourown dot org, /works/33560497 (I’ll put a real link in a reblog)

CW: Drunken shenanigans, excessive alcohol consumption, mostly played for laughs but not totally. Suggestive language, though nothing beyond T-rated if that.

The hangover/coffee storyline is a retread of the premise of @iffeelscouldkill’s wonderful Sana/Campbell fic “Strong Coffee and Sourdough,” because my brain went “What if THAT but with PARK?”

Sana opens her eyes and immediately wishes she hadn’t. The sunlights in her cabin on the Iris 2 have come up, and Sana decides she wants to go back in time and kidnap whichever IGR engineer decided, doubtless to optimize personnel efficiency, that cabins should default to scheduled natural lighting. Anything to stop the photons now stabbing into her very soul.

Memories come back hazily: The first batch of moonshine on the new ship. A patch of the Deep familiar to the former Rumor crew, but days away from the more populated routes. Things feeling steady for the first time in a while. A crew dinner and a night of drinking to celebrate.

A lot of drinking. Sana groans, trying to put images together as her head pounds. She remembers sitting at the mess hall table with the others, singing. She remembers racing up and down a hallway with Krejjh and…McCabe?...with some kind of objective in mind, passing a ball back and forth, as the rest of the crew cheered. She remembers sitting in a circle on the floor of the darkened mess, Krejjh dramatically taking shelter in Brian’s arms as someone…Violet?...told a spooky story.

After that, she draws a blank, though she does have an odd sleepy memory of waking up, in this bed, to the sound of…Arkady giggling?

With a frown of confusion, Sana groans again, then sighs. She normally tries to watch her limits a little better than this. Oh well. Deep or no Deep, as Captain, she should probably go check on her ship.

Rubbing her eyes, she steps out of bed, and immediately has to pinwheel her arms to avoid tripping over the sleeping form of Violet, who is stretched out on the floor of Sana’s cabin. Arkady is twined around her, an arm slung around Violet’s chest and her face in the crook of Violet’s neck.

It’s extremely cute, though Sana can’t for the life of her guess why it’s happening on the floor of her cabin. She frowns, noticing that both of their eyes look puffy from lack of sleep. Well, Arkady and Violet awake in here at what Arkady would call “shit o’clock in the morning” would at least explain that last memory. Kind of.

As soon as she steps into the dimlylit hallway, she is hit by the welcome aroma of coffee. Feeling like a bloodhound on a scent trail, Sana heads toward the mess hall.

As she passes the bathroom, she sees what looks like an empty mug on the floor next to the doorway, along with someone’s—Brian’s—glasses. Sana picks up the glasses and polishes them absentmindedly on her shirt, tucking them into a pocket.

There’s also a bedraggled feather boa hanging off the sign on the supply closet door, and Sana squints groggily at it. Since when did the Iris 2 even have a feather boa?

As she comes up on the mess hall, Sana can see that its sunlights are up as well, but at least the mess hall makes up for them with a noticeable increase in coffee aroma. Rubbing her eyes again, Sana gingerly makes her way through the doorway, but before she can step around the corner to the kitchen half of the space, she is stopped by a sight not unlike the one in her cabin.

The hammock Sana rigged up—this one not from safety harnesses—is empty in the bright sunlight, but under it, three of her crewmates are sprawled in a sleeping pile. Krejjh is lying on their back, snoring loudly. Brian seems to have taken it upon himself to act as a human pillow for their injured knee, lying with their leg draped over his shoulder. And, a foot above him, the person who inflicted that injury is lying with their head pillowed on Krejjh’s stomach and Krejjh’s arm around their waist. McCabe is snoring almost as loudly as Krejjh is, their cheek squished against Krejjh’s sweater.

Sana stares in bemusement for another second before shaking her head fondly and inching around the tableau, making her way around the corner into the kitchen.

Park is standing at the counter, fully dressed and pouring himself a cup of coffee. Sana blinks at him for a second before the rest of her brain kicks in. “Park! Good morning.”

Though Sana is sure she made plenty of noise rounding the corner, Park looks oddly startled to see her, keeping his eyes directed at the mug and coffeepot in his hands for a long second before turning to meet her gaze. “Captain. Good morning.” His eyes drop momentarily away and he clears his throat awkwardly. Meeting her eyes again, he asks, “Would you like some coffee?”

“I would love some coffee.” Sana stares greedily at the steaming hot liquid in the mug in Park’s hands. Park has very nice hands, strong and sure as they set the coffeepot on the counter and pass the mug…to her?

Sana stares at the mug for a second before her brain kicks in again and she stretches out a hand to take it. “Park, being the captain doesn’t give me coffee priority,” she tells him, amused.

“It will be a hardship to take another thirty seconds to pour my own,” Park intones, deadpan, as he takes another mug down from the cabinet, “but no sacrifice for my commanding officer is too great.”

“Point taken.” Sana chuckles as she raises the mug to her nose, sniffing it blissfully before taking a sip. Oh, that’s good. “Thank you, Park.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.” Park replaces the coffeepot in the coffeemaker, raising his own mug to his lips. “You look like you need it.”

Sana eyes him suspiciously. Was that a drag? His voice is as bland as ever, but of course with Park that doesn’t mean anything.

Setting the mug down on the counter, she raises a pessimistic hand to her hair. Sure enough, she can feel it escaping its former ponytail to form a chaotic frame around her face. Glancing down, she can see that her shirt, which was already stained with engine oil, is crooked, Brian’s glasses still poking out of her pocket. At least she wasn’t wearing any makeup last night. “I must look a disaster.”

Park snorts into his coffee. “Don’t worry, Captain, you always look—” He blinks, as if his own brain is suddenly catching up with his mouth. “Like a captain,” he finishes lamely.

Sana smirks, wondering what he was going to say. “Like the undisciplined captain of a scrappy smuggling ship, you mean?” She eyes Park’s tidy button-down shirt, pilfered from one of the storage lockers onboard. “I guess to your discerning eye, a hungover smuggler captain with hair from here to Neptune isn’t that different from a smuggler captain at her glossiest.”

“Something like that,” Park says drily, taking another sip of coffee, and Sana laughs.

“Thanks for the coffee, Park. I definitely needed it.” She winces. “It seems like last night got a little…wild.”

“I think certain members of the crew, including you, may have…imbibed a little more than originally planned.”

“Yes, I’ve been getting that picture,” Sana says drily, wincing again. “Park, I…do usually try to watch my limits a little better than this. I’m not sure exactly…” She trails off.

“Well, you can lay part of the blame for that on that final, uh, drinking game.”

Park’s voice has turned suspiciously sheepish on the last words. “Drinking game?” Sana prompts.

“Truth or dare.” Park’s voice is mild again. “Specifically, the part when your pilot said, ‘Time to get Cap’n Tripathi wasteeedddd—’ Park’s Krejjh impression is eerily on point. “To which you said, ‘Someone needs to be able to keep an eye on the emergency alarms,’ to which Patel said, ‘Violet and I already agreed to stop for the night, Sana can get fucked up if she wants to.’” He sets his empty mug on the counter, reaching for the coffeepot. “At which point Liu said something to the effect of, ‘Go, Captain, go! Woooooohoo!’”

Sana groans.

Park looks amused, though this fades a little as he adds, “Uh, I think the thinking was that those who were a little more sober would keep an eye on the rest of us, but after McCabe dared you to drink straight from the bottle, things got a little…out of hand? If, uhm, memory serves—” He winces, the first visual indicator Sana has seen underlining his self-categorization in ‘the rest of us.’ “If memory serves, that was when Liu did think to spirit the booze elsewhere. She and Patel went to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t, um, stop breathing, and things here—” He nods toward the pile of crew under the hammock, “wound down to their natural conclusion.”

Krejjh, Arkady, Violet, RJ, I am going to kill all four of you, Sana thinks, though she has to concede that the person she’s actually mad at, or maybe rattled by, is herself. Getting drunk is one thing; passing out too drunk to be left alone is a different story.

For right now, she just sighs. “Sounds like we need to revisit our protocols for how much booze gets brought out in one night.”

Park has raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth at ‘protocols,’ but Sana premeditates him. “Informal protocols. The word ‘protocol’ was probably never spoken.”

Park snorts again, taking another sip of coffee.

“Anyway, thank you for the update, Park.” Sana leans against the counter. “At least no harm was done.” She thinks back to Arkady giggling in the early hours of the morning, and the puffiness of her and Violet’s eyes. They must have stayed awake until morning keeping an eye on her. Well, at least they seem to have kept each other entertained.

“Yes. Um.” Park sounds uncharacteristically uncertain. “About that. I’m…uh, I’m glad I happened to catch you this morning before the others…Well. Alone.”

Sana frowns curiously at him.

When he begins again, his voice is professional. Too professional.

“Captain. I’d like to apologize for what I said last night.” He winces. “Uh. Even if you don’t remember what I’m apologizing for, which it seems you don’t. But if you happen to, or someone mentions it…I thought I should apologize.” He squares his shoulders. “It was a tactless thing to say and I give you my assurance that it will not impact our working relationship going forward.”

Sana eyes him, deciding on a gentle, “It sounds like we were all pretty drunk, Park. Whatever you said, unless it was a confession of…I don’t know…” She tries to think of a crime that would actually set him apart from the rest of her crew. “Killing…a planet…for fun, I think we can overlook some less than tactful words.”

“It wasn’t,” Park mumbles into his coffee. “That kind of confession.”

Sana frowns again, confused.

“During the ‘Truth or Dare’ game.” Park’s voice is a careful monotone. “Krejjh asked me, ‘Former Agent Park, if you were to smooch anyone on this ship, who would it be?’ and I said, well, you.”

“Oh.” Sana takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She can see why Park is freaked out, but, she tells herself, it all sounds fairly standard for a drunken crew escapade. It didn’t—doesn’t—mean anything more than that. “Well, it sounds like they didn’t give you the option of saying ‘Absolutely no one aboard, thank you,’ so picking the first crewmember you could think of who wasn’t in a committed monogamous relationship sounds like a very reasonable…”

“I also said,” Park continues miserably, “that you were not only the smartest criminal I’d ever tracked but also the sexiest captain I’d ever met, that Roderick Quincy Cresswin Junior didn’t know what he was giving up when he betrayed you and left you and everyone you cared about to die horribly on Cresswin Landing, that if Ignatius Campbell loves you as much as it sounds like he does then he was an idiot not to kiss your beautiful face last time you were on Telemachus, and that anyone lucky enough to love you should strew nuts and bolts and rivets and flowers in your wake wherever you walked. Or flew.”

Upon finishing this recounting, Park stares into the middle distance, and Sana leans against the counter, staring at him.

“Park,” she says feebly, “You know I’m not technically a captain, right? I don’t have any accredited training—”

Park, who still looks like he wants the kitchen floor to swallow him up, gives this the non-answer it deserves, and Sana takes another few seconds to compose a less inane response.

“Well,” she says, in her best captaining voice, “Sometimes when a group of humans drink together, some, uh, horny language happens. People find other peoples’ bodies attractive; booze removes some verbal filters around that. You were too far gone to have the filters you would have wanted to have; you clearly didn’t mean it in a creepy way, and it doesn’t have to affect anything in our working relationship.”

Park relaxes. “Thank you, Captain.”

He hesitates, still looking a little uncomfortable. “While we’re discussing this, I should add for the sake of completeness that I feel a certain attraction to you all the time. It wasn’t just finding you, uhm, ‘sexy’ while I was inebriated. But I assure you I won’t let it affect our working rel—”

“You do?” Sana interrupts. She can feel herself staring at him as several weeks’ worth of pieces finally fall into place.

She’s definitely blushing.

“I do.”

“Park,” Sana says gently. “For the sake of…completeness…I’ll add that I feel a certain attraction to you. All the time. As well. But—”

Sana looks at him, really looks athim: this attractive man who three weeks ago was an IGR agent representing everything Sana is against, who calls her Captain and still flinches at sudden movements in his peripheral vision.

“But,” Park finishes for her, “there are a lot of ‘buts.’”

“Yes.”

“Whatimesit?” Across the room, Brian is blinking in the faux morning light, looking bemused to see his fiancé’s leg draped over his shoulder. “Wheresmglasses?”

At his motion, Krejjh starts to stir. RJ blinks and makes a face at the sunlights, squeezing their eyes shut and trying to bury their face in Krejjh’s sweater.

Sana smiles at Park. He gives her a small smile back, and Sana feels as though they have settled themselves onto the same team, two people facing a universe of strangeness both external and internal.

“We’ll talk about this more. Sometime.”

Park nods, his usual taciturn motion.

“Good morning, crew,” Sana calls as she makes her way toward the pile of hungover crewmates under the hammock. “Good news! Park made coffee!”

#tscosi #the strange case of starship iris #alcohol #sana tripathi #jin-seon park #park/sana #my writing #fic

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obeymeaskme · 3 years

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Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: I will be pinning a master list for ALL chapters uploaded, and adding links to said master list!

Chapter One: The Arrivals (2/2)

Word Count: 2213

Rating: 18+

Lights had filled the room. Purples, reds, greens, blues, yellows, golds, and pink flooded around the house like snakes searching for it's meal. Finding their targets still fast asleep, they coiled around their bodies until they were both covered head to toe. In almost an instant their bodies were swallowed whole, and the colored fog had disappeared as soon as they arrived. Leaving no one in their wake. Just the house. Empty of any breathing soul.

Through the closed eyes of the young girls, the colors still swirled. They were almost hypnotized by it. To each of their own the colors formed happy dreams, calming scents, and other promising visions. Even then, a black haze had started taking over. Though they were not awake their bodies had felt the shift and difference in their surroundings. Their skin no longer felt the soft warm beds. Now they lay flat on their backs upon two cushioned slabs. The air around them had grown hot, and uncomfortable. Their dreamy visions had finally faded to black, the panic set in, and they opened their eyes. Fully hoping their dreams turned into a nightmare. Concern and paranoia had set in as they shot up and locked eyes on each other. Fear evident in their faces.

Thoughts of cults and kidnappings came from their mouths as they tried so hard to figure out where they were. A loud and controlling voice echoed from nearby. They turned to the voice only to be met with seven uniformed men sitting under a high pedestal where another man sat, dressed in red. Noelle was first to stand up, her shaking feet feeling the stone cold ground that sent a shock through her body. Instantly, she stretched an arm out in front of Bella to protect her. The height difference between Noelle and Bella seemed comical to the seven men sitting at ground level, as various snickers and smirks were targeted towards them. The man above them speaking out again.

“Please, Don't be so afraid! You were brought here with good reason, and pure intentions!”

“What? Are you gonna brainwash us or something? Cause that would be the only "good reason" I can think of....”

Noelle spat back at the man, but shrunk slightly as he stood up, and frowned. Feeling looked down on, the girls tried to walk backwards for a door, but they only found the slabs they had woken up on.

“There will be no brainwashing, and you're more than welcome to leave at any time you desire. But only if you agree to change into more formal clothing, and listen to what I have to say...”

Noelle had yelped at the additional person who seemed to have been already standing by their side waiting, and holding on to clothing. A pleading look on his face had the girls silently agreeing to play along. Within the small amount of time they got dressed they seemed to have shaken off the general shock. Both of them seemed to admire the large banners decorated with different animals. They hung above the seven men in what was perceived as their rankings.

The silence that fell was broken too soon by the man in red who was obviously the leader of the group, and the silent servant who offered them clothes had stood next to him. Everyone now was on the same ground level.

“Let us try this again. I am Lord Diavolo, and you are the current hosts at the Royal Academy of Diavolo. Also known as RAD...”

“I knew it! It's a cult!”

Noelle exaggerated, and ruffled her nappy hair as a couple chuckles echoed around them. Her reaction almost lightened the mood.

“Not quite. I am the soon to be Heir of Devildom. The more civilized section of Hell's Layers. Or what some Humans tend to call the Underworld.”

The girls shook their heads in confusion. And for a few seconds they both looked at each other. Unsure if the truth was being told, but if it was...

“Wait... You said RAD. Oh dear god no. We tossed those out! We never gave them back to that creepy old lady! SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW US!”

Noelle seemed to panic as more and more irrational thoughts spewed out. A hand was placed on her shoulder, and she shrunk under the large man's touch. She reached back for Bella, but Bella had already backed away, fear seeping into her face.

“Those papers you filled out were connected to the ones in my office. As you filled those out, it carved ink into the papers here was well. Infused with my own magic. We call it Bleeding Applications. The main goal of my academy is to get an understanding of humans, demons, and angels in order to one day have peace between the three realms.”

Relaxing, Noelle nodded and looked back at Bella. Silently telling her that it's okay to get closer. She frowned as Bella shook her head no and opted to sit on the slab instead.

“Why us? We thought it was just a joke. What if we lied on those papers?”

“Well did you?”

“... No...”

“Perfect! I'd like to personally welcome you to the program! That is... If you agree to stay...”

A discussion took place about the new house they just bought, and their new lives they would miss out on. The teal haired servant that had guided the girls earlier was known as Barbatos. He was given the job to see that the newly acquired house would be taken care of as needed, and their payment would be completely paid off if they agreed to the program, and succeeded in staying. “But in hell?” Thought Noelle. “That's close to a death wish”. And as if her mind was read, they were introduced to the seven men who have been secretly judging them this whole time.

As the introductions went along it was revealed they were not just demons, or the school's council members, but they were all brothers. Lucifer. The eldest, who seemed to be the most put together, was the Avatar of Pride. Red eyes, and neatly kept black hair giving him a devilish charm, but an arrogant one as well. Mammon. The Second born who had made the most noise and laughter, and was obviously looking down on the girls. White hair, and unnatural blue eyes said trust, but he was the Avatar of greed. One to watch out for. The third born seemed bored of the whole situation, and would look away when either girl made eye contact. Dark lilac hair, with shiny orange eyes; the avatar of Envy. That was Leviathan. Fourth born, Satan, had given both the girls unwanted shivers as he was the Avatar of Wrath. The blonde hair and greenish blue eyes were comforting, but told them to run and hide. The fourth born, Asmodeus, was drilling holes into the girls with his own set of orange lush eyes. The mention of Lust made them both frown and slightly cringe as a quick wink was sent their way. Sandy hair was swept to the side flamboyantly. The last two were a set of twins. A redhead and a black haired male who's bangs were dyed white, and they shared purple eyes. Neither seemingly bored, or interested in the meeting. They were Beelzebub; Avatar of Gluttony, and Belphegor; Avatar of Sloth.

A bell rang out as soon as introductions were done, and everyone but the first born (Lucifer) had left. Stomachs growled and the girls looked around, avoiding his stare. Becoming impatient he walked by them. Nose in the air, and not bothering to even look at them.

“If you decide to follow me, I am heading to the cafeteria where we will give you a list of things you may want to avoid eating while you stay here. That is, if you have the gall to...”

Gulping they followed. The Cafeteria was empty, and it was no surprise to any of the demon brothers. As their food was handed to them, they both grimaced at the purple sludge consistency in front of them. They were soon forced to eat it, especially if they planned on eating any other foods that may contain poison. As much of the food in Devildom seemed to consist of. Soon after their crash course the girls were left to their own devices, and did their best to talk amongst themselves. Their decision to stay or leave weighed heavy.

Upon agreeing to stay, Lucifer seemed rather pleased with the news. The first genuine smile the girls had seen from him. It was then their task to talk with the brothers and decide who they chose as a tutor, who would also act as a guide.

Bella had immediately followed Noelle, and they first talked to the youngest, thinking that they would be the easiest to get along with. While they were not wrong about it, Bella seemed to relax more with the Sins of Gluttony, and Sloth. It became apparent that it was a two for one deal, and Noelle had stepped back to visually analyze her choices. By which she just looked at the remaining choices and their current activity. Satan and Asmodeus was almost an immediate no go. She feared she'd anger the wrath god, or be seduced. Neither of those were a good thing for her, or her mental health. Then her eyes laid upon Leviathan. The name stuck from TV shows she's watched in the past. Furthermore she couldn't help but recognize the hand held device in his hands.

Walking up to him with a bit more confidence, she sat beside him, and watched him for a few seconds. She recognized the sounds of Mario Kart being played. Perking up she waited for him to be seemingly done with his race.

“You know, I'm kind of a fan of racing games.”

Leviathan had rolled his eyes and gave her a frowning glare. It was obvious he didn't want to be bothered at this time. But before the conversation could continue, the bell rang, and Lucifer arose from his seat, his brother's watching him for instructions.

“I'm glad to see that you two have finally made your decision on your tour guides, and over all protectors-”

Noelle heard a quiet protest come from Leviathan, which was quickly shut down by Lucifer's glare.

“-Though they are now assigned to be your guides, this does not mean you must befriend them, or be attached at the hip. They have duties and hobbies of their own, and I expect you both respect that. Feel free to reach out to any of the brothers with questions. Now with that being said, you may head back to the council room, and collect your personal belongings, and devices.”

The bell had rung, but an eternity set in as Lucifer explained to them on how they were to settle in. Eventually they had collected a few bags of personal items, and enough clothes to get through the week. On top of that, they were given an allowance for other necessities, and any other luxuries they desired. It also turned out that the demons Bella and Noelle had been assigned were also key to their class schedule. Bella's classes consisted of study halls, history classes, along with a gym class. The final class earning a shared groan between Belphegor and Bella.

Noelle had a small bit of luck with more hands on classes such as dark arts, an actual art class, and potions. Though the tour between classes with Levi as her guide consisted more of him complaining about some 'Normie' having to follow him around. Noelle made mental notes of some complaints as to not make him mad.

The tours finally came to an end, and they were led to the House of Lamentation. A large Mansion where the Brothers lived, and where the Girls would be hosted for the school year. Dinner had passed by and soon the girls were brought to their rooms.

They hardly had time to admire the Gothic design of the home, as the girls split ways at the top of the stairs. Bella had taken a spare room closest to them, but Noelle had made her way down the hall. Leviathan had made a comment about how he's literally two doors across the hall from her room. He wasn't the nicest it seemed, as more insults of having to 'babysit' was made. An even bigger groan was made as he opened the door. It was a rather large storage room, that apparently Mammon was supposed to clean out before any new students arrived.

Arrangements were quickly made, and it seemed like Noelle would be staying in the living room until the storage space was cleared out. The darkness surrounded Noelle as Leviathan had left her alone rather quickly to go read Manga. Even though Noelle had expressed her fondness about the Japanese comics, it reached deaf ears, but was still greeted with a small 'whatever'. The night washed out the remaining lights. And Sleep was surprisingly attainable.

#obey me: human and demon hearts #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor

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