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#fic: i ruined our sweet tune
liminalpebble · 5 months
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If you’re up for something fluffy and/or lighthearted fun - like a month ago I gave another writer I’m following this idea but she‘s been gone since then and I would still love it 🥺
I was in the mood for a Lokitty Fic because it’s been a while and for whatever reason I’min the mood:D If it’s gonna be more fluffy, funny or even angsty is up to you 🫶
Basic idea was Loki disguised as a cat 🐈‍⬛ has been hiding from something/someone in our home. Without him realizing until he’s already in too deep, he starts to fall for us and the way we care for him. Not part of his plan. He hadn’t intended to reveal his identity and surely couldn’t do it now after basically misleading us the whole time.
But what’s been escaping him since as well - we absolutely know. 🤭
A/N: Hey friend! Thanks for this very sweet and fluffy prompt. I accidentally seemed to have made it a multiparter and I have no idea where this is going except definitely to fluff town, and the comfort district. I guess stay tuned? WTF am I even doing??
Much love,
Peb
--
Stray: Part 1
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The rain was tumbling down in heavy sheets as you made your way from the train to your apartment. By now you'd just about memorized how many steps were left from the soaked platform to your door.
The thought depressed you a little, realizing how long you've felt stuck in this life; just another shop girl in the city, a uniform and an apron with a tired person behind it. As the cold water continued to hit you, you were glad to realize the number of steps to the lobby door was finally reaching single digits and picked up your pace in one last jolt of momentum.
Then you heard it; an almost imperceptible mewling under the incessant drumming of the storm. You turned, following the faint noise until you reached the alley and the giant dumpsters housed there. The stench was awful. You held your soaked apron over your nose as you peaked into the crevice. Two of the biggest, most beautiful, aquamarine eyes stared back at you from a void of soaked black fur. It was a cat, and it was absolutely screaming now, realizing it had someone's attention.
It's not like you'd never seen an alley cat before. There were swarms of them around, but there was just something about this one, something so desperately in need of love. The little guy seemed almost confused to be in this position whereas the other strays seemed to resign themselves to their shitty fate.
You braced yourself; tried to talk yourself out of what you knew you were about to do and had never ever done before. It would be incredibly stupid. You weren't even allowed to have pets. You didn't even know if he was sick and you would never have the money to take him to the vet. Regardless, you sighed and scooped the pathetic little creature up, swaddling him in your apron, as you hurried toward the front door. Huffing, you warned him, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”
-----
Loki was glad to finally be out of the rain and stench, even if it was in a less than ideal form. Several hours earlier he had landed with a crash, cushioned by the heaps of debris. He scoffed realizing his neat black suit and tie and the crisp white shirt were now utterly ruined. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found. The money; all that money that came with him as he dove out of the plane was now safely magicked away, at least.
He groaned pitifully. A fall like that coupled with a mid-air tussle with Thor was enough to floor the younger god, though he hated to admit it. And who was Thor to come after him anyway? This whole D.B. Cooper heist was his fault...all because of that idiotic bet. Loki probably would have laid there feeling very sorry for himself a good deal longer, but he heard the lonely patter of someone running toward him through the downpour. He had to admit he needed help, and it was time for some quick scheming to get it. Good thing this was always his forte.
He had barely accustomed himself to his new feline form and begun mewling loudly when he heard your footfalls slow and watched your shadow move down the alley.
Come on. He thought, imbuing it with the hint of an enchantment. Come find me, mortal.
Loki was incredibly pleased with himself and, frankly, a bit surprised that his ploy worked so easily. Such dull creatures, mortals...such soft hearts., he mused as he dozed in your arms. He was already barely conscious when he heard you quip, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”
Hey! Rude, he thought, attempting to give a menacing, insulted glare, but it only came out as a grimacing twitch of his whiskers and whining, grumpy, growl.
The human smiled a reluctant little grin and tussled his fur saying, “It's a good thing you're adorable.”
I'm not adorable! I am a god, you dull creature! , he screamed in his mind, but it only left his mouth as another pathetically cute whine.
---
In your bathroom you clipped your wet hair up one-handed and kept the little creature bundled against your chest. Once your hand was free you tested temperature of the bath with a wiggle of your fingers.
Satisfied, you said, “Alright friend,” holding the cat under his armpits and meeting his eyes, as if you could appeal to his sense of logic. “You stink. I have to give you a bath. You can either except your fate with dignity or you can be a little shit and claw my eyes out. I beg you to accept your fate.”
He thought to himself, Why wouldn't I want a bath? I love baths, you idiot. Now clean me, mortal. I tire of....
“Mrewwoooow!” he screamed as soon as his paw hit the warm water. He surprised you and himself as you both flinched violently. Apparently Loki was unable to resist his new feline aversion to water. Okay...okay...this is new. He mused.
“Okay....Christ! Listen here, you little shit! You can either deal with this while I scrub you down with some Herbal Essences, or you can smell like dumpster juice.”
“Meow”
“Yeah. I know...I know it's not the right thing for cats. I know I should take you to the vet first. I know this is not fucking ideal. I'm...I'm doing my best,” you said, with an unexpected hitch in your throat and slightly-welling eyes, as suddenly you both realized you weren't just talking about the bath anymore.
Loki felt an emotion he couldn't quite categorize; one he seldom felt, one others might call sympathy. So he fought his instinct with all his might and remained quiet and while you carefully washed and rinsed his fur. You smiled as your careful hands cleaned every last patch. “Thank you,” you said softly.
My pleasure, he thought, and meant it. It actually did feel very nice to be clean, and if felt even better when you dried him, and wrapped him in a warm towel in front of the space heater, with one bowl of water, and one of tuna. By the time you had showered and settled next to him on the floor in your pajamas, he already had a full belly and was drifting off again in the pleasant warmth. You sipped your tea and stroked his now very glossy and soft black fur.
“See! You're such a handsome boy now that you don't look and smell like wet trash bag. That wasn't so bad, was it?”
From where his head rested on his delicately crossed paws he lazily opened one stunning eye to glare at you menacingly, but it only made you chuckle.
As you laughed and smiled down at him, stroking his fur, he felt something else he couldn't quite name; gratitude, certainly, but also something else...something like wanting desperately to see you smile as much as possible...something like hoping that sorrow he saw a glimpse of before wouldn't eat you alive...something like just wanting you to be okay regardless of the benefit to himself.
The next time he half-awoke in the night, you were gone and the lights were out, though you had left the space-heater on for him. With his now-amplified hearing, he listened for you, anxious to know you were still there. Only once he heard the gentle undulation of your sleeping breath could he relax into dreams again and wonder what tomorrow would bring.
@mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @peachyjinx @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @mischiefmaker615 @coldnique @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85
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vitchimage · 1 year
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—You left a piece of you in me
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Summary; A late night talk where you give him the comfort and reassurance he needs before heading to a mission in the morning – you wait but he isn’t returning.
Pairing; Simon Riley (Ghost) x AFAB!reader
Type; Fic / One-shot
Theme; Slight fluff, angst, no happy endings (sorry!), Major character death
Warnings; slight mention of past abuse, character death, pregnancy
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“It’s getting late Simon..” You slowly stalked behind him as he sat in the balcony taking in the midnight air.
Wrapping your arms around him, he turns resting his head against your stomach where yours and his child is — unborn.
“Talk to me..” Your voice always sounded so sweet and comforting to him, it gave him a peace he never felt before in your presence. You were the calm to his storm. Always gentle and patient with him.
How did you even fall in love with him?
Your ring glowed to the moon with his initial carved into it. While his was around his neck, his dog tag – your initial carved into it. He didn’t want to rust or ruin the ring.
He loves you, he loves you — God it hurts but it feels so good.
“I’m scared,” he finally admits defeat to your gentle touches. Holding him, caressing his hair, the tone of your voice as you hum a tune.
You always win like this, how could he resist you?
“You’re not going to be like him,” you stated firmly. He hates how you understood with just one sentence.
Ever since you heard the news of your pregnancy, he was thrilled, happy even. But the roots of his past haunts him daily.
Just what if…
“You don’t know that, what if–“
“Simon, if you saw our child hurt, bruised, bleeding and crying, what would you feel?”
“Angry, rage, sad, scared…I would hunt down the bastard that did it and—“
He felt a kiss on his forehead,
“And there you have your answer. You’re not him Simon, you’re better. You’re you.”
He looks up at you, leaning to your small touches,“You’re going to be the greatest father I’ve ever seen.”
He lets out a shaky breath, for years together, you’ve taught him to take in words like this. It still needed some work, but it’s the progress that mattered.
“Ok…” he held you closer, “Yeah…you’re right.”
“I love you, I love you..” he mumbles repeatedly, “I will come home from the mission and…”
You kiss his lips,
“I’ll be waiting as always..”
He has to come home, for you, for his child. That’s what motivated him, gave him the strength.
And thus you spent the rest of the night in each other arms, not letting go as he whispered sweet nothing, smiling — taking in the warm and peaceful feeling till morning rise.
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If you had known, you would have told him to no go. To stay with you at home, using your pregnancy as a reason cause deep down you knew if you asked he would.
But you couldn’t take away something he also enjoyed, something that was a piece of him. You needed to believe he would come home like he always did.
But this time it was different.
Hours passed, a day or two. You told yourself; Maybe the mission is taking longer than you thought.
You hoped it was.
A gentle knock was on the door, you sat up from the couch, excited, your spirit high – like a moment ago you weren’t laying on the couch worried and crying, holding a pillow as comfort while you waited.
But it wasn’t him on the other end, no it was his superior.
Captain Price.
It could only mean one thing, you’ve seen it before in movies and…
“No..” you finally let out, your face brims of tears – horrified.
“NO!”
He opens his palms.
Simon’s dog tags and the ring with your initial carved into it, burn marks leaving its’ trace.
He wasn’t coming home; Simon Riley, your husband, your other half, wasn’t coming home. And your world was collapsing, your hand reaching your stomach.
What was a life without him in it?
He left you alone in this world with only one piece of him left within you.
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henkoukazue · 10 months
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FIVE SHELLS FOR YOU.
(means ILYSM)
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★ zhongchi, short fluff & angst drabble, wc; 365, one major character death, mlm, husbands, bittersweet ending, ...
a/n: y'all have this first,, will do really post the fics i'm working on very soon promise😭😭 (*there's also a kazuscara ver of this👀) still busy kdjhfcskdvfgf--- and also for better experience while reading this you can try listening to this song to add more feels hueheuheu.
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...
⇢ Sitting in a field of dandelions and forget-me-nots'. The radiant beam of someone was forever jumbled. Forever blurred in his mind. Zhongli cannot fathom how or even why he forgot his husband's delicate and impactful features that make anyone who laid eyes upon him flatter in awe, the same as him but different... It was pure adoration.
⇢ Now that he is visiting the grave, the pang in his chest and the churn in his stomach are not telling him good news. But he still continued to go.
⇢ "...Hi, my love," he smiled. "I brought you some shells that I picked up last week." Zhongli choked on his suppressed-almost-about-to-cry voice. "It kind of reminded me of your blue-ocean-like eye color... and also you, so... here." He placed five of them shells in his husband's tomb.
⇢ Zhongli sat there in peace and quiet, relishing the tantalizing serenity of the fresh breeze stroking across his soft golden-brown locks and cheeks. Zhongli drowns in his reminiscences of his beloved, his other half, as if his late husband, Childe, no, Ajax, whom he adheres to, is still there, giving him a back-embrace and humming a sweet tune in his ears.
⇢ And now, bitterness was seeping into his system. Remembering now the days they've spent together; when he was still there... those memories with him, that he treasured oh so dearly.
⇢ Zhongli, now crying in his lonesomeness and grief, spoke, "I'm sorry, so sorry, my love. I didn't mean to ruin our lovely mood today, hehe." He tried to wipe his tears away, but they just kept on flowing.
⇢ "Dear, I know this is quite late of me to say but, these five shells that I was and always gave you means... I love you so much, and not only that, I adore you just like how you adore my smile—that you keep on telling me it's pretty." Zhongli hesitated a bit but urged himself to speak again, "I adore and love you as a whole, just the way you are being true to yourself and not hesitating to any hardships, that's what makes me love you more... Ajax, my sun." He then bawled his tear stained eyes again painfully.
FIN.
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s/n: sorry for the grammars if you ever see any errors my dear cinnamons TvT)~
©️henkoukazue DON’T PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.  exclusively only to read on Tumblr. thank you.
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mysterymissteary · 8 months
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Wedding Hells
Snapshots of Twin Stars au | future ph!bkdk | wedding fic | side seroroki and shinkami | long fic
Bkdk just wants to get married. Villians crash their wedding.
"This is Hanso Fujihiko coming to you LIVE at the televised wedding ceremony of Japan's beloved Wonder Duo, Dynamight, the Explosion Hero, and Deku, the Hero of Hope! If you haven't been living under a rock for the last five years, the Wonder Duo is the hottest celebrity couple in Japan! Winning hearts with their heroic deeds and clever marketing. They never seem to do anything apart and we are eating it up! And after many years of climbing the charts side by side, our beloved heroic pair is finally tying the knot!"
As the reporter continued his script, the wedding party was scurrying around to make sure everything was perfect. Izuku and Katsuki have been through so much, their friends and fellow pro heroes would be damned if they didn't deserve a perfect wedding day.
"Is Midoriya getting dressed still?" Todoroki asked. To anyone outside their group, Todoroki's facial expressions and tone seemed unchanging. But a trained ear, and close friends who knew him, could tell that anxiety was starting to get to him.
"Chill, Roki, baby. Everything's going according to plan. The flowers are perfect, Jirou's got the tunes, Mic sensei is gonna take care of the speeches and keep the mood hyped. And Kiri and Mina are getting the grooms all snazzy. Relax, gorgeous." Sero lazily slings his arm around Shoto's shoulders. Ever since third year, Sero and Shoto have been an item. Both of them were awkward at first, being as Shoto has never had anyone show interest in him and Sero's never dated a boy before. But they're still going strong, filling out the parts the other lacks.
Shoto gives a determined nod and tries to calm himself. "Thank you, Hanta. Everything is going to be fine." His boyfriend kisses his cheek before patting his back and going off to help Sato and Koda with the catering. He didn't cook anything but he sure can help taste it.
In Bakugou's suite, he was seconds from blasting this stupid suit and his stupid rock faced best friend off the face of this planet. "I'm not wearin' no stupid fucking cufflinks!" Kirishima was trying to wrestle them onto Bakugous sleeves without either using their quirks. Since that would ruin the suits and they don't have time to pick up another.
"Come ON, Katsuki! It's tradition! You wanna look nice for Mido right?"
"The shit nerd loves me just fine no matter what I wear!" What was supposed to be a threat turned out sounding much more endearing. It was enough to make Kirishima pause and then smile knowingly.
"Aw, Kats~ I'm gonna stop with the cufflinks but I am SO telling Mina how romantic you are~" Immediately he pulls out his phone. Katsuki rages, yelling as he tries to crush it. Making Kirishima laugh. It's a good thing his phone case is as unbreakable as he is.
Ping! Mina squeaks and giggles as she reads her messages. "Mido! Your man is being totally adorbs~ Kiri tells me he's in there angrily professing his love."
Izuku, who was previously pacing in front of a full length mirror, pauses to look at her. He flushes with a light chuckle. "As Kacchan does with everything. Aggressive but somehow also sweet." He seems to frown at a sudden thought. "Kacchan probably is going to look amazing. Stunning. As he always is. What if... What if I look boring next to him?" Maybe inviting the media to his wedding in exchange for the profits being donated to charities supporting homeless queer kids and heteromorphic rights organizations wasn't such a good idea. Yes it's to a good cause. And Izuku is so glad he made that ultimatum to the news network currently surrounding their venue. But... It's costing Izuku his sanity. And worst of all, he can't see his beloved Kacchan until the ceremony starts. He's getting nervous just being away from him.
Ever since they were children, they've been in each other's lives. Grew up in the same neighborhood, had the same classes, even when Katsuki wasn't the kindest to him, they were always within arms reach. Never had they spent a long period of time away from each other.
Until the war. Until his Kacchan was stolen from him. Until they fought death itself to keep the other alive. Now they can't stand even one day apart.
Mina rolls her eyes with an amused grin. "Mido... Honey.. you don't honestly think you're boring, do you? You've got a rockin' bod, and those cute freckles. Those doe eyes. You've really filled out since first year. You're a total babe." Izuku has changed a lot. He's only grown a couple inches since high school, but he's broad now. Slightly darker tan, thighs and an ass that could quite literally crush a man's head, and his hair is more well managed now. He keeps it short on the sides and curly on top. Katsuki has been sporting an undercut these days and he's far taller. Built like a house too. But as always, he's so gorgeous. Kacchan has always been so pretty. Even now, with his face scarred from the war. Especially now. Izuku finds his scars very sexy.
The door softly opens and Izuku's gaze snaps to it, hoping it's his Kacchan.
Uraraka shyly smiles. Like she knows exactly what he was thinking. "Sorry, Deku. It's only me."
Izuku suddenly looks embarrassed. But he opens his arms to accept her in a warm hug. "You're exactly what I need. You look beautiful, as always." The two good friends giggle and greet each other.
"Ya know, what I said in second year, about kicking his butt if he ever hurts you still stands." Ochaco pokes Izukus chest.
"I'll kick his butt myself, don't worry." Izuku gives a light chuckle. He and Ochaco dated for a short time in first year. Then they realized with a war going on and their feelings changing, that it was better for them to just be friends. Ochaco also has a close relationship with Bakugou, as they're gym buddies. So she's aware he'd never harm Izuku ever again. But still. It's her job as best friend to hand out threats.
When she really wants to rile the explosion hero up, she'd just brag about being Izukus first kiss. And his first date. Nothing gets Bakugous blood pumping and his muscles straining like furious pushups after being told his future husband kissed someone other than him.
"How are you holding up, Deku?" Ochaco asks while rubbing his arm softly.
Mina nods. "It's not too late to tell the vultures to back off."
"It's okay. I did make them a deal. And it's going to be helping a lot of people. I can deal with this one day. Because..." Izuku's voice starts to sound watery. "..b-because after today... I'm gonna be married to Kacchan." He sniffles as he chuckles. Mina comes over with a soft face cloth so his makeup doesn't run too much.
"Zuku, those better be happy tears. I didn't spend all that time curling your hair and dolling you up for you to wash it away with anything but happy tears." Mina scolded, but fondly smiles as she wipes his eyes.
"Happy tears... Very happy. I'm so blessed. All my friends, my mom, my senseis, and today I get to marry the love of my life. I'm very happy." Izuku smiles with such soft eyes.
Ping! Kirishima plops down, out of breath from his wrestling match with Bakugou, both having given up since they were evenly matched without quirks. They're both quite broad and muscular. With Katsuki being slightly shorter.
"Mina says Mido is crying about marrying the love of his life. He's just as whipped as you." Eijirou laughs. Katsuki straightens his tie in the mirror, scowling slightly.
But his voice is soft and full of affection. "Nerd always cries. But at least this time it's not for some stupid reason." Katsuki feels his own eyes sting but he shakes it off. He can't cry today. The nerd has cried enough for both of them. "Eij... I'm getting fucking married." He shakes his head like he doesn't quite believe it. After everything he's done, he doesn't think he deserves something as precious as this. Someone as amazing as Izuku. If Izuku knew he thought like this, the nerd would argue with him that he's made up for his past and that no matter what, they will always have each other.
Kirishima knows his best friend enough to know the meaning behind his words, no matter how hidden they are. He stands, going over to Katsuki and wraps him in a hug. He doesn't let Katsuki wiggle his way out of this one either. He holds him tight. "Kats.. whatever's going through your head, man.. it's just wedding jitters. Nerves. You and Mido will be great together. Ya know.. we always knew you two would be here. We figured it would take a while due to both of you being stubborn as hell. But you did it. And in only half the time we'd bet it would take."
"The fuck you mean you bet on it?!" Katsuki pushes out of Kirishimas grasp. "You bet I would lose??"
"Kats, it's not losing. We just bet it would take the two of you about five more years to figure out you were nuts for each other." The red haired hero chuckles, brushing through his long hair. He had it in a lose ponytail for the ceremony. When he was on duty, it was usually styled up in the front but kept long so it fell down his back. It gave him a lion like appearance. But the real Eijirou was anything but. He was more of a giant puppy.
Katsuki growls, baring his teeth. "Same shit! Not being with the nerd is losing." Katsuki seemed to realize that time just how sappy he sounded because his eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink. But it was too late. Kirishima laughs at him, hands over his mouth in surprise.
"You're a goner, bro! I can't wait to tell Mido!"
"Not if I kill you!" Katsuki reels one hand back as if he was going to punch Kirishima but before he can, the door opens.
"Kacchan! Wow, you look like a bonified prince!" Of course it's Dunce Face. "Woah, did I interrupt something?"
"Kats was just telling me how he can't wait to be married and how in looove he is~" Kirishima dodges a punch in the chest.
"Fuck off! I didn't say any of that shit!"
Kaminari seems to be amused by this. He was never scared of their explosive friend's outburst like the rest of the group. He goes right up to Bakugou and pats his cheek, which Bakugou angrily smacks away, snarling. "You're always so shy, Suki~. It's totally okay to show much you care once in a while. We already know you're literally willing to die for Mido. Saying you love him isn't something to be shy about." Kaminari taps Katsuki's nose with his finger.
"I ain't shy! And stop touching me! Of course I love the nerd! But it's not as mushy as Shitty Hair says. I was jus' sayin' that I can't wait for this day to be over already. All this shitty press botherin' us. Izuku-" he stops himself from finishing. It's bad enough his cronies think he's some sap. If they knew he was so aggravated because he was knew his fiance had anxiety and the media would only further freak him out, they would never let him hear the end of it. "I don't need this shit right now. The longer I'm out of the field, the less villains I can destroy."
"This guy." Kaminari gently elbows Kirishima, both looking amused. "Always thinking about work. It's your wedding day, dude. Chill. There's plenty of heroes that can pick up the slack-"
"None as good as me and Deku."
"-While you get hitched. Wait- you're including Midoriya now~. You're right, Kiri. He is whipped."
Bakugou's face burns, but he turns away so he doesn't blast his designer suit. A wedding gift from his parents. All of the parties outfits were specially designed for each person, fitting their personal style, color motifs and body type. Even Shoji and his many appendages. Which Shoji was over the moon about. He's never had someone actually care that much to design something for him.
"Enough outta you extras. Pikadork, didn't you bring that...freaky one? He's with Izuku, yeah?"
"He's not freaky. He's my date. And yes, Toshi is on his way to Mido's room. You've known Hitoshi since first year. Yet you still don't know his name?"
"I don't care enough to know any of your names." An absolute lie. Which Kaminari absolutely doesn't buy.
"There you go with that shy thing again. You know our names~."
Then Kirishima, the bastard, decides to betray Katsuki. "He called me Eij before you got here, Denks."
Chaos erupts.
"Shinsou! Deku, Shinsou's here!" Uraraka opens the door to reveal a shyly smiling indigo haired hero. Like mostly everyone else, Hitoshi has grown quite a bit. And that included height.
Izuku smiles wide, greeting his good friend with a hug. "Hitoshi! I'm so glad you could make it. I thought for sure you'd be on patrol all week."
"I requested a night off. Turns out the big wigs are willing to do anything for Japan's number one, and any friends he has." He jokes. Izuku chuckles, but then he's sporting a mischievous looking grin.
"I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that Kaminari asked you to go with him." Shinsou looks away with a slight cough and Izuku knows he's won. "I think you two would be good together. He really likes you."
"He's like that with all his friends."
Mina gaffaws as she types away on her phone, checking in on the preparations. "He doesn't look at us like he does you. Denki is totally into you. Ask him on a real date already. God, this is third year Blasty and Midoriya all over again. Is it a thing with you guys that none of you realize someone is into you?"
Izuku and Shinsou both look somewhere between embarrassed and undignified. "Kacchan and I weren't that bad..." Apparently that's not the right thing to say, because the entire room erupts into snorts of laughter.
In the Bakugou suite, an alarm on Katsuki's phone goes off. Then Denki's and Eijirou's simultaneously. They all share a look of determination. The ceremony was starting.
"Go to your seats. Keep the hag out, and don't get up to any bullshit. I fucking mean it." He points to the both of them. "This day is going to go fucking perfect even if it kills me. Now get out, chucklefucks." Denki and Kirishima give mock salutes as they rush out. It seems just in time too, as they catch Mitsuki Bakugou on her way to Katsuki's room.
"Is my brat ready yet? I swear if he-"
"Mrs. Bakugou! Do you remember me? Kaminari. I'm friends with your son. Hey, why don't we catch up in the chapel, yeah?"
The two heroes lead Bakugou's mother down the hall and far away from Katsuki's room. She would only cause him more stress and no one needed a stressed out Dynamight.
With the wedding party gathering in the chapel, and everyone taking their seats, the atmosphere is starting to settle. This was finally happening. The camera crew turns to film the entrance as Yamada plays a romantic score on the piano. It seemed Mic's talents didn't just lie in electronic and hip hop beats. His husband and daughter look on proudly from their seats. Shinsou sneaks in to take his seat with his sister and guardian. When the school found out Shinsou lived in a foster home, Aizawa officially adopted him. Something about his potential and saving time. But everyone knows he loves the boy like his own son. He tries his best not to blush when Kaminari's pretty golden eyes follow him as he passes before resuming his conversation with Mrs Bakugou quietly. He's definitely gonna take Mina's advice and ask Denki out. Just not here. This was Izuku's special day.
The girls enter, glowing and beautiful, in pairs. Beautiful lace and delicate curls. Flowers of red and orange lovingly placed in their hands, vines of ivy falling from each bouquet. The two grooms favorite colors. The main flower of these bouquets were the ever beautiful and fiery Forever Susan Asiatic Lily.
Izuku once suggested red and green for their eye colors. Katsuki quickly shot it down with "I ain't having my wedding look like Christmas." So they went with their favorite colors. It ended up fitting them far more than their original choice. Which Katsuki will brag about on their honeymoon.
The next of the party to enter is the boys, Kirishima and Iida leading. Kaminari had left the Bakugous at some point and was entering with the rest of Katsuki and Izuku's friends. Each one of them had a smaller Forever Susan Asiatic Lily in their jacket pocket, along with a green handkerchief. Each man, and Jirou, because she really hated wearing dresses, sported their signature color on their tie. Otherwise, their suits were identical in color. Similar designs, though each custom fit for each hero. With Jirou's being a more feminine cut.
After the wedding party was Katsuki's entrance. And an entrance it was. Katsuki, as always, looked gorgeous. With his ash blond hair styled to the side, revealing his very rarely seen forehead. Best Jeanist would be proud, if he could have made it. A lovely watch adorns his wrist, his nails painted black. His crimson red eyes lined with eyeliner and the slightest smokey eye. His skin was perfect like his mother's so he didn't need much to enhance his natural beauty.
His suit was fitted to his body in just the right ways. It was a burnt orange three piece, though Katsuki argued with his mother about wearing the tie and vest. He ended up wearing them today. Not for his mother. But for his Izuku. Today has to be perfect. That includes enduring choking nearly to death by a stupid tie. The tie and accents of the suit were a cream color. A handkerchief in his pocket, a silver grenade shaped pin on his lapel, and a thin and tiny chain pinned from one side of his shirt collar to the other, over the tie.
He walked with his hand in his pocket, but kept his back straight, as instructed by Best Jeanist, whom he'd very embarrassingly asked for advice weeks ago. He was aware he had a problem with his posture. But he never had a reason to give a fuck. Now he does. And that reason had the most beautiful, hope filled green eyes and freckles like constellations. Fuck he loves that dorky little nerd so much.
Katsuki takes his place at the center of the alter. Kirishima pats his shoulder with an encouraging smile. He leans over to whisper. "I've never seen you look that happy. Were you thinking about Izuku~?" He learns a light elbow to the side.
He would never admit it, but he doesn't remember ever being happier than he is now. Today he was going to marry Izuku, the boy who always reached out to him. The man who saved his life many times. The man he saved many times in return. The love of his life. And his absolute soulmate. He's sure of that. Only fate would be so cruel as to dangle such an amazing man in front of him, then make him spend a decade and a half being a complete fucking dumbass about it. After everything, the nerd is still by his side. So he has to be Katsuki's soulmate.
Once the music shifts to a bridal tune, the room grows quiet. The doors open once more. Inko holds Izuku's arm. He's looking down in shyness but that doesn't hide his beauty. A few gasps and 'aw's are heard as he looks up and straight at Katsuki. Only ever at Katsuki. And he has the softest, most hopelessly in love expression. Kirishima suddenly understands the look Katsuki had moments before. Because Izuku has the same expression.
Izuku's suit was much like Bakugou's, only viridian in color, and with a bow tie. Where Katsuki's shirt was white, Izuku's was black. Where his handkerchief was creme, Izuku's was red. Where Katsuki had a grenade shaped pin, Izuku had an All Might pin on his lapel. He insisted. Izuku, unlike Katsuki, could be talked into the cufflinks. Green gems. Honestly, a good look for Izuku. Damn, Katsuki couldn't be more proud he could call this man his husband. Or was about to
Suddenly, Izuku is standing in front of him, with his glassy, teary eyes and his stupidly adorable freckles. "Hi."
"Holy shit. -I mean, hey. Fuckin' hot."
Izuku giggles with a shy blush.
Inko takes her seat next to Mitsuki and Masaru, handkerchief up to her mouth as she stifles her tears. Her baby was getting married. And over all, he is the happiest she's ever seen him. Katsuki will be good to him, she just knows it. She wasn't sure when Izuku called her one day after graduation and told her Kacchan confessed his feelings. She remembers how the boy used to be with her son. She never expected Katsuki would ask to meet her over dinner. And she definitely didn't expect such a polite and nervous young man apologizing to her for how he treated her son and asking for her blessing to date Izuku.
She was in disbelief this was the Katsuki Bakugou that her son grew up with. The boy that bullied him. But the then 19 year old that asked for her permission and apologized was so different. And the now 24 year old looking at her baby boy like he was the only thing in the universe? She knew she would trust him to look after her Izuku.
"I wish you could have seen this, Toshinori." Inko sniffles. "Izuku looks so handsome."
Katsuki takes Izuku's hands in both of his, his thumbs tracing the old scars. Izuku looks up at him with a watery smile. He stands on his tip toes to give Katsuki a kiss. Only to be stopped by Katsuki's voice.
"Ah. That comes later, dork. We gotta say 'I Do' first."
Izuku blushes but nods in acceptance. "Sorry, Kacchan. Got excited." He looks to the officiant. "Hurry please." Izuku was never a rude man, but he can get impatient from time to time, especially when it concerns his Kacchan.
"Dearly Beloved.... We are gathered here today.." The ceremony was perfectly planned. Katsuki and Izuku would exchange vows, then rings, then kiss. Then a private reception at a secret location, away from the cameras. Just a group of former classmates and their families enjoying themselves, celebrating the love of two of their dearest friends.
But not everything goes as planned when you're a world renowned hero getting married to another world renowned hero. On national television. You think you're going to say your vows to the love of your life. But what you get is the chapels roof being blown apart.
Screaming erupts as Izuku curses himself for being so distracted. If he wasn't oogling Kacchan in his gorgeous suit, Danger Sense could have picked up on the attack before it happened.
Metal crumples in a sickening crunch as more of the ceiling peels away. The heros of the wedding party immediately lower themselves into defensive positions. Katsuki and Izuku included.
Several figures come into view. Lead by a larger figure, floating. The leader was dressed in a trench coat over some kind of black metal armor. They seemed to have some kind of metal manipulation quirk.
"Hope we're not late!" The leader bellows. "What a lovely wedding!" The foundation beams of the ceiling rise as the leader levitates. They twist and form spear like abominations of steel and bolts. "Too bad you're going to miss the honeymoon! Say goodbye to your heroes!" The spears come raining down in Izuku and Katsuki's direction.
"Fucking figures my wedding day will be crashed by extras!" Katsuki blasts one of the spears to pieces before it can hit Izuku. Izuku's fists flicker with the familiar green lightning of One For All.
Kirishima hardens his body, bursting through his suit. "We're not letting you ruin this!" He shields the couple from as much as he can with his hardened body. "Unbreakable!"
Aizawa wasn't prepared for a fight so he didn't bring his gear, due to this being a wedding event and honestly he didn't think any villains would be stupid enough to attack a room full of heroes. But he can still help his students with his fighting abilities, even if the war took one of his eyes. He had his family and his kids by his side.
Kaminari didn't have his gear either so fighting will be hard without hurting his friends. But he was still a human stun gun if he can touch one of them. But.. he had to get the civilians to safety. "Mr and Mrs Bakugou! Come with me. Everyone! You have to evacuate and let the heroes take care of it!"
"Good thinking, Kaminari!" Izuku praises as he catches a beam in midair using Float and his super strength. "Anyone with a defense quirk, escort the civilians to safety!"
"Zuku! Tell them to go to the reception!" Katsuki goes after one of the villains head on, yelling as he jumps to attack with a blast overhead. His mom is gonna bitch at him later for the suit being ruined.
"Good idea, Kacchan! Shoto, stabilize the ceiling!" Immediately Shoto nods and coats the ceiling in a thick sheet of ice, connecting that to his Heaven Piercing Ice Wall. That should hold. Sero comes rushing to his side and reinforces his wall of ice with tape. He'd pushed his sleeves up at some point. The couple smile softly at each other before focusing again on the battle.
Izuku uses Black Whip to hurl himself at the lead villian, at the same time Katsuki has the same idea, using his blasts to launch himself. Two minds acting as one. They both rear back to punch at the same time.
"Detroit Smash!"
"Burning Fist!"
They land their attacks into a wall of metal. The villain must have set it up in the last moment.
Sero, Kirishima, Aizawa and Uraraka take on the other villains.
Katsuki was pissed. How fucking DARE these nobody losers crash his wedding. Not even someone big name like Big Nose, or even Half and Half's burnt pile of disappointment of a brother. Hell, he'll take that smiling weirdo vandalist again. But no. He's gonna fight some magnetic loser and his cronies. At least it'll be quick. These chumps got nothing on the Wonder Duo.
Kaminari comes running back into the chapel. "Everyone's on the way to the venue!"
Hitoshi's eyes are immediately drawn to him. And the world seems so glow. He's messy, his hair is messed up, and his clothes are wrinkled. But to Hitoshi, he's never looked more beautiful. Kaminari's eyes meet his. And he gets an idea. "Izuku! Bakugou! Fall back!"
Katsuki blasts a clone one of the villains to pieces. "Hah!? I ain't a coward!"
"No, Kacchan.." Izuku lands back on the ground. "I think I know where he's going with this."
"Denki." Hitoshi calls out to Kaminari. "He controls metal." Kaminari's eyes widen. His fingers spark with excitement. This could work.
"I get it! Kats, stand back!" Katsuki growls, but lands back on the ground next to Izuku.
"Current Chain!" Kaminari's electricity shoots from his pointer finger, right at the nearest metal beam, then jumps to the next, until every piece of metal was charged with thousands of volts of electricity. Including the leader and his metal suit. The villian seizes from the sheer power of the shock, then falls, disappearing among the rubble. The remaining flunkies are tied up by their friends and teachers.
Izuku sighs in relief. His wedding is ruined. And his suit is destroyed. And his arm is injured from punching a solid metal wall. But his guests and his friends are safe. Everyone's safe. He gravitates toward Katsuki and leans on him. Katsuki is in a similar condition with a similar busted arm. But they're both safe. Katsuki wraps his uninjured arm around his future husband.
Aizawa eyes Hitoshi and nods in the direction of Kaminari. He knows his kid wants to go and talk to him. Hitoshis feelings for Kaminari are very obvious. And although he was sceptical at first, not wanting a second loud blond to deal with, his kid took after him too much. There are worse people Hitoshi could have feelings for.
Hitoshi's feet carry him to Kaminari, just as Kaminari is rushing to him.
"Hey, good j-" Kaminari throws his arms around Shinsou's 6 foot tall frame and plants a kiss right on his lips. Like the hyped up firecracker he is, he breathes life into Hitoshi's lungs. Hitoshi feels himself melting, holding Kaminari's waist.
Izuku gasps, then coos in adoration. Katsuki smirks, kissing the top of Izuku's head. "Told you, nerd."
Kaminari pulls away, suddenly aware that everyone, including Shinsou's parents, are watching them. He smiles nervously. "I shouldn't have done that. That was probably really embarrassing for you."
Hitoshi smiles softly, his forehead pressing against Kaminari's much shorter one. "Strangely, I'm okay with it." He looks to the happy couple. "I really wanted to wait until after your special day, Izuku."
"It was shit anyway." Katsuki smirks.
"Oh! We should check on our guests! Everyone's probably waiting." Izuku takes Katsuki's hand and squeezes.
Their remaining classmates that didn't help with evacuation hand off the restrained villains to the police. One by one, they give Katsuki and Izuku an apologetic pat on the back before filing out. Shinsou and Kaminari holding each other's pinkies with shy smiles.
"Mister Deku!" Eri, who was supposed to be evacuated with the other guests, meets them outside. "Mister Kacchan! You're hurt!" Eri was now 14. In her first year of UA. Class A and her family couldn't be prouder. She'd decided she was going to specialize in healing and support. "Let me help." She reaches her hands out for both of them, intending to use her quirk as she did with the guests.
"Eri, it's okay. You've helped more than enough today. We don't want you to overuse your quirk."
"Mister Deku, I can do it. I've been practicing. Papa, can I?" Like everything, she looks to Aizawa for answers. He assesses the situation, both trusting Eri could physically do it, but also as her father being nervous about her overusing her quirk. Yamada had gone with the kids to help evacuate, using his quirk to give instructions and directions to the reception venue. But if his husband were here, he'd encourage Eri to help however she can, because that's what a hero does.
"Go ahead. But take it slow. Midoriya, she's been doing well. She can do this."
Izuku nods. "Alright. It would suck pretty bad if I had to dance with my new husband with one arm." He smiles. Eri places her hand on both Katsuki's and Izuku's arms. There's a glow from her quirk, then it's over. Like their injuries never happened. Izuku smiles, flexing his fingers on his now healed hand. "Thank you, Eri. You're amazing. Let's go."
"Nerd. How are we gonna get everyone there? All the cars left."
Izuku frowns. "Shit. I didn't think of that.. Kacchan and I can get there with our quirks, but... I don't know." Tears start to form in Izuku's eyes. Here it comes. All the pressure is finally overflowing. Izuku is breaking down. Suddenly, he's sobbing, and Katsuki pulls him into an embrace. "I-I just...wanted to get...married." Katsuki shushes him in the most loving tone, gently petting his hair and holding him.
"It's okay, Izu... We don't need some big party."
"The... The money..."
"We'll figure something out, baby."
Their friends start to join in on the hug, Todoroki being the first. "Midoriya, we always find a way."
"Yeah, dude. We're Class A." Kirishima adds, hugging Izuku as well. Izuku is comforted knowing that so many people care about him. Kaminari, Shinsou, Sero, Eri, and in spirit, their whole class. All of them love him so much.
"I'm so blessed to have you all." He sniffles. "You're right. We'll find a way."
Aizawa's heart aches for his kids. But logically, there's not much he or Mic would do. None of them have transportation quirks. Or speed quirks. "You kids go ahead. With Bakugou's blasts and your jumps and Black Whip, you should be able to get to the beach."
"But... We'd be leaving you all here... Sensei, I want you all to be with me. But... I guess it doesn't matter now because the wedding is ruined." Izuku felt like crying again.
"Oi! Who said it's ruined? We're fucking Deku and Dynamight! We're getting married today if we have to officiate it ourselves. If it takes a bit longer to get there and be with our friends, that's nothin!"
"We'll do what we can, kid." Their former teacher smiles so softly, it's almost invisible.
"We certainly will, Mr Aizawa." Everyone in the room turns to the unnaturally cheerful voice. When did he get here? "Pardon me for the intrusion, but I saw you on the news and I was thinking you'd be quite upset about your wedding being interrupted. So as the former principal of our countries top heroes and a dear friend of the beloved late All Might, I've taken it upon myself to offer my aid."
Katsuki makes a 'tch' sound, but really, he's touched that their former teachers want to help. "You got a ride or what, furbag?"
"Kacchan! Have manners. Principal Nezu, we're so grateful for your help." Izuku smiles.
Nezu taps his cane on the ground. "Follow me, children. Your white horse awaits."
The group shuffle through the rubble to make it to the outside of the building. Theres three cars, all lined up and ready to be filled, drivers ready. Izuku could almost cry.
"And I have one more surprise for my number one and two students."
"I'm number one right?" Izuku smacks Katsuki's arm.
"Kacchan!" Then Izuku smiles mischievously. "you're not even number one on the charts."
"Oi! It's not too late to return the gifts, ya little shit."
"As I was saying, children. I've arranged an officiant to meet us at the venue." Izuku and Katsuki stares at their former principal in confusion and shock.
"Are you saying... We can still be married?" Izuku tries not to let too much hope show in his voice but due to his nature, it's impossible.
"Yes of course. I'm a bit of a romantic. Now go. You kids deserve happiness after all you've been through."
Izuku kneels down to hug Nezu, tears in his eyes. "Thank you, so much. I don't think we ever thanked you for doing so much to protect us."
"You don't need to thank me for doing my job." Nezu looks to Aizawa. "No matter how old you kids get, we will always be your teachers. Aizawa, you can take it from here. Eri, my dear, lovely job. You get stronger every day. I look forward to your debut." Eri gives him a bow and a grateful smile. Then the stoat like hero hobbles away.
"Alright, dweebs. Into the cars, now! Sensei, Squirt, Dunce Faces boytoy, you're with us! Stupid Hair, Half and Half and Tape Face, take the other car. Dunce Face stop giving me those eyes, you're not coming with us."
"Blasty-"
"Its my wedding-"
"Our wedding, Kacchan."
"Fine, nerd. OUR wedding. And I'm not gonna watch you two tongue each other. So for now, you're staying far away from him. You're in the third car with Cheeks and Raccoon Eyes."
Denki tips his head back with a groan. He grumbles that it's not fair that Sero and Todoroki get to share a car and they're a couple. But he reluctantly follows his classmates to the car. Everyone loads up and they're on their way.
Izuku is buzzing with excitement, waving his fists happily. He's gonna get married after all.
But then he notices. "Huh. This time of day, you'd think they'd be traffic. Or at least red lights."
Aizawa snorts. "I bet that old rodent has something to do with it. You two have always been his favorite."
Katsuki smirks, his arm around the back of Izuku's seat. "Don't act like we're not your favorites, teach."
"I don't have favorites. I care about all my students."
"Father..." Hitoshi gives him a look. "it's not logical to lie. We both know this class has wormed their way into your heart more than any other class."
Aizawa can't fight logic. Hitoshi is smiling, and so is Eri. And he definitely doesn't like the look on the problem children's faces. "Not a word."
When the cars arrive at the beach, a crowd is waiting for them. Their friends and families, the civilians they saved throughout their lives.
And most of all, they were met with a private party, on a long secluded beach very few even remember being there. The beach Izuku trained with All Might on, those many years ago. The beach Izuku cleaned top to bottom when no one else would. The beach Izuku took Katsuki for their first date and told him the story of how he met All Might. The beach Katsuki later proposed to Izuku at.
This beach was very special to the both of them. That's why they knew it had to be their secret reception venue. They had it decorated with flowers and lights, with tables set up with tons of food. Carpets made up a dance floor and a small stage was set up for music.
The centerpiece of the party wasn't some big dessert table, or ice sculpture, although Shoto did offer to provide one. It was far more special. Years ago, when they both broke through the top five, Katsuki and Izuku had the idea to install a tribute to Toshinori Yagi on the beach that meant so much to both of them.
See, the world already knew All Might. All around Japan was statues of his great, towering, muscular form, strong and unbreakable, with a blinding smile on his face. But hardly anyone cared about Toshinori Yagi. So Izuku designed the statue and Katsuki funded it. It was bronze, Toshinori sitting on a bench, with a filled bento open at his side, delicate rabbit printed cloth draped over the bento. His face old and weathered, but calm and at peace. He smiles with a warmth few saw on the heroes face. The plaque read "Toshinori Yagi: Father, teacher, and eternal hero."
When Izuku steps out of the car, he immediately goes to his mother, who of course, is emotional as always. "I'm okay, mom. It was nothing. Really, they were nobodies." Izuku laughs, trying to lean away from his mother's doting hands trying to clean the dirt from his face.
Mitsuki, was pretty much the opposite. She snatches Katsuki's ear. "You brat! First you avoid me all day, then you chase me out of the church."
"If you were there any longer, hag, you would have started burning!"
"You calling me a devil, brat!?"
"Honey... The kids have been through a lot today. Let's let Katsuki get to his wedding party." Masaru tries to pull his wife away.
Izuku manages to calm his mother down enough to escape her overbearing grasp. He finds his way to the statue at the center of the party. Just looking at it makes his heart ache. There's so much he should have done. But Yagi passed peacefully, of old age, surrounded by his many students and loved ones. Izuku and Katsuki held his hands as he took his last breath. His Wonder Duo was there, filling his heart with love until the end. Even so, Izuku wishes more than anything, he could go back to that day. That day Yagi offered him a bento and Izuku left him behind. He wishes he could-
Katsuki's kiss to his hair brings him out of his thoughts. "Whatever you're thinking, stop. He loved you, like his own blood, Izuku. You know that."
"I know, Kacchan. I know." He smiles, turning to look up at his love. "He's the only father I've ever known. I miss him so much."
"Me too, nerd."
"Bakugou? Midoriya?" An elegant voice calls. They turn to see Momo, holding two lovely jackets. Not the same as the ones Mitsuki designed for them, but theyre perfect. "I saw the condition of your suits, and I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty to make you fresh ones."
"Oh, Momo..." Izuku hugs her close. As an adult, he's gotten much more comfortable around pretty girls. Probably due to all of his female classmates being beautiful. He's had time to get used to the beauty that surrounded him. Although his favorite beauty was still sharp red eyes and battle scars on his face. "Thank you. So much."
Izuku accepted the jackets and helps Katsuki put his on. Katsuki, in turn, does the same. Izuku uses his handkerchief to clean Katsuki's cheek, right where his scar rests. Katsuki fixes Izuku's messy curls. They look at each other with such love. They way they take care of each other says more than words can ever say. Katsuki turns his head to press a kiss to Izuku's scarred palm.
"Let's get married, nerd." Izuku smiles.
Yamada has reunited with his husband and kids, never doubting them for one moment. After greeting them with hugs and fatherly fistbumps, Yamada takes the stage. "Alright, alright alright! Now that the grooms are here, we got a wedding to get on with! Now, please welcome our special guest and the man who's going to be officiating the marriage of our top heroes.... Best Jeanist!" A tall, denim clad figure steps onto the stage.
"Oh for fucks sake!" Katsuki's voice is distantly heard, followed by chuckling from the crowd. He thought he'd escaped the blond menace. Sure, he invited him to the wedding, but he was told he couldn't make it due to his Number Five hero duties. Now Katsuki has to deal with him.
And he's gonna be marrying him and the nerd. Izuku bumps his hip. "He's not that bad, Kacchan. And he's taking time off to fill in. I know you respect him. You even asked him to teach you to dance."
"How the fuck-"
"I have my sources, Kacchan. Don't worry about it. The point is, we're very grateful that he's here to help. Now... If I wait any longer to get married, I think I'll explode."
Yamada hands Best Jeanist the microphone. "Thank you, Present Mic. Can the grooms come to the stage?" Izuku is very excited to join Best Jeanist. Katsuki rolls his eyes, but follows his future husband. He's only doing this to marry the nerd. That's all.
Izuku stands in front of Katsuki, holding his hands, looking at him with those big, stupid green eyes he can never say no to. And the humiliation is worth it. Because he's gonna marry this dweeb.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..." The ceremony goes on without any more incident. The two exchange their vows to each other. They're given the rings, and kiss each other's hands as they place them on each other's fingers. They look into each other's eyes and whisper words of love.
"I hereby pronounce you wed. You may kiss." And kiss they did. Katsuki doesn't waste a moment in grabbing Izuku and spinning him in a passionate kiss. Cheers erupt around them. And the newly wed couple laugh.
Finally, as the sun sets, Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou, Deku and Dynamight are married.
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kalpasio · 1 year
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Heart of Stone, Heart of Fire
B is for Boredom
A Kalpas x Apathetic!Reader fic, Chapter 2 below!
Elysia told you very little about your fiery opponent, dodging questions in that way only she can. It wasn’t until you were assigned a mission with him that you got any information.
The job was a Cocoon operation involving you, Sakura, and Kalpas. As you had never been on a mission before, you were mostly shadowing, but it was still important to know your allies. Or at least that’s what your superior said while giving you both of their files, and likewise, handing them yours.
Sakura’s was long with the number of ops she had completed. Whole pages were redacted, but you were given a basic run-down of her strengths and weaknesses. Kalpas’ file was long for a different reason.
He had a record of getting in trouble, including the fight you two had in the gym near the end of the list. There was a large section that had been redacted, but you knew what it meant. He’d spent time in the Deep End. You knew because you had the same black bars covering a much larger portion of your file.
Honestly, Sakura wasn’t sure if Kalpas could read or not, but he certainly like doing it regardless. This meant she usually ended up reading any briefing documents herself and then relaying the information to him. Your file was short and sweet and she expected it to take a minute or two to read.
She was correct, for the most part. It took two minutes to get through everything, and most of that was scrolling past information she wasn’t privy to. You’d joined Fire Moth several months ago, a good fighter with promise. Tended to be excitable, and slightly reckless in battle, but your skill backed up every crazy decision you made, and you seemed like a perfect candidate for the Meta-Morph Surgery.
Everything after that was blacked out. You must’ve been sent to the Deep End right after your test, and for a very long time. More of your file was blocked than was visible, notes only returning when you were tested for the second time and cleared for field work. As soon as the words “Deep End” came out of Sakura’s mouth, she had Kalpas’ attention.
“Knowing how the first test went, either being down there calmed them down or…”
“Aponia,” he ground the name out through his teeth with venom reserved specifically for her. Sakura sighed, tuning out the yelling and flames that quickly filled the room. Resting her hand on her second sword, she thought to herself for a moment.
The discipline she had received had been helpful, it brought her peace of mind, yet few seemed to agree. Would you be of the same mind as her, or did you hold the same resentment her partner was so clearly showing?
The answer was neither.
“My discipline was necessary. A little…more potent than I had hoped, but it has allowed me to continue fighting Honkai. It was for the best.”
Sakura had tried to bring the topic up casually, but you had no understanding of subtlety and outright told her. You had been in the Deep End,, and you had received a discipline. Kalpas was grumbling and pacing the length of the dropship you were on. You sincerely hoped the plane was fire safe.
In a rather impressive feat, the ship landed safely, despite the never-ending muttering. The sight in front of you was depressing, though no one would know it, looking at your face. What had been a small town was now a small ruin. The suburbs of a city who’s name you didn’t even know, and every person who lived there had been corrupted. A small outbreak hadn’t been reported because the family didn’t want to turn in their daughter, and the whole town had suffered for it.
Sakura didn’t need to say anything. There was Honkai in front of you. You knew what to do.
Not even bothering to pull out your sword, you made your way to the center of the area you had been dropped in. Zombies met your first and fell without getting close to hurting you.
On the other side of town, you could hear Kalpas shouting, and even further away, Sakura’s blade slicing cleanly through the air. As you got closer and closer to the largest concentration of Honkai energy, the number of zombies dwindled, and the number of Psychic Honkai Beasts rose.
They filled a mall parking lot—how fitting for suburbia—and at the entrance to the mall stood their leader. Once the first beast spotted you, the others on the outskirts of the group were running your way as well. Fine by you. Rolling your shoulders, you pulled your blade and let them come to you.
One slash was enough to take out the first three. Blocking an attack with one arm, you turned as though to ram your elbow into the beast, but your sword extended past the end of your arm and its tip made contact well before you did. Still keeping a firm grip on the monster, you spun back around, then used your momentum to throw it into the next group of Honkai, effectively clearing out another seven.
You must’ve gone through another twenty before noticing Sakura watching you. Kalpas gave her away, his stomping catching your attention, though it didn’t distract you from the fight at all. Sakura held an arm out to stop him from interrupting you and he actually listened and watched you work. Once all the grunts had been cleared, he jumped in.
Instinctively, your mind told you to tense up when you heard him cackle, but no matter how loud that little voice was, you didn’t budge. He roared and you calmly sheathed your sword. Meteors fell and you walked between the rocks as though it were only rain. Some hit you and you walked away only slightly flushed from the heat.
When you got to Sakura, she was eyeing you openly; something you’d gotten rather used to. Her withering look should’ve nailed you to the ground, but your steps didn’t falter for a moment. Kalpas’ gaze joined hers in staring, until you were out of eyesight and back on the ship.
Sakura and Kalpas walked into the dropship a minute after you, both barely lasting a second before spouting questions at you. How were you unharmed, how many Honkai Beasts had you been fighting, Why had you just walked away, the list goes on.
Kalpas sounded like he wanted to kill you for not answering, but wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise. When you finally were given a chance to speak, your answers were give in a tone that made the reasons seme ordinary.
“I have an unbreakable shield, and—” More questions cut you off. The hell do you mean ‘unbreakable,’ and Where the hell is it? “And I fought around a hundred. I think. I am unsure—”
“Go back to the shield—”
“A hundred?”
Sakura and Kalpas talked over each other and you patiently waited for them to sort themselves out.
“Yes, a hundred. I believe. That is the rough estimate I saw before fighting.”
“And the shield?” Kalpas was growling in your face at this point, frustrated you still hadn’t elaborated on his question.
“It’s in my file,” you put a finger on the top of his mask and pushed the man out of your personal space. “My MANTIS ‘ability’ if you will.” You made air quotes with the fingers on one hand. “I am able to make a shield, though it only goes so far as my skin, we have yet to find a way to break it.”
Holding up one hand, a faint shimmer appeared around it. Sakura seemed content to observe—which she did intensely—Kalpas, however, was not. His hand came around yours, his nails digging into your palm as he tried to crush your fingers.
Letting out a sigh that was neither angry nor bored, and giving a look that was neither concerned nor happy, you kept your hand out. “I don’t think that is how most people hold hands.”
“I’m not holding your hand,” Kalpas squeezed your hand tighter, though it did absolutely nothing.
“I’m aware,” you moved your eyes to try and find anything to look at other than the mask that was pointed directly at your hand. “It was a joke.” Sakura actually snorted a little at this, before making a hasty exit to avoid the glare sent her way.
Completely unrelated: I was thinking about the timeline and I'm confused how Aponia is like "yeah the Herrscher of Corruption incident was pretty early on." but Sakura has a discipline and it doesn't have any issues, and like she's obviously had it for a while, it's not super new, and she doesn't have a ring from it as far as I'm aware. I just--my brain hurts so bad rn
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islaytonlost · 11 months
Text
What Have I Done? LB;MR Fic
First Part, Previous Part, Next Part
Disclamer: Alfendi isn't a representation of DID. Threatening people in the street isn't a good idea.
------- “Did I tell you I’ve been looking for our dad? Did I tell you that I’m adopted?”
“I know you’re adopted Katrielle, I was there,” Fendi smiles at his sister.
“Oh! Well, I didn’t remember I was only a baby after all, anyway I’m going to find him, I’m so close actually, there are these stones you see, and I’ve been working on this theory…”
Fendi tunes his sister out, preferring to let his mind wander.
You messed that up. What’s Lucy going to think? Oh god, he got arrested. Lucy’s never going to forgive us!” Al nags at he back of his mind. Fendi ignores him, so Al gets louder. Why did you do it! I’ve been trying so hard not to ruin this life and you let it go in one move! His head hurt now; Al was too close to him. A hand moves unwillingly to his face, he stops walking as a wave of pain overwhelms him.
“Alfendi?” Katrielle notices something’s up, “Alfendi?” she moves closer to him, “are you in pain? Do you need help?”
“It’s just a headache,” he mutters, “it’ll pass in a second. I get them sometimes I think it’s stress.” Al pushes forward. Somehow breaking through, past Fendi into control. His head hurt, so much.
“Oh…” Katrielle looks up at him, “I know what’ll make you feel better! We should get some sweets!” she drags him towards the sweet shop Hershel used to take them to. Well Katrielle too, Alfendi had always insisted on waiting outside, not wanting to hear their mind-numbing chatter about puzzles. Everyone else in his family seemed to be puzzle obsessed and sure, being a detective was a bit like being a puzzle solver, but he found it much less tiresome than the way his father presented them.
“I’m sure it’ll make me feel much better, we should get some for Flora too.”
“Why was Flora so upset?”
Al sighs, “I think she was just disappointed in me. I was very aggressive.”
“And violent. You used to threaten people a lot but never with actual knives.”
“I know, it’s like I’m going insane or something,” he laughed, dryly, Katrielle just looks confused, “no, I’m just really stressed. It sorts of all just came out at once. I’m sorry for worrying you, Katrielle.”
“It’s okay! I promise I’ve seen scarier; did I tell you about the haunted house case? I can’t tell you who it is exactly, but she dangled a sheet out her window!”
“That doesn’t sound very scary.”
“It wasn’t, not even the lightbulb eyes but everyone else was terrified. It was so cool though! And there were these wind-up dolls there too and Earnest was terrified.”
“Where is Earnest anyway?”
“Oh, he has a whole lot of deadlines, so he’s been too busy to work for me, his loss this case is the most complex one yet! Other than finding dad but that can come later. This needs all my attention.”
They arrive at the sweetshop, Katrielle points at a cake inside, “dad made up a puzzle about cake, do you want to hear it?”
“No!” Al says, a tad too loud, “you know what, I’m going to wait outside actually, just be quick, and get something for Flora.”
“Okay,” Katrielle pauses, “you’re not going to run off, are you?”
“I promise I won’t.” She hesitates, he couldn’t blame her. That promise had been given to them too many times, and broken too many times, “they’d have to drag me away, okay? And if they do I’ll scream.”
“Okay! Do you want anything?”
“Surprise me.”
“Okay!” she smiles, running in.
As soon as she was gone a familiar shade of green catches his eye, the jacket was nothing like the one he was used to but close. Lucy liked green.
“Hey there, traitor,” she smiles at him.
Al tries to talk but nothing seemed to come out, his heart stutters as his mouth goes dry. This wasn’t his Lucy, she’d killed Hilda, he needed to stop her before she hurt his family, but this was Lucy.
“You got my brother arrested I see. They won’t let him go you know. They want to know about me, any lead is good. Was taking my life not enough for you? You had to take my brother?”
“No, Lucy…”
“I see how it is, don’t worry. I get it. Well threaten mine and I’ll come after yours.”
“No! No Lucy I’m sorry I lost it. I lost my temper! I’m sorry, I never meant for him to get arrested, I just. I needed to know what stopped you from becoming my assistant.
“There ain’t a mystery room, you considered that one? There were nowhere for me to go. You inspired a generation an’ I never got in. I got tired for working for pricks like you. Who don’ think about other people’s feelings.”
“I’m sorry, Please Lucy, I just want to make this better, I don’t want to keep hurting you.”
“Too late. It’s my turn now, to hurt you to get in your way, to take everything from you an’ when I’m done maybe you’ll get it.”
“No! Lucy please, I made this mistake not them, not them. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Lucy leans in close, so close he could smell her, she smelt like Diane Makepeace’s perfume, “suffer. Mourn your lover, mourn everyone who comes after.”
“Hey!” Katrielle’s voice rings out. Lucy runs, Katrielle hot on her tail. Al just stands there stunned.
This is all your fault! Al yells at Fendi You said things would get better, you made it worse. I hate you!
Right, as if you fought me, as if you made any of this better! Fendi yells back, the headache comes back as Fendi fights for control. He manages to break through Al’s defences.
Katrielle barrels back, skidding to a stop in front of him, “why didn’t you scream?” she pants.
“She wasn’t dragging me away,” Fendi shrugs, then smiles, “she’s set this out like a case, the stakes are high, I could lose you, and Flora but all we need to do s catch her before she corners one of you!”
“That’s no problem!” Katrielle grins, just as exited as her brother. Unbothered about the death threats. She believed in her skill and her siblings’ skill.
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lossie92 · 2 years
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"if you think you will get many kudos and comments on a fic, usually the exact opposite will happen" > these do be the facts. Could I request for 17 and 18 of the asks?
Yeah, they are. Very unfortunate facts too imo 😩
And yes, ofc you can!
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17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
Oh boy. That's a tough one. For one, I have so many WIPs, which makes the choice difficult, but also I like to keep a sense of suspense in my stories, which means I don't exactly want to go into detail about a fic before it's fully posted. Don't want to ruin the surprise for y'all.
Because of that I will have to pass on sharing those juicy details about a current WIP. What I can do instead is talk about one of my posted fics and the universe it is set in with mentions of what you may expect from the sequels. 
That fic would be Lemon Meringue Pie in the Smitten verse.
When I was initially writing down ideas for that fic, it was just supposed to me a morning after the wedding night story with some spice, but then it grew on me. 
I started really thinking about Tobirama's thought process, the reasons behind his reactions, his childhood, the way he grew up, his relationship with his own sexuality and gender, and what I ended up with was this story of self-discovery and newfound joy.
Tobirama in that fic goes on one hell of a journey. He is initially confused about his reactions and feelings, because he was never allowed to think outside of the bounds of his conservative upbringing. In a way, this gradual unveiling of truths about himself and the world around him mirrors my own journey, which makes it somewhat personal.
I liked writing this ace spec Tobirama who is suddenly liberated - a Tobirama who is finally free from the rigorous rules and from the limitations of the Senju clan. And it was nice to write him happy too. His relationship with Madara in this AU is very soft and sweet, and playful. It is not without its issues, as the ending of the fic showed, because they both still have to do a lot of learning and what they do know about each other is just the beginning, but there is this sense of joy in the opportunity to find out more about someone you can see yourself caring about that I liked exploring.
In the sequel to this fic, Our Summer Butterflies, I'm planning to explore more of Tobirama's journey of self-discovery. In Lemon Meringue Pie he only just found out that what he is feeling is natural and perfectly alright, and it will take time before he can fully accept it.
Also, Tobirama in this AU is gender fluid and that will also come into play at some point. 
Another important aspect is the matter of Tobirama's trust. He had definitely learnt the hard way that he cannot trust just anyone (Butsuma taught him many lessons and all of them were painful) and he needs to find out for himself that he can trust Madara. Although he is willing to do it in some aspects already, he isn't ready to dive all in. I can tell you right now that Tobirama will be putting Madara through some tests to see if Madara is really trustworthy. 
I'm hoping to start posting Our Summer Butterflies in late Autumn, so stay tuned, I guess? 😅
18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.
I cheated a little and @wisiaden​ picked the passage for me, cause I swear I instantly forgot every scene I wrote the moment I read this question 🤦
Either way, this is a passage from Looking for Home aka my first published mdtb fic 😅
“When you married Anija... Um, that’s not it, not really. Sorry, I just... Um, when... Well, the anniversary. Your wedding anniversary. The first one. How did it...?” He breathed harshly through the nose, irritated at his inability to voice the question properly. “What I want to know is... Well, could you maybe, um, explain how does one celebrate such an occasion?”
If Mito was surprised, she didn’t show it. Her expression was calm and thoughtful instead, full of kindness.
“It is different for everyone, I think. There is no proper way to celebrate it that has been agreed upon if that’s what you mean.” She smiled at him and squeezed his arm once again, the gesture strangely reassuring. “It is kind of customary to spend time together if possible and some couples exchange gifts. But I know people who do neither. Treat it more or less like just another day, you know? It all really depends on you and how your relationship works.”
Tobirama mulled it over for a moment before responding. “So it doesn’t have to mean anything?”
“No.”
“What if it does... but only to one person?”
“Hmm, an fair point,” Mito said. “But I think only one person can celebrate too.”
“Wouldn’t that be strange?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s...” He bit his lip, a maelstrom of thoughts in his mind as he tried to put his meaning into words. “Marriage is supposed to be about partnership, right? Wouldn’t it be, well, counterproductive to do things like this alone?”
When I was planning this fic, I initially didn’t have a specific idea for a scene with Mito. I did know I wanted to involve her somehow in the story, because I like the idea of her being a sisterly figure for Tobirama, but the inspiration to write this scene didn’t strike until pretty late in the process.
What I ended up writing in the end is Mito and Tobirama discussing, in a way, what it means to be in a good relationship. Tobirama at this point in the story is lost and confused. He doesn’t yet understand why he is drawn to Madara or what his feelings for his husband are and he has no prior relationship experience to fall back on. Despite being so intelligent, he is struggling with this problem and it’s immensely frustrating for him. 
Mito is able to see it, of course. She also suspects the reason why Tobirama is so lost, but she is intent on letting Tobirama figure things out for himself. 
And he does, doesn’t he?
Even though Mito tells him it’s alright to spend the anniversary however he wants and to celebrate it in his own way, Tobirama is able to realise and admit outloud that it is not something he wants.  
He has the right idea of it too. 
Marriage is a partnership. You’re not meant to do things alone.
He also for the first time voices a fear he doesn’t yet fully acknowledge when he asks Mito what if something like an anniversary is only important to one person.
 In this moment he is really saying to her is “what if I love Madara, but he doesn’t love me back?” and Mito rushes to reassure him that his feelings are valid regardless of whether they are returned or not.
Overall, I like to think that this is a pretty simple scene that foreshadows and reveals a lot of things about mdtb’s relationship in this fic. It was pretty interesting to write it too, from what I remember.
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Weird Questions for Writers
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rodrikstark · 3 years
Text
i ruined our sweet tune
frank adler x f!reader (fluff)
summary: the last person you’d expect to see in florida is the hot professor from your undergrad philosophy class.
word count: 2.3k
warnings: mentions of suicide. gets vaguely steamy with a 7-8 year age gap, but reader is in grad school when this story actually takes place
a/n: no thoughts, just professor frank adler. (title from “rearview” by andra day)
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   Sitting in your secluded corner of the library on a Saturday morning, you hear the entrance to the wing squeak open, rapid little steps creaking the wooden floor, and a harshly whispered “Mary!” before a dull, booming thud shakes you out of your daze.
   Although slightly alarmed, you have no excuse to feel annoyed, especially since you have made almost no progress on your thesis in the last hour and a half. You frown and lean back in your chair to locate the source of the distraction. Two bookshelves down the aisle closest to you, a man and a small girl stand around a thick book that had unceremoniously fallen off the shelf. The man rests his hands on his hips, disgruntled, but he glances up when he notices you looking.
   His attention seems torn between you and the girl, who endeavors to seize the heavy book. He whispers, “Hi, I’m sorry, she’s—” 
   You blink. “A child.” Someone has brought a literal child into your university library.
   He appears irritated yet affectionate, plucking the—topology?—book from her. “Yes. A child who doesn’t listen to me,” he adds pointedly, rubbing at her blonde hair. His blue eyes linger on yours as he offers you a polite nod. “Sorry again. We’ll get out of here.”
   “Wait.” You blink twice, quickly rising to stand in front of your small wooden desk and cringing at the scraping sound of your chair echoing in the relative silence of the library. “Professor Adler?”
   He tucks the book under a tanned arm, giving you a funny look. “Been a long time since anyone’s called me that.” The girl frowns deeply at you, her tiny forehead scrunching. She grabs his big hand with both of hers and pulls.
   Apparently, you would recognize that deep voice and those bright blue eyes anywhere, even with his casual clothes, his confusing presence in Florida, and the fact that a child accompanies him. 
   “I took your class as an undergrad.” You laugh at yourself for remembering something from so years ago, and more than a thousand miles away. “Truth and Logic?”
   He nods slowly at you, a subtle smile softening his stern features. “Long time ago.”
   You scratch at a spot behind your right ear and mentally curse yourself for the action. It was a shy mannerism you had developed almost any time Professor Frank Adler’s gaze passed over your section of his lecture hall almost eight years ago, your freshman year of college, when you registered for a crowded 100-level philosophy course. 
   Hoping to get an easy A, as well as an eyeful of the purportedly hot, 26-year-old professor. 
   “Frank,” she whines, clearly using most of her strength to pull at him. “You told me you’d help me find that analysis book.”
   Distantly, a part of you questions why someone who looks like a second-grader would know anything about analysis, but Frank interrupts your thoughts. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.” 
   You tell him. With over two hundred people in his class, you wouldn’t expect him to recall your name. Annoyingly, your hand moves to that spot to scratch under your ear again.
   “Did you like my class?” he asks with a cheeky smirk.
   You hesitate, pretending to recall the deeper themes of philosophy when you really spent most lectures daydreaming of his gravelly voice and strong arms, maybe visiting his office hours just to have an excuse to talk to him. “It was fine,” you answer honestly. 
   “Do you wanna get a drink?” Mary pulls at his wrist, hard enough now that he stumbles noticeably as he watches you, waiting for an answer. “I haven’t talked to anyone from Boston in a while. I’d love to—” He shoots Mary a look, then turns his attention back to you. “Reminisce.”
   Your arms cross over your body. “Uh, sorry, I just did my undergrad there. I’m not from Boston.”
   He doesn’t miss a beat. “Still. I’d like to buy you a drink.”
   Mary spins completely now. She slings his arm over a shoulder and starts trying to stomp toward the door. He doesn’t budge, and you try to suppress a grin.
   “Um, okay.” Spinning quickly, you rip a corner from your notebook, scribbling your number with your pen. You shake your head for a second before turning, walking to Frank, and putting the thin slip in his palm. “Here.”
   He doesn’t relent to Mary’s march toward the door until he places the folded paper safely in his shirt pocket. Smirking, he says, “I’ll text you,” then finally follows her out. 
— — —
   You spent the few hours before you were supposed to get drinks with Frank procrastinating your thesis. First, you killed time by taking too long to get ready—shuffling through five different outfit choices. Then, you Googled your date. 
   It had taken just ten minutes of research to ascertain that Frank Adler left his assistant professorship at Boston University shortly after discovering that his sister, Diane, a world-renowned mathematician, had committed suicide.
   You immediately felt dread at the idea of seeing him, and debated sending a quick text to cancel. Your plan was to rely on your shared experiences at BU as conversation material, and clearly that could backfire.
   It takes a pregame drink and a dozen hype-up texts from your college friends to convince you not to cancel. 
   A great decision on your part, since it turns out to not be much of a date. A couple of drinks in a noisy place called Ferg’s, small talk about Florida weather and grad school and Mary, a dozen heated glances exchanged under the orange lighting of the bar—and then, barely an hour later, you’re kissing him, desperately, as he kicks his niece’s haphazardly scattered toys to clear a path for his couch.
   As he sits, his lips still on yours, he guides you down onto his lap, invitingly solid and warm. His breath, smelling a bit like beer, mixes with yours and makes you feel faint. 
   Distantly, you remember your roommates’ reactions when you showed them the picture of Professor Adler on BU’s website years ago. Holy shit. Maybe I am interested in philosophy.
   This isn’t even a good picture of him, you had replied. He’s even better up close.
   He’s so close. 
   You feel Frank moan into your mouth when you slide your hands into his hair, and you think you might die.
   ...died Friday night on what sources in Boston are calling a suicide. She is survived by her brother Frank and daughter Mary.
   He wraps a big, calloused palm around the back of your neck and holds your upper thigh with the other, his thumb moving across your skin, which is a thrilling development, and you whimper quietly when his hands start to squeeze and roam and compress your body to his, but you have to pull away. 
   “I’m sorry,” you whisper.
   “Too much?” he asks, breathless. You stare at his pink lips.
   You hesitate, because like any sane person, you could just kiss him and forget it. Shut up, and stop letting your mind run rampant and ruin this. “I’m sorry about your sister,” you clarify.
   Judging by his exasperated look, you kill the mood instantly. “Jesus,” he mutters, manhandling you off his lap until you’re awkwardly seated next to him, your legs bent over his thighs. His strength, in a different context, would probably be incredibly sexy. “You didn’t have to bring that up.” He pulls your knees to his chest as he slouches backwards.
   You consider your options, such as grabbing your purse and leaving, or letting the heat of your embarrassment evaporate you into nothingness. Hugging your thighs, you lean forward. “Why did you want to talk to someone from Boston?” you wonder aloud, mostly to yourself.
   “I don’t know,” he answers noncommittally. “Guess it was just an excuse to spend the night with a cute girl.”
   You dig your nails into your thighs to keep from itching behind your ear. Quietly, you admit, “I tried reading her proof. For the...?”
   “Navier-Stokes problem.”
   “Couldn’t understand a word of it.” You embrace your legs tighter, curling up further so you can hide from the serious look on his face. “She must have been really smart.” 
   He mumbles something in agreement, absentmindedly stroking your knees. It doesn’t seem like an affectionate gesture, just something to do with his hands. 
   “I’ll… I can go.” You move your legs to the floor, anxiously readjusting your shirt and yanking the ridden-up hem of your shorts down your thighs. 
   You’ve already pulled your bag onto your shoulder and stood up when he stops you. “No, c’mon. Stay. You’ve already knocked down one of my walls.” 
   You look at him, flustered as you realize the mess you’ve made of his hair when you tugged at it earlier, when he moaned into your skin. “What?” you ask, distracted by how the slight imperfection makes him even sexier.
   “My friend Roberta says that I put up walls,” he explains with a slight dismissive tone. Frank gestures for you to sit, so you gingerly place yourself on the other end of the couch, far enough that you’re not tempted to touch him. As much as you want to. “To protect myself.”
   “I think we all do that,” you comment softly.
   “Yeah?” He smirks. “What’s one of yours?”
   “I…” You stall, grabbing your purse and cradling it into your lap. “I’m procrastinating writing my master’s thesis.” Your lips curl into a brief and sad smile. “Part of the reason why I agreed to this date, I guess.”
   “It's not just ‘cause you think I’m cute?'' he asks, a vaguely playful tone in his voice. Then, Frank stands up. “You want some—?”
   “I’ve always—” you start to mumble simultaneously.
   You’ve certainly had too much to drink if you’re really about to say, I’ve always thought that you’re cute. 
   “Water?” he finishes, chuckling.
   You nod politely. As he leaves for his kitchen, he switches on the lights in his living room, removing the comforting, concealing darkness. You scan your surroundings, taking in the strange mix of math textbooks, kids’ toys, and power tools.
   The second he steps into the kitchen, you bury your rapidly warming face in your palms and release a silent scream. 
   He returns with two glasses, giving you one before continuing your conversation. “Doesn’t seem fair that you’re talking to me about my sister and all the dirt I have on you is that you’re procrastinating writing a paper.”
   “It’s an important paper.” You take a lengthy sip of water, attempting to collect your thoughts. “And, I wasn’t trying to dig up dirt, Frank. I was just… curious. You. Being here in Florida, with a kid.”
   “Uh-huh.” He narrows his eyes at Mary’s LEGO bricks on the floor, setting his glass on the coffee table and leaving the couch to sit next to the colorful pile. He starts to collect the pieces, depositing them in a nearby plastic bin.
   Such a strange sight, your former professor on his living room rug, cleaning up his niece’s toys. After watching him for a few moments, you join him, leaving your purse by the couch. You drop the LEGO bricks in the box, two at a time.
   A few moments pass. “I’ve heard that people procrastinate to avoid negative emotions,” he mentions idly. In his statement lies an unspoken question. What’s your baggage?
   “I mean, you’re an academic, aren’t you?” You hold a couple pieces in your hands, snapping them together, then prying them apart, over and over. “Worried that my career won’t go anywhere. Afraid of being in student debt for the rest of my life.” You toss the bricks into the pile. “And constantly thinking that I’m not good enough.”
   “I do know that feeling,” he murmurs. 
   You see the slightest smile, as he admires one of Mary’s colorful creations, turning it in his hands.
   It's a boat.
   He has a nice smile. You want to make it bigger, until it lights up his whole face, then see it a hundred more times.
   “You took a pretty stellar philosophy course as an undergrad, so I’m sure that laid a solid foundation for your future career,” he jokes.
   “I’ll include it in my resume,” you say as you start building a square tower, picking bricks back out of the bin instead of helping him put them away. “Took Truth and Logic with the great Professor Frank Adler of Boston University. And got a B.”
   “I only gave you a B?” he laughs. 
   “Yeah, you dick.” He reaches towards you, snapping a few bricks onto your tower. You frown and flick lightly at him, rearranging the pieces so they fit the color order you had established with the first few layers: red, green, blue.
   For a few minutes, you both sit in easy silence. Frank gathers bricks for you, so you can keep stacking and stacking. 
   After you snap on several layers, he mumbles, “I should take you on a real date.”
   “You wanna wine and dine me?” you scoff, smiling.
   “I do,” he says carefully.
   He gets up to move the coffee table to the far wall of the room, motioning you to sit with your back against the cushions so you’ll be comfortable. You keep making your structure taller, while Frank grabs some other pieces, starting a tower of his own.
   You shrug. “This is a pretty good first date if you ask me, Frank.”
— — —
masterlist
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voidmadisonrecs · 3 years
Text
chris evans recs
these are more for me then anyone else but here are my fav chris evans (and co.) fics, blurbs, headcanons, etc.
feel free to message or comment with suggestions that i should read and make sure to check out these writers other works because they are all amazing <3
Chris Evans
butterflies - @chanelfaerie
chris has got butterflies for you—do you feel the same?
pop the questions - @angelkurenai
you are costars and in a relationship with Chris and while on the set of ‘Gifted’, you are very clingy. when Chris sees you interact with your youngest costar, he realizes you would make a great mother
white - @agentofbarnes
chris can’t seem to function while seeing you in a white dress
ask me properly - @twittytelly
while spending time with his family, chris realizes that it's the perfect time to put his 'plan' into action
red carpet w/ chris - @avenging-fandoms
your chris’s costar with Chris and you’re both tipsy in a red carpet interview and giggling together, making no sense but just being all happy and sparking dating rumours
happy goddamn new year - @fluffymisha97
the morning after your new year with the evans’ which doesn’t go all that smooth
sweet creature - @buckyhoney
domestic shit
ass man headcanon - @agentofbarnes
chris evans sure does love ass
and then he came along - @teebarnes
you haven't had the best record when it comes to relationships, you thought you couldn't be loved. until one day as you sat on the beach shivering, everything changed when chris came along
granola bar and lots of love - @planetofawe
with the kids away, you and chris have more than enough time to practice some aftercare (smut)
claim - @cloudystevie
your husband puts a baby in you (smut)
beer gut - @violetlilysunshine
chris gets self conscious after gaining a little bit of weight and not working out as hard as he used to during his Marvel days (smut)
dumb - @agentofbarnes
chris evans makes you dumb and you are a little touchstarved (smut)
red, white, blue’s in the sky, summer’s in the air, baby heaven’s in your eyes - @cloudystevie
sunday’s are for football games and attention (smut)
the big 4-0 - @rocketrhap3000
chris being insecure for his 40th bday but reader makes sure he knows just how much she loves him (smut)
my girl - @punani
chris loves calling you his girl (smut)
the fluffer (masterlist) - @punani
it’s the 70′s and the erotic videos industry is experiencing another boom after the risen popularity in the previous decade. the studio’s are hot, gemini flanagan is a brand, and you’re a newly hired assistant at shaggin’ studios. chris takes a liking to you, altering your job description so that you get to work more closely with him. is this all just physical, or is there something more? (smut)
wedding shenanigans - @flowerbouquet
in which you and chris have a sneaky fuck in the bathroom during your best friends wedding (smut)
grocery run - @bucksfucks
innocently wearing chris’ shirt leads to you finding out just how much he can’t resist you (smut)
chain - @bucksfucks
chris tells you to bite down on his chain (smut)
home late (part 2) - @violetlilysunshine
smuttttttt
severance - @punani
the divorce process with chris is messy, seemingly never ending, and ultimately: heartbreaking. you had to be strong for your son, yourself, and eventually you wanted someone else to be strong for you, so, it seemed only natural that you would venture into the arms of another. however, sometimes the line between something officially ending or simply taking a break blurs when you’ve known someone for longer than you can remember (smut/baby fever/ex!reader)
so beautiful to me - @uprootbasic
despite being broken up and coparenting, chris still want to show you how much he loves you (smut/baby fever)
sundress season - @jurassicbarnes
in which all it takes is a pretty little dress to break his resolve (ex!reader/smut/baby fever)
mwah - @iguessweallcrazyithinktho
ur little bubba is obsessed with kissys and keeps leaning in to kiss you (baby fever)
long hair lover - @iguessweallcrazyithinktho
chris comes back from filming red sea diving resort and his baby daughter is crazy in love with his long hair (baby fever)
slobbery kisses - @iguessweallcrazyithinktho 
chris wakes up to sloppy kisses by his baby (baby fever)
baby rose - @fluffymisha97
reader and chris had a little baby girl. but not everything is going that well, you're both trying to navigate life as new parents (baby fever)
eve - @kiwisomething
you drop your son off with his father and he invites you in (baby fever/ex!chris)
parenting is hard blurb - @lokiscu
chris and the reader have just had a baby and the lack of sleep mixed with lack of physical affection and time they have with one another gets to both of them and they end up fighting because of the stress (baby fever)
isla - @uprootbasic
the reader is a famous singer and always sings to her little girl. one night, chris and the reader decides to have this little jamming session with their baby. chris plays the piano while the reader sings I wanna hold your hand by the Beatles (baby fever)
the neighbours lights - @lokiscu
it’s your first Christmas with a baby (baby fever)
paparazzi - @ozarkthedog
chris evans and reader are both famous and one day they are out with their daughter when paparazzi start to follow them (baby fever)
thunder - @worksby-d
your daughter is scared of the thunder (baby fever)
she’s the one - @worksby-d
chris x singlemom!reader masterlist (baby fever)
protective stepdad chris x single!reader - @worksby-d
masterlist (baby fever)
truth be told - @kthynes
chris finds out he has a 6 month old baby because his partner didn’t have the chance to tell him that she is pregnant because they broke up (angsty??/baby fever)
not her - @agentofbarnes
chris wants a family and you just aren’t ready yet, but that doesn’t mean he wants you any less (angsty?)
the love we have - @kthynes
the reader is chris's ex wife and she's about to be married again to a guy she doesn't really love. so in the night of her bachelorette party she's really drunk and she ended up going to his apartment and tell him that she still loves him and that she wants to hate him because he was the one who file for divorce but she can't, then she leaves. on the day of the ceremony their 10 year old kid tells Chris that he should go after her before is too late (angsty??)
Frank Adler
i ruined our sweet tune - @rodrikstark
the last person you’d expect to see in florida is the hot professor from your undergrad philosophy class 
buttons - @rodrikstark
buttoning franks shirt headcanon 
waffles - @amylillian22
the morning after their usual saturday date night, y/n runs into mary unexpectedly. frank wakes up to find them making waffles
remember - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why
breeding kink - @stargazingfangirl18
as the hot single dad everyone wants to get with, frank turns a few heads at back to school night, and well, you may get a little possessive (smut) 
magic demeanor - @bloodiedskirtts
after moving back to Florida in the middle of a heat wave, things seem to be getting worse and worse. the only thing to make her days any better is her neighbour, Frank. with neither of them willing to admit that they can’t get enough of each other, a pesky shower malfunction may be the only way for them to tell each other how they feel (smut)  
Ransom Drysdale
2:27 am - @cloudystevie
it’s 2:27 in the morning when ransom shows up at your doorstep, and he wishes he could tell you why 
cold (third part of his return) - @kiwisomething
hugh is cold sleeping on the couch by himself 
new man - @worksby-d
ransom loves to pretend he’s not whipped for you, but here he is letting you do your skin care routine on him
morning dew - @agentofbarnes
it was only supposed to be one night, but ransom can’t seem to get you out of his head (smut) 
Andy Barber
the proposal - @fairyevans
andy takes the reader on a gorgeous vacation but everything goes wrong except the proposal 
consequences - @stargazingfangirl18
life after your breakup with ransom (smut)
yes, mrs barber - @jurassicbarnes
in which you’re down on your knees, about to suck his dick within an inch of his life because it was the only way to shut him up (smut) 
697 notes · View notes
devildom-doll · 2 years
Text
A Night with Dark Mammon 🥀
xxx
A/N: So like, I had this done weeks ago and I was on the verge of editing it, but then Midterms happened and I had to put it aside, sorry for the wait ;-;. Hopefully, that’s a valid excuse for how tame I wrote this, or maybe it’s cuz I consider Mammon to be the least “Dark” among the brothers… eeehh, oh well, since he is our first boy, he gets a fic first :v
I’m open to requests after this, but be patient with me, I am a busy college student, I also got other stuff in the works so stay tuned, or not
~Dollie 🧸
xxx
Word Count: 1.8k words
Tags and Warnings: Female!MC x Dark!Mammon. Angst (edgy shit heh), noncon, dubcon, forced blowjob, face-slapping, biting, blood, degradation, spanking, nipple play, some other stuff probably~
TLDR: Mammon films your punishments and sells them off for a quick buck. It must be perfect in his eyes and even though he knows what he must do to please you, he enjoys toying with your uncontrollable human desires and emotions to make these sessions more “entertaining”.
Be Warned! You are About to read some Dark Content! Please be 18+, ty ty
xxx
There are certain rules you must know when taking punishments from the Great Mammon.
Beg for him if your mouth is empty. Prepare for the spreader bar if you’re being uncooperative. Cum when he orders you too. Call him Master. And a billion other rules you never knew before you broke them, making your punishment last for hours on end. After learning them from his prideful older brother, unleashing his sadistic desires was the backbone of every strike he made to you. He’ll log it all down on video and sell it off for profit like your his personal fuck toy to use whenever he pleases.
You’re Mammon’s cock sleeve, and no one else’s. He reminds you of that constantly; fingers gripping at the sides of your head clutching entangled hair, his length thrusting in and out of your throat as you try taking him in. Your tortured clit grinded against the vibrator he bought for you; thighs trembling as the intense pleasure mixed with the skullfucking pain.
“Don’t cum yet, you’ll be punished again if ya do,” Mammon’s needless taunting numbs your senses as he gives your tearful face a hard smack. You thought him using your pretty mouth was already such a dreadful punishment…
“Suck harder, ya cockslut, use your tongue!” He has a way with his lewd remarks, yet you’re surprised every time he corrupts your already broken mind with them. Your moaning reverberated a sudden warning already on the verge of cumming, so holding it in was an impossible request.
“Don’t cum…” He repeated, but it sure didn’t help that his quickened pace was what broke you. You tried, you really did try but your climax was too noticeable; your back arched as you withdrew Mammon’s cock to let out a ghastly moan. Your sweet slick spilled onto the floor and vibrator which could have been satisfying if not for Mammon’s disapproving glare striking you with fear.
“Aaah, I’m sorry… I’m really sorry…” You hoped your begging would hint at some mercy but you already knew too well he wasn’t going to give it. He peered down at you having to witness his fuck-session be ruined by your early release.
“Hmph,” Mammon turned back to the video camera facing toward the both of you to pause the recording.
“Again MC, we cum at the same time! Got it?” His harsh demand brought you to tears knowing any sign of exhaustion would only mean more sex-crazed torture.
“Yes, Master…” You nod and began preparing your body for the next round of punishments.
“Hm? Why you cryin’, MC?” He walked back toward you and held your head up by your chin, “Tell me why.”
It all felt like a well-planned trick of his, but your sobbing didn’t hinder your honesty.
“I’m tired, I don’t feel like I have any left in me…” You glanced down at your crotch and the drenched vibrator. Mammon does the same but it was more like admiration that your sweet juices spilled because of him. He stared into your teary eyes and scoffed.
“MC, you’re such a whore, and a pretty liar too.” He sent another hand to smack your wet face and grabbed ahold of your wrists, marking them red as he pulled you over to the bed.
“Lay down, bitch!” he ordered before throwing himself on top of you, forcing your squirming body to submit.
Your chest pounded in anticipation of Mammon’s next harsh strike, but he just kept silent as your breath was the only sound that resonated in the room. He cupped your face softly as if he was going to lean in for a soft kiss… Your eyes closed, but you felt no kiss. Rising affection died as he twisted your head to the side and bit down on your neck; fangs sinking deep into your fragile skin.
Your body tenses as you let out a screech but didn’t resist his blood bite; it was yet another playful punishment that he enjoyed greatly. Through it, you found pleasure as your Master’s fangs kept biting down on your flesh, splitting it open to lick up the blood. Cold air grazed through your bloody opening making you quiver right before you felt his hardened cock rubbing up against your thigh, finding a warm opening to bury in.
“Master, I want your cock, please,” Those words escaped from your mouth and he shot a sinister, blood-covered grin at you.
“Good slave,” He leaned in to finally offer you a kiss and wound up tasting your metallic blood off his lips. Short-lived was the affection he planted on you, he grabbed you by the shoulder to turn you over on your stomach.
“Ah! Master?!”
“Hah? Scared, MC? Still scared after being my cock slave for so long?” Mammon sends his hands down to your ass to give it a good squeeze right before spanking it.
“Ass up, panicky slaves deserve a good railing,” He forcefully propped up your ass; purposefully admiring your tight holes still coated in spunk. He wasted no time and shoved his two fingers down your swollen cunt as you let out a loud moan.
“Didn’t even hafta lick ‘em, you're that wet from my punishments, huh?” His cackling echoes around the room, “Ah, so tight... lemme shove my cock in ya now,”
He gives your folds a slight spread after lubing them with your slick. The tip of his cock already slowly pushing inside you as your painful moans get louder.
“Yea, haaah, keep making your sweet sounds, everyone would love that,” he groped your breasts tightly for leverage as each inch reached deep inside you. Mammon fondled your breasts, pinching your sensitive nipples knowing that it makes you squeal in pain, all while he sucks down on your bloody gash. You thought his dick was deep enough each time, yet he manages to fit it all in with no problem. He always laughs at your naivete thinking you reached the end of his throbbing demon cock, and you completely forgot about the video camera he set up, but staring back at it made you realize something…
“The camera-“
“Ignore it, just moan for me,” he growled at your words and smacked your ass.
“Ahh! But it’s not- !!”
“MC! Focus!” Mammon held down on your hips quickening his pace forcing painful moans out your salivating mouth. He’d never gone that fast before, and you never felt so weak as your hole was forced open by your greedy Master’s cock.
“Ahhh! So fuckin’ warm, human pussy gets so tight!” Throughout the night, you became a throbbing mess being filled up by the Great Mammon’s seed. A greedy bastard he is, he fucked you senselessly for hours on end, and you could feel the last punishment of the day deep inside your tortured holes.
He laps up your bloody gash and finds more smooth skin to bite down on. He would only ever stop when you’ve gotten used to the temporary pain. Then he’d smack your ass nonstop until his handprints marked it red. When you got used to that, he pulled at your nipples to bring back your screaming. All of that while his demon cock thrusts in and out your tight walls. You entertain him greatly, he’ll fuck you until you can no longer take it, and you’ll lay there stunned at your deteriorating strength, and he’ll fuck while you in that state as well… You’re still awake to see it all happen, but why? If you’re just his disposable cock sleeve, why does he keep you captive under his embrace?
Has Mammon ever embraced a beautiful human or even disheveled one by his touch? You believed he has since he knows how to break one with pleasure... Being his first must be a lie, you thought. Constantly reminding you that each time these punishments end while seed gets caught on your face, breasts, and if you're lucky, it seeps into your holes like tonight.
You’re Mammon’s cock sleeve, and no one else’s. If you ever deny that, he will kill you and find another victim to play with, which he doesn’t want…
“We cum together, MC!”
Mammon hadn’t pulled out, he usually does when he’s on the verge of climaxing but not this time. Since your mind was solely on the camera instead of him, he changed your position to fulfill your selfish needs. You held up your thighs as he thrusted inside you while facing the camera. Your reflection from the camera lens catches your eye, and the amount of sticky seed spilling out your soaking cunt reminded you of how much the session had been going on for what seems like an eternity.
Your hips tremble as each thrust becomes more erratic than the last. The sound of skin slapping was Mammon’s breaking point, wanting to make each sound you make echo around him. Mammon was right under you grunting and moaning your name and calling you his slave, his cockslut, and his first human forever. He still pulled at your nipples as he relentlessly fucked your sensitive hole forcing any kind of noise to come out of you.
“I’m cumming MC, cum with me!” He moaned in your ear as he wrapped his arms around your chest and neck.
“Yes, Master!” Your moaning reverberated a sudden warning and just like before, your back arched as your release came through your body making your walls tighten around him. With a loud groan, Mammon came inside you; his twitching cock filled your insides with his load spurting deep into your stomach.
Both of your panting bodies tried desperately to find breath again, yet Mammon still couldn't hold in those final moments of peaceful release. He brought you down to his side and laced his tongue across your lips before kissing them as you caught your breath. His mouth still tasted like blood, but it somehow it tasted so sweet as your tongues entwined.
“Haa… ya really know how to please your Master, don’tcha?”
You didn’t know if that was his attempt at a compliment, but you couldn’t make a single sound to thank him, not after he broke your voice from all those orgasmic screeches. Cum came pouring out your throbbing cunt as he pulled out, and took his sweet time admiring the sight of your body covered is bruises and bite marks. He got up to retrieve the camera as you lay in silence; your one chance to rejuvenate after satisfying him.
“Huh? I didn’t press the record button…” His voice trailed off in sudden distraught.
The room was silent, only your beating heart and bated breath resonated in agony and exhaustion.
He glances at your body and back at the camera in disappointment. You hear the sound of the record button making you tense up.
“Again, until we get it perfect!” Mammon grabbed hold of your wrists and forced you to face him, his body towered over you with immense frustration.
You let out a loud sigh and spread open your thighs as his sinister smirk returned to his face.
“You’re such a good slave, MC.” He whispered to you as he wiped a fallen tear off your cheek…
110 notes · View notes
annathesillyfriend · 3 years
Text
Anna's April Fic Recs ✨
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Hello everyone, wellcome to my April fic recommendations (part 1) masterpost! This is a new thing I want to try to do and create a list like that twice a month. It really pains me that the amazing authors out there don't get the recognition they dereserve so I'm gonna do what I can to spread my love for them. I also hope more people will get to experience the joy of reading all these wonderful works!
To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much! To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It's the least we could do to show our gratitude.
Without further ado, here are the fic I read this month and adored
MARVEL
Bucky Barnes
Take a chance on me by @jurassicbarnes
one-shot, single mum!au, fwb to lovers
Bucky's game nights by @eurynome827
series, slow burn, they're playing games with their hearts
Baby fever by @youlightmeupfinn
one-shot, who wouldn't want that man as their baby daddy?
All yours by @babyboibucky
one-shot, 18+, tfatws!Bucky
A single thread by @jobean12-blog
one-shot, coffeeshop with Buck
New adventures by @celestialbarnes
one-shot, best friends to lovers
Beautiful girl by @borkingbarnes
one-shot, a morning with Buck
Erase every trace by @angrythingstarlight
one-shot, 18+, tfatws!Bucky
What you need by @buckycuddlebuddy
one-shot, 18+, best friend and roommate!Bucky, a cam is involved 👀
Cookies, kisses and such by @sweetbucky
one-shot, friends to lovers
The Match by @/babyboibucky
series, ceo!bucky
Policework by @jurassicbarnes
one-shot, police detectives!au
Eyes on you by @kleohoneyao3
one-shot, 18+
Take me as I am, whoever I am by @/jurassicbarnes
one-shot, 18+
Greedy by @/babyboibucky
one-shot, 18+, hot hot hot!
Destructive by @buckybarnesdiaries
one-shot, Bucky's scared of his feelings
Sunday kinda' love by @msmarvelwrites
one-shot, 18+, some things are more important than breakfast
Separation, connection (part 2) by @firefly-in-darkness
two-shot, 18+, the angst is strong in this one
Angel on her knees by @/babyboibucky
one-shot, 18+, Bucky gets some love hehe
Feelings are fatal by @sunmoonandbucky
series, steve leaves to be with Peggy, reader deals with the loss
It's messy inside, let me take your coat by @/divine-mistake
one-shot, 18+, plus size!reader
Beautiful people by @nacho-bucky
series, plus size!reader, the most real, beautiful, human story
Sam Wilson
Dancing with Sam Wilson would include... by @certifiedskywalker
head cannon, the title says it all
Positions by @luciilferss
one-shot, 18+, Sam's a gem Monday through Sunday
Identity by @samwilsons-pillowpecs
series, Sam loses memory and they say he wanted to kill Bucky
Amartment 3C by @/bohemianpages
series, Sam comes back from the snap to find his flat occupied
Honest by @xbuchananbarnes
one-shot, tfatws!sam
The first time you realise you are in love by @barnesnroses
part of a mini series, the fluff 😫
Walk me home by @whisperlullaby
one-shot, Sam comes to the rescue
Memory loss by @/captain-kelli
series, Sam and reader are on a hunt for winter solider
SamBucky
Cratures of habit by @callitdreamland
miniseries, sambucky x reader
How sweet it is by @indyluckycharlie
series, sambucky modern!au
The therapist by @holylulusworld
mini series, y/n helps them with their problems
Steve Rogers
Glitter by @sarahwroteathing
one-shot, elementary teacher!Steve x single mom!reader
Error by @buckysknifecollection
one-shot, de-serumed!steve
Words whispered in the dark by @anika-ann
part of the Attached series or stand alone, modern-college-professor AU, 18+
Corrupting a good boy by @donutloverxo
series, ceo!steve x desi!reader
Cash rules everything around me by @/slyyywriting
series, stripper!steve
Where the love light gleams by @/sunmoonandbucky
series, social media!au
Sharon Carter
Permanent by @/samwilsons-pillowpecs
one-shot, tattoo artist!sharon
Loki Laufeyson
Steam by @the--sad--hatter
series, slowburn, enemies to frenemies to idiots in love
Peter Parker
Love sick and a little bit drunk by @spideyspeaches
one-shot, collage!peter
Invisible string by @peterbenjiparker
series, soulmate!au
Don't hold back by @hollandcrush
one-shot, 18+, college!peter
Dancing with our hand tied by @/justeclipseblogs
series, stark!reader, enemies to lovers
My medication by @/kelieah
one-shot, broken teens in love
HOLLAND & CO.
Tom Holland
Lockscreen by @cherrycheridarling
one-shot, famous!reader
Monday mornings by @blissfulparker
one-shot, professor!tom x professor!reader
Written in the stars by @ptersmj
one-shot, fuff!!!
Hooked on your feelings by @heyhihellowhatsup0
series, fwb!tom
Ski date by @tetralea
one-shot, 18+, idiots in love, friends to lovers
Take sugar? by @/hollandcrush
one-shot, carpenter!tom x ex-best friend!reader, 18+
I swear to God I never fall in love by @hazofmyheart
one-shot, fratboy!tom, 18+, spoiler alert: he does
Break up with your girlfriend by @rosyparkers
one-shot, 18+, frat football player!tom, cheerleader!y/n, fwb au
Perennial by @peeterparkr
series, sequel to Perdify, the biggest oof moment yet
All for her by @screamholland
series, single dad!tom
Royal convinience by @/poetrcy
series, royal!au
Kiss me slowly by @/storybookholland
one-shot, soft frat!tom
Harry Holland
Always by @/multiholland
series, best freind!harry
Sam Holland
'tis the damn season by @/unsaidholland
one-shot, ex boyfriend!sam
Our night by @/storybookholland
one-shot, jealous!sam
Harrison Osterfield
No way by @soft-haz
one-shot, friends to lovers
Second self by @/soft-haz
one-shot, 18+, reader gives Haz a hand wink wink
Harrison mastelist by @allegra-writes
lots of great Haz things!
Bet on it by @storybookholland
series, fwb
THE IRREGULARS
Whole masterlist by @uglypastels
these all wonderful!! you should also check out the amazing art works at the bottom of this masterlist
LEO
The Fountain of Ichor by @thegirlintheswivelchair
series, leo x lady-in-waiting!reader
OTHERS
Anthony Bridgerton
Sham, pride and illicit affairs by @/peeterparkr
series, quite possibly the most poetic fic ever written
Coming home again by @/misstonybridgerton
series, old friends reunite
Spencer Reid
An Interesting Electronic by @/homoose
one-shot, 18+
Frank Adler
I ruined our sweet tune by @/rodrikstark
one-shot, kinda professor!frank
Ransom Drysdale
The Five Times You Told Ransom Drysdale You Loved Him (And The One Time He Said It Back) by @just-one-ordinary-fangirl
one-shot, childhood friends to life gets in the way to lovers
Sacrilage by @the-iceni-bitch
one-shot, 18+, you'll have to shower in holy water after this
Okay, I might have gone a little overboard but hey, there's no such thing as too much good fanfiction!
Enjoy! 🥰
574 notes · View notes
the-iceni-bitch · 3 years
Text
Happy Fucking New Year!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Words: 5071
Summary: You and Bucky spend New Year’s Eve together in Paris!
Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal play, cum eating), explicit descriptions of violence, minor character death, SMUT, 18+ only!!!
A/N: Well, my grandma ass passed out while literally writing this fic last night at like 10PM so sorry it’s late! But it’s still New Year’s Day so whatever. It’s kinda fun, I definitely enjoy having Bucky and Sam be complete idiots while our poor reader is the only one with common sense, so you may be seeing a lot of those two fucking things up in this series. Join my taglist here if you’re inclined and a Happy New Year to all you lovely hoes!
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“Damn, Barnes. Look at your ass in that tux.”
He choked on his champagne when you snuck up behind him, grabbing one ass cheek and giving it a squeeze before he had a chance to turn around.
He didn’t know how you always managed to catch him off guard.  He was used to being able to pick up on any threat immediately, but you were always able to slip under his defenses.
The expression that came over his face when he finally saw you was priceless. You loved surprising him with shockingly revealing outfits, offending those sweet old man sensibilities he pretended to have in public. But you knew exactly what he was thinking as his eyes drank you in.
The gown you had picked was a deep blue velvet that hugged your curves. While the skirt was tight against your legs, it still could’ve possibly been considered modest. The top though…. The v of the neck wasn’t as deep as your usual style, but the back dipped so low he wondered how you could possibly be wearing panties. All he could think of was snapping those thin straps with his vibranium hand and watching the fabric slide over your soft skin before it pooled around your ankles.
He couldn’t believe the two of you were spending New Year’s Eve in Paris. You’d barely had a chance to speak to each other after your tryst in Stockholm, and now you were together in the city of lights on one of the most romantic nights of the year.
“Hey, Barnes, you still in there?”
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He grinned at you as he watched you take a sip of champagne. “Just wondering where you’re hiding your knives in that dress?”
“Mmm, if this night goes according to plan, maybe I’ll let you look for them later.” You teased him, giving him a wink as you walked your fingers across his chest.
“Alright, that’s enough. You two promised to cool it with the kinky shit over comms.”
The two of you turned to shrug apologetically at Sam, who was glaring murderously at you from across the foyer.
“Sorry Sammy.” You whispered, tittering to yourself.
“Yeah, sorry Sammy.” Bucky gave him a stupid grin as the three of you started slowly moving to one the hallways leading to the main building.
“You don’t get to call me that, Barnes. You keep getting me into these fucking stupid situations, and your poor girlfriend always has to get us out. We were almost home, man, and you just had to follow that shady fucker at the airport.”
“No, he was following me. And anyways, I was right about him. I told you HYDRA had various goon squads lurking around.”
“You guessed.”
“I guessed right.”
“So, you admit it, you guessed!”
“Hey, boys!” You furrowed your brow as you turned to glare at the two of them, a little annoyed at the bickering. “Isn’t there supposed to be a door here?”
They finally shut up and followed your line of sight to where all the intelligence indicated the access door to the arsenal should be located.
Bucky let out a deep sigh and clenched his jaw, his eyes moving up the wall until they found the tiny hatch in the corner, fifteen feet off the floor. He turned his head to Sam and growled.
“You were in charge of reconnaissance. Do you not know the difference between a door and a hatch? Do your little robot minions not know how to take measurements?”
“Hey, don’t blame the robots man! This was based on human intelligence, which I’m pretty sure is your responsibility.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
You ground your teeth together as you listened to the two of them, not sure how you were able to put up with this shit. You took in your surroundings, trying to figure out a way through this situation.
“Well one of us has to get up there.” You murmured to yourself.
“I nominate robot boy.”
“Ok, ya know what, they’re not robots. I might’ve been able to let it go but, heh, I can’t. They’re drones. And if you think me buzzing one of those through the party out there is inconspicuous…”
“Oh, not one of your robots, you. What if I throw you at the hatch?”
One glance at him let you know he was seriously considering throwing your friend at the hatch. You rolled your eyes as you slipped out of your pumps.
“Ok, now you’re trying to piss me off, I just told you they were drones. And you are not throwing me at that tiny door. It’s not even open.”
“Well, if I throw you hard enough, that won’t matter.”
“It’s a solid steel door, dumbass. And I’m pretty sure it opens outward. I vote we come back later with some tools.”
“We’re on a timetable. I say we settle this with some old-fashioned rock, paper, scissors.”
“Um, no, you cheat.”
“How can you cheat at rock, paper, scissors?”
You did your best to tune them out as you stretched, sighing as you gathered your dress up over your thighs and grumbling to yourself about ruining another outfit.
“I don’t know, but you do. Ok, if you use your normal hand, maybe that’ll work.”
“Whatever, I’ll still win.”
You walked back down the hall, then turned and sprinted past the two of them, vaulting off one leg when you reached the corner and using your momentum to spring yourself off the wall until you were able to brace yourself in the tiny alcove next to the hatch.
“Could one of you toss me the laser driver from my clutch?” You called down to them, now that they had finally stopped their incessant arguing.
Sam grinned up at you as he picked your clutch off the ground, tossing the driver to you when he found it.
“Man, every time.” He shook his head at Bucky as you started working on dismantling the door. “I don’t know how your dumbass has survived this long without us, Barnes. You can’t just punch your way through everything.”
“I’m sorry, ‘us’? Seems like she’s doing all the work while you’re just bossy.”
“Can you two just give it a rest? I’m in.” You pulled the hatch open and slid through it, hanging over the edge by your fingertips for just a second before softly dropping on the balls of your feet on the other side. “Fuck, that’s a lot of bombs.”
“What kinds of bombs?” Sam asked over the comms, all business now.
“Well, I’m not an expert, but this sure looks like tesseract related tech to me.”
“Shit.” Bucky hissed. “Any way to disarm?”
“Well, probably, sweetie, but there’s at least 100 of these fuckers, and I don’t really feel like spending all of New Year’s Eve playing ‘which wire?’”
“Alright, just give us a second.”
You heard a yelp from outside and all of a sudden Sam’s torso came flying through the open hatch, his hips catching on the edge.
“Did he just throw you?” You asked, not bothering to hide the grin that spread over you face as Sam looked for something to swing down with. You dragged over an empty shelf and he pulled himself through, climbing down gingerly to come stand beside you.
“Your boyfriend is a fucking menace.” He grumbled, brushing some debris off his shoulders. He whistled through his teeth when he got a good look at the stockpile you had uncovered. “Shit.”
“Fuck me.” Bucky murmured, suddenly behind the two of you, making Sam jump.
“Goddamn it Barnes, why you gotta always be so stealthy?”
“Maybe you just need to pay better attention, what if I’d been a goon?”
“You are a goon.”
“Oh my god, I cannot do another round of this. Sam, can you call this in please? Maybe Sharon will have some idea of what to do about the massive pile of shit we just stepped in.”
“Fine, Y/N. I’ll call the boss.”
You went to examine the bombs more closely. They all seemed to have remote triggers, but you didn’t want to take the chance that they were volatile, so you resisted the urge to pick one up.
“Yeah, this is definitely tesseract tech.” Bucky muttered, and your heart jumped into your throat when you turned to see him tossing one of the bombs into the air and catching it again in his vibranium hand.
“Motherfucker put that down you idiot! What if there had been a pressure sensor?”
Bucky stared at you for a second, then back at the bomb in his hand. “Right, whoops.” He placed it back on the pile gingerly and gave you a sheepish grin.
“I swear to god, the two of you are going to end up getting me killed.”
“Ok, boss said they have a remote drone about one minute out that should have the ability to disarm these. She just wanted us to open the skylight for it.”
“The what?” You hissed at him.
“Uh….”
“There’s a fucking skylight?” You looked up and scoffed, seeing a very large window right there in the ceiling.
“Nice, Wilson.” Bucky just shook his head at him.
“Fuck you, Barnes! You didn’t know about it either.”
“No more! One of you morons get up there and open it!” You were seething. “You’re lucky I like the two of you or I swear to god, I would stab the both of you right now.”
“Alright, rock, paper, scissors?”
“No!! Bucky, just fucking do it.” You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your fingers into the peaks of your eyebrows.
“You got it, beautiful. You’re so cute when you’re mad… shit.”
He had to scramble up one of the shelves as you tried to charge at him, but Sam was able to hold you back at the last second.
“Ok, let’s all just take some deep breaths. It’s all good. The drones on the way. We didn’t have to fight anyone. And there’s still 25 minutes until midnight, so we’ll all get to toast the new year.”
Right as he uttered that last word, a large door on the opposite end of the room opened, and three goons carrying large guns entered.
“Goddamn it, Wilson, you jinxed us. And look, another fucking door!”
“Yeah, they do seem to be popping up everywhere.” He muttered under his breath. “Hey, fellas, we were just…. god, y’know what, I’m too tired to come up with something. Should we just fight?”
You sneered at him before hefting one of the bombs and chucking at the head of one of the guards, hitting him right between the eyes and knocking him out.
“OOHH! What if that had gone off?” Sam yelled at you as you charged the two standing goons who were still standing, diving at the last second to roll one of them over your shoulder.
“Oh, so only you and grandpa are allowed to make stupid decisions, then?” You said, pulling out a knife from under your skirt and trying to stab the guard who was still standing. You were just a little too slow and he dodged you, making you hiss. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”
“Shit, right.” He found a metal pipe leaning against the corner and walked over to where the first guard was starting to come to his senses, bringing it around in an arc to crash against his chin, knocking him out again.
“Drone’s here! Aww man, you guys started a fight without me?” Bucky had climbed back down to find the two of you grappling with your respective opponents.
He walked over and punched the asshole that had Sam in a chokehold in the face with his vibranium fist, feeling a satisfying crunch as he went down. Bucky started to stride over to give you a hand as Sam tried to catch his breath when you suddenly drove your knife up under your opponent’s ribs, giving it a twist before you withdrew it.
“Y’know,” He murmured as he watched you bend over to clean off the blade on the dead man’s jacket. “I’m a little mad at you now. I was looking forward to looking for that later tonight.” He grinned at you, nodding at the knife in your hand as you drew up your skirt to return it to the sheath on your thigh.
“Don’t worry sweetie, there’s plenty hiding under here for you to discover.” You teased him as he pulled you to him, pressing a deep kiss to your lips and moaning against your mouth. He always got so worked up after watching you fight.
“Ugh, I’m still here, you freaks!”
“Shit, sorry Sam!” You flashed an apologetic grin at your friend as he glared at you. Bucky was pulling at the front of his pants and screwing his eyes closed as he tried to fight his obvious erection.
“There’s something wrong with you two.” He muttered under his breath as he started climbing the shelves to leave through the skylight.
The drone had done its job. All the indicator lights on the bombs were off, showing there were no longer armed. You gave a small sigh of satisfaction before looking up at the skylight.
“Gimme a boost, Buck.”
“Yep.” He hooked his hands under one of your heels and grinned to himself as he brought his arms up a little faster than you had intended, flinging you up to the roof in one swift motion and making you yelp.
“You’re such a dick!” You shouted down to him as he started to climb out after you, making him laugh. “What time is it Sam?”
“Hey, we’ve still got 10 minutes to midnight!” He said, giving you a grin.
“Ooh, think we can make it back?”
“Yeah, it’s just a couple rooftops over! Barnes, move your ass!”
Bucky was just climbing onto the roof as you and Sam started jogging towards the adjacent building and cursed under his breath as he clambered to follow you.
Sam let out a whoop as he leaped between the buildings, one of his drones catching him halfway and carrying him to the other side.
“Oh my god was that waiting out here the whole time?” You scolded him as he swooped back to lift you across the gap, depositing you softly on the next roof.
“Yeah, why are you surprised?”
You just gave him a laugh as Bucky flung himself over the space between the structures, rolling in his landing and scowling at the two of you when he regained his feet.
“No thanks, I don’t need any help.” He growled at Sam, voice dripping with sarcasm as he brushed some pebbles off the shoulder of his tux jacket.
“You’re fine.” Sam waved a dismissive hand as the three of you walked to the next edge, which led to your hotel.
You dropped down first to the ledge that was 10 feet below, landing on the balls of your feet and twisting just a bit to gain your balance before you started gliding towards the window to your room.
“You good, Y/N?” Sam called as they watched you crouch as much as you could when you reached the end of the ledge.
“She’s got it.” Bucky muttered as you uncurled your body like a whip, shooting across the gap between the two buildings, latching onto the buttress above your window as you stretched down, your toes reaching for the lower sill. You found your purchase and released one hand to draw the window open, then slipped inside easily. “See?” He gave Sam a grin as he moved to follow you.
It only took the two of them a minute to join you, and you met them with champagne and a pleased smile on your face.
“Hello boys, just in time for the countdown!”
You passed out the drinks and took one for yourself before the three of you headed out to the small balcony that was around the corner from the window you had entered through.
“And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!” The three of you shouted.
You heard the city erupt in cheers and fireworks started exploding over the Eiffel tower. Bucky set his champagne flute down and drew you into his arms, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You sighed as you opened up to him, welcoming the crisp taste of champagne on his tongue as he curled it against yours.
“Ooookay, that is my cue to leave.” Sam said, downing the rest of his drink and avoiding making eye contact with either of you as he made his exit.
“Mmm, Happy New Year, Sammy!” You called after him. Bucky just waved a hand at him as his mouth moved down to your neck, his lips trailing over your throat as his other hand pressed against the small of your back.
“Just, remember to take out your comms, I’m begging you.” Sam said before shutting the door behind him.
“Fuck, right.” You plucked yours out of your ear and set it next to your glass as Bucky drew you back into the room, sucking on the curve of your shoulder softly. He released you for just a second to remove his own comm and closed the door to the balcony before turning back to you.
“Oh, that fucking dress.” He growled as he took you in, his eyes dark with desire. “You know, I’ve been wanting to peel you out of that thing all night, you damn cock tease.”
You stepped into him and pressed your hand against the bulge in his pants as you nipped at his bottom lip. “Mmm, your always so good to me when I tease you though, baby. I can’t help it.” You moved your hands up to start undoing his tie. “Besides, I don’t know how you can blame me for teasing you when you’re walking around in this tux. I’ve been wet all night.” You whipped the tie off and started working on the buttons of his shirt as you took his earlobe between your lips and sucked on it.
His hands moved to your ass and squeezed as he ground his hips against you, making you gasp. “Don’t tell me that unless you want me to do something about it. Fuck, are you even wearing anything under here?”
You slid his jacket off his shoulders and followed it with his shirt, running your fingers over his bare torso before starting to undo his belt. “Why don’t you get it off me and find out?” You purred, gazing up at him through your lashes as you drew the belt through the loops and moved to unbutton his fly.
He leered at you and brought his hands up to your shoulders, running the thin straps of your gown through his fingers before snapping them easily. He sighed as he watched the material slither over your curves and pool at your feet. “I fucking knew it.”
You were completely bare under his gaze, aside from the two knife belts you had around your thighs, each of which contained 2 blades.
“Damn it, Barnes.” You scolded him.
“What?”
“Could we have one night where you don’t end up ruining at least one expensive item of clothing?” You sighed, bending over to pick up the dress and shooting him a soft look of reproval.
“Shit, baby. I’m sorry. I get too excited.” He did feel a little bad, but every time you wore something like that, all he could think of was ripping it off you.
“Well, now you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You teased, tossing the dress aside and drawing him closer.
“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured as his fingers moved to start undoing the belts around your thighs. He brushed his lips against the small hollow beneath your ear as he worked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there as his fingers brushed over your legs, making your pussy clench around nothing. “You want me to show you how sorry I am with my tongue?” He set aside the two belts and moved a hand to cup your sex, groaning at how warm and wet he found you.
“God, just fucking do it.” You hissed as he teased a finger between your folds, barely brushing against your heat before withdrawing again.
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He picked you up and carried you a few feet to lay you on the dining room table, kicking the chairs out of the way with a clatter.
He gave you a searing kiss, taking your breath with him when he withdrew to kneel between your thighs. His stubble tickled at your skin as he moved his lips and tongue up your inner thigh at an agonizing pace, moving to the other thigh when he had almost reached your cunt and making you whine.
“I’m so sorry I ruined your dress, pretty girl.” He finally dragged his tongue over your slit and you let out a low moan, your fingers burying themselves in his hair as he repeated the motion. “Wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but this pussy does things to me.”
He pressed the flat of his tongue against you and drew it over your entrance heavily, slurping up all the evidence of your arousal with an obscene sound before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The whimper you let out made his cock twitch as your thighs clenched around his shoulders, drawing him into you even further.
“God, Bucky, right there.” You murmured as he increased the pressure on your bundle of nerves and inserted two fingers into your cunt, moaning at the feeling of your satiny walls clenching around him. He curled them just a bit and you wailed, arching your back into him as you started whispering “please” over and over like a prayer.
He grinned against you as he shook his head slightly, pressing himself even further into your heat and lapping up the juices that leaked from you as he fucked you with his fingers.
He added a third finger and crooked his wrist just slightly and that was it. Every muscle in your body went rigid as you came against his face, soaking him in your release as you clamped down on his fingers and sobbed with pleasure. You released him slightly, only to spasm again from the aftershocks as your muscles quivered around him. He finally managed to draw himself away and stood between your legs, grinning down as he watched you come down from your orgasm, shivering occasionally as a random jolt of pleasure shot through you.
“You think you can forgive me?” He asked wickedly as he finished undoing his slacks and slid them over his hips, followed by his boxer briefs. He drew his hand over his length as he waited for you to answer, nudging the tip of his cock against your folds and making you yelp.
“Fuck, yes. God Bucky.” You sat up and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face to yours violently. You ground your hips against him, groaning as you felt his shaft slide through your slick easily. He started to lift you to bring you to the bedroom and you shook your head a bit before releasing him. “No, I need it now.”
He grinned at you as he teased his head against your clit, making you whine. “You want me to fuck you right here on the table?”
“God, yes please. Gimme that cock. I need you inside me.” It was driving you crazy. You brought a hand between the two of you and wrapped it around him, making him hiss as you lined him up. “I want you to split me open then fuck me until I can’t breathe.”
He let out a low growl from deep in his chest. He loved when you talked like this. He pushed into slowly with a groan until he was sheathed to the hilt, relishing in the feel of you clenching around him. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. So tight and warm. What else you want me to do to you?” He started moving his hips slowly, grinding them against you each time he was bottomed out.
“Shit,” You were panting with need as he moved inside you, his cock dragging against your g-spot over and over and making it hard to think. “I want your mouth on my tits. God, just like that.” He was following your instructions beautifully, dragging his tongue over the inner slope of your breast as his hips kept up their slow pace. “Fuck, baby, suck on my nipples now.”
He did as you asked, swirling his tongue over the sensitive buds as his lips closed around them, sucking softly and making you whine. He’d always been good at following orders.
“Mmm, move faster.” You commanded, wrapping your fingers in his hair as he continued lavishing attention on your breasts.
He obliged easily, picking up the pace until he was slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you. You met each of his thrusts with your own, mewling as you felt a coil starting to knot in your abdomen.
“God, I’m gonna cum.” You whined.
One more drive of his hips and the coil broke, making you scream. Your fingernails dug into his scalp as you went stiff for just a beat before everything released. He smiled into your neck as you vibrated against him, panting heavily as you came down.
He kept fucking into you like a man possessed. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he felt you relax a bit. “Did I do good, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, baby, you did great.” You laughed into his mouth as he kept moving.
“You’re in charge, pretty girl. What do you want now?”
“God, work my clit. Fuck, just like that.” You were having trouble focusing as he did what you asked. “I need your mouth on my neck. Hngh, Bucky! That’s so good.”
“What else, beautiful?” he grinned against your throat, loving how easily you were coming apart around him. He picked up the pace with his hips a little more and felt you flutter around him.
“Shit, stick your thumb up my ass.”
He was not prepared for that and his hips faltered for a bit. He whipped his head up to stare at you as he regained his composure.
“What?”
“Ahh, fuck.” You were just a little embarrassed. You usually liked to ramp up to this type of thing, and especially with Bucky, you had wanted go really slow with this particular kink. You didn’t know how much of a thing anal play had been in the 40s. “Um, you can forget I said that.”
To your surprise, he broke out into an absolutely sinful grin and gave you a savage kiss as he laid you back on the table, stilling his hips but keeping himself sheathed in you as he drew your knees up to your shoulders.
“I’ve been dreaming about this ass, baby.” He said as he started moving his hips again, dragging his thumb through the slick that was leaking out around his cock and moving it down until it was pressing against your pretty hole, making you gasp.
“Bucky, don’t tease me.”
“Thinking about this tight little hole wrapped around my cock, I was worried you’d never let me in.” You moaned as he pressed himself through the tight ring of muscle and your eyes rolled up into your skull as you arched yourself into him. “But here you are, giving me a fucking invitation.”
He gave a groan when both your holes clenched around him, and he felt his cock moving in your cunt with his thumb through the thin lining between your passages. He drew himself out halfway and slammed back into violently, the tip of him barely kissing your cervix and making you whine.
His fingers on your clit pressed down hard and you flew apart around him, your orgasm ripping through you with abandon. The scream you let out was otherworldly as you creamed all over his cock.
The sight of you writhing beneath him sent him over his own edge and he shouted your name as his cum spurted inside of you, coating your walls and his dick as he collapsed on top of you.
You were still trembling as aftershocks rippled through your body. He kissed your neck and pulled out of you gently. You barely noticed, you were so fucked out.
“Shit sweetheart.” He muttered as he drew himself up. “This body treats me so fucking good. Damn, look at that.” He drew your knees apart and stared appreciatively at you pussy, still clenching as you came down. His cum was slowly leaking out of you and dribbling over your puckered hole. “Let’s clean you up.”
You had expected him to go get a towel, but he knelt down and dragged his tongue over first your asshole, then your slit, making you sob as he lapped up the mixture of your releases. When he drew his tongue over your clit, you came again immediately, it was so overstimulated.
“Fuck, you ok, Y/N?” He hadn’t expected you to be that sensitive and was worried he might have overdone it. He brought himself back up to look you in the eyes, cupping one cheek in the palm of his hand as he studied your face with concern.
“God, Bucky, I’m fucking great.” You gave him a sloppy grin as you stared up at him, turning your head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I don’t think I can walk though.” Your legs were jelly.
He just laughed and scooped you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and laying on the bed. He covered you with the sheets and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to clean himself up. He was only gone for a minute before he was sliding behind you and wrapping you in his arms.
“Happy New Year, beautiful.” He whispered into your hair as you drifted off to sleep, drowsy now that you were surrounded with his warmth.
“Happy fucking New Year, Bucky.” You murmured before you dozed off, blissfully satisfied.
Permanent Tags:
@drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @starlightcrystalline​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @buckysnumberonegirl​
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nevermindirah · 3 years
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can you recommend me some of your favorite book of nile fics?
CAN I. Anon, I have read every single fic in the AO3 Booker/Nile tag with the exception of a handful that will trigger me. I read my faves over and over again. We're currently at 303 works in the tag, and a handful of them are Joe/Nicky fics with "if you squint" BoN (I still read them, I can't help myself) but the vast majority of them are AMAZING. Fandom is full of kind and talented people, holy shit.
if you want a slow burn — you're in luck because this ship SPECIALIZES in slow burn!
First, the triumvirate of Book of Nile Classics. These were the first long fics for this ship and they're all so unique given they share basically the exact same premise, that Nile and Booker get to know each other slowly through run-ins spread out over years of his exile.
Five Times Booker Broke His Exile and the One Time He Did Not by @sphinx81: The one where they keep running into each other on ops, with the angsty middle chapter where Booker gets deep in his self-hate and calls Nile a clueless child and Nile reasonably tells him to go fuck himself and doesn't speak to him for years.
everywhere on earth you go (you're gonna have me) by nondz (pinkjook): The one with the buddy system. This is the only BoN fic that has a podfic as far as I'm aware! You can listen to it over and over and over again! The reader's voice is so soothing! [Podfic] everywhere on earth you go (you're gonna have me) by sallysparrow017
The Last Man on Earth by Survivah: The one where Booker doesn't show up in London when his exile's up, so Nile tracks him down, they get stuck in a broken elevator, and she gives him a medium sell.
Any Port in Storm by CypressSunn: Nile gives up her evac spot so a dad with kids can escape a blizzard that's on its way in rural Canada, and Booker stays behind with her, because Nile may know her shit about surviving in the desert but she doesn't know anywhere near what Booker knows about freezing to death. If you really want to up the angst on this one, first read a mausoleum fit for me by @spectralarchers for (a really interesting take on Booker's mortal life and) a visceral, detailed exploration of exactly how shitty Booker's experience was of starving and freezing on the Russian campaign.
If everything I do has got a hole in it (then everything you do has got a hold on me) by AnnieTheMouse: Nile will take over for Andy, but not just yet. First she's gonna be a little irresponsible, enjoy herself a little bit, sow her wild oats. If one of her hookups happens to also be fucking Booker, what about it?
Part of the Union by GlassRose: This is a newer take on the Book of Nile Classics genre where Nile and Booker run into each other over the years. Best friends to lovers, facilitated by a Team Baby union contract. Featuring stunning art by albymangroves, my absolute favorite fanartist from Captain America fandom.
Bring the World Back Into Tune by @mprosperossprite: Technically an AU, but 2 Old 2 Guard will make AUs of all of these, right? Hades and Persephone magical realism elements on top of a gorgeous, nuanced analysis of what it means, in practice, in such a complicated and fucked-up world, to "do what we think is right". Star-crossed, spanning years and continents, lives not permanently ruined but much blood shed. (Hi I originally joined Tumblr because of the Veronica Mars movie anybody else see the Logan/Veronica parallels??)
Announcing Your Place in the World of Things by @mprosperossprite: The soulmate goose AU. Yeah you read that right! I'm putting this here and not in the AU category because it's my list and I make the rules. Some people have soulmates, and those people get a daemon-type friend who's a goose so your goose can lead you to your soulmate. This closely follows movie canon and answers questions like, what if our elderly friends had soulmate geese with them in Goussainville? (Mouse over the author's username and peep her icon! Look how sweet chibi-Nile is with her soulmate goose Tigris! Look, anon, look!!)
Wish You Were Here by @aimmyarrowshigh: The latest entry in the Book of Nile Classics genre, this time starting with a postcard. Part I is up now and Part II is coming soon. Bookmark for later if you want a satisfying ending, or go read it right now if you want a deliciously WHAT emotional cliffhanger. (It's so good! I recommend it! Also waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah c'mon you're gonna leave us hanging on THAT??)
I'm also gonna include my own here, because I'm really proud of it and whatever it's my list: I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. Nile becomes the guard's leader, moves to London on her own to adjust to immortal life, develops a long-term plan for how exactly they're going to do what they think is right, and gets a shit ton of emotional support from the guard and Copley and several OCs and a certain exiled Frenchman who's dealing with his shit by getting a PhD in trauma studies. Check it out if you like politics and long footnotes and porn with feelings!
if you want an AU
The Beautiful Game by @victimhood: Elite footballers AU! This fic lives in my head rent-free to the extent that I have headcanons about the in-universe RPF fandom for these characters. Nile is a USWNT and Barça champion who had to retire early due to a worsening chronic illness, and she moves to Milan for a sportscasting job just as a new player gets traded from Copley's Liverpool to Andy's Inter Milan. How will Booker mesh with his new teammates, especially the team captain with the murder eyes? How will Nile rebuild her life after having to stop playing the game she loves? And why does Yooker keep trending on social media??
if you do take a thief by @morallygreywaren: Clue(do) AU! Six strangers (or are they?) are blackmailed into a dinner party. This fic masterfully gives equal airtime to all 3 ships in the middle of a damn murder mystery, and NILE'S DAD IS ALIVE IN THIS ONE, I REPEAT, NILE'S DAD IS ALIVE. And the author has a follow-up planned!
A General Librarian by @sweetlyenchains: Booker and his sons live in a magical manor house with a sentient library. Nile is a retired general who agrees to marry a widower sight unseen for *handwave* reasons, and she's not thrilled to be some old man's wife but it'll be fine. And then she meets the library. And then she meets its caretaker.
Les Petits Monstres by @winterequinoxx: The original gym AU. Nile gets to know the single dad of her adorable tiny martial arts students. The cutest of kid fics and the source of widely-used fanon for Jean Pierre's brothers' names.
Rhymes with Shook Her by @lady-writes: Booker the Happy Hooker! Nile's a stressed grad student who books a sex worker to get her out of her head, and you'll never guess what happens next 😏😏
The Kids Are All Right by @takethisnight-wrapitaroundme: The teachers AU where the students gossip incessantly about the English teacher's painfully obvious years-long crush on Ms. Freeman, and a fateful school dance where a last-minute chaperone switch-out and a teenager's smartphone change everything.
Geborgen by liadan14: Nile is sent by the CIA to take in a priority target. She makes a different call. This is a BoN-focused continuation of a primarily Joe/Nicky series that gives lovely attention to all 3 main pairings over the course of the series. Most of the commenters are there seemingly exclusively for the Joe/Nicky, and the author seems to really appreciate love for the BoN sections, so consider giving some BoN-specific love! Political and angsty and mysterious and hopeful and SO FUCKING HOT.
Cross Promotion by @rileywrites: The YouTubers AU! Slowest of slow burns. Work in progress with slow updates recently, but if the author never returns to this I think the latest chapter still makes for a very satisfying ending-ish thing.
For I Am Bound and You Are Free by EnglishAsSheIsSpoke: Selkie AU. In an alternate timeline with different countries and wars, Nile moves to a remote Scottish island in the early 1900s and joins the found family who maintains the lighthouse.
Eye Candy vs Soul Food by @lady-writes: The Princess and the Frog-inspired reincarnation AU. Short and sweet and angsty and romantic and mysterious and UGH it's so good!
Songs Written in Blood: A Nightingale's Flight by @winterequinoxx: The roaring nineteen-twenties speakeasy AU. A serial murderer is targeting talented Black people and the extraordinarily talented singer at Andy's bar is next on the list. Will the one cop who isn't a piece of shit be able to protect her? And what kinds of intimate situations might they find themselves in as the plot unfolds??
if you want porn
honey doesn't just catch flies by @queermermaids: The original honeypot fic. Nile gets back from a mission and Booker reminds her that she's home 😏😏
Take the Risk by @kyra-bane: I'm proud to say this is a result of my Kinktober request! (Almost) caught in the act. (Abortive) porn with feelings. Found family feels. This fic is a lap dance and secondhand embarrassment and a warm hug all in one sexy and hilarious lil package!
Show me somethin' natural by @highlightcity159: Nile has stretch marks and Booker would like to lick them. Leisurely we're-on-vacation established-relationship sex.
Almost Familiar by @takethisnight-wrapitaroundme: Nile's trying to pick someone up in a bar but nobody's sparking her interest, she's like a hundred years old and all these people are so young. Then the bartender hands her a drink from an admirer across the room. You'll never guess who it is or what happens next 😏😏
and still my heart has wings by allandmore99: "Booker is a good house husband and comes to visit publishing executive Nile on her lunch break."
ain't even done with the night by ourdarkspirits: MISSION FIC. Evening wear, posing as a couple, high stakes, close quarters, a heart-pounding mission followed by heart-pounding feelings followed by, well, you can guess 😏😏
With the One I Love by @takethisnight-wrapitaroundme: THIRTY ONE completely different smutty, smutty fics, one for every day of March. Tone and context and kinks and warnings vary wildly, there's something for everyone in this smorgasbord of porn!
Don't//Speak by @lady-writes: This fic is not for everyone — read the tags/warnings (which I contributed to as beta!) before you read. Nile and Booker explore kink. Andy, Quynh, Joe, and Nicky come home a lot earlier than they said they would.
Dido Burns by @mprosperossprite: If Nile wants an orgasm, she has to keep reading. Inspired by a certain WHAT THE FUCK DUDE Matthias Schoenaerts insta post that I can't find the link to right now.
And another two of my own: problem solved it's dissolved, a gym AU where they hook up and later find out Nile is Booker's new coworker. Graphic depiction of pegging if you're into that. 😏 And you have the right to lose control, my mission fic meets friends to Domme/sub lovers Big Bang contribution, complete with a sexy BoN playlist and 10 (yeah you read that right, TEN) different kink scenes. (Quarantine is hard of a slut, I'm coping, ok?!)
if you want angst
The Comforting Arms of Home by @highlightcity159: Nile leads her first mission, it gets a little rough for her but they make it out just fine, and people who are not Nile have just a whole fucking lot of feelings about the mission getting rough for her. Apologies are owed. Apologies are made.
Honeypot Missions Aren't So Sweet by redlionspride: In which Booker makes out with the mark and Nile has a lot of feelings about it. What, will they have to use their words?
Save Yourself and Confess, also by redlionspride: In which a building collapses with Nile, Booker, and a half-dozen kidnapped children still inside. Whump and its aftercare.
if you want fluff
The House Husband Interludes by @highlightcity159: Delicious little established-relationship slices of life seen through Nile and Joe's friendship.
Love and Tresses by @sphinx81: The fluffiest fluffy bathrobe of fics that I would literally wrap myself up in like a blanket if I could. Booker helps Nile with her hair.
You're my river running wild by @energievie: Nile and Booker road trip from Tijuana to Vancouver. The most established of established relationships is even more adorable when you see them interacting with strangers on the road.
While we're at it, the entire Gooey series by @energievie is Grade A Fluff!
2117, Revisited by @lady-writes: An absolutely stunning take on Booker and Nile's wedding. I had the absolute pleasure of helping out as Jewish wedding traditions resource for this and I cried at the finished product. A modern English interpretation of the traditional Sheva Brachot (seven wedding blessings) interspersed with the thoughts and feelings and mortal-family heirlooms the wedding couple and their immortal family bring to their chuppah.
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jaskierswolf · 2 years
Text
The Prince of Darkness
Written for @thewitcherbog flash fic challenge a while back but I never posted!
Rating: M
Summary: Jaskier is the King of the Underworld, and it's Valdo's day of judgement.
CW: Demon!Jaskier (and witchers), implied sexual content, death, torture (burning, choking, freezing.), Jask has an open relationship with all the witchers (but Geralt is his favourite), mentions of non con.
The hotel lobby was sophisticated and yet traditional, like something out of a movie. The dark panelling on the walls were dimly lit by flickering candles, and there was a fireplace roaring in the centre of the foyer, and a handful of gorgeous golden-eyed beauties were making their way around the room. They were finely dressed, perfectly tailored suits with silken blood red waistcoats detailed with golden buttercups, a tray balanced on their hands as they passed out flutes of champagne. In the corner of the room was a black grand piano, the lid propped up as the man behind it let his fingers dance across the ivory keys, rings glistening silver and gold in the candlelight.
Jaskier smiled to himself as he played, his eyes shut, focussing on every little sound in the room, blending it with the music, manipulating the souls around him until they were practically eating out of his hand.
The Prince of Darkness, the mortals called him.
Lucifer himself.
He preferred Jaskier; buttercups were so beautiful, so innocent, so toxic.
It was the perfect moniker.
Lux was his domain, his hotel, a haven for demons and sinners alike, and the perfect stage for when Jaskier had to deal with… unpleasant business. The witchers, as he liked to call his inner circle of demons, would deal with the aftermath, cleaning up the elevator before any of Jaskier’s regular clientele could see.
The witchers were just such good pets.
Geralt approached the piano, his honey golden eyes almost entirely black as they approached the end of another poor soul’s contract. There was an itch that creeped under Jaskier’s skin, hot fire burning through his veins, but it didn’t bother him. No, he relished in the flames, let it warm his cold immortal body. Cracking an eye open, he peered at the witcher who had disturbed his music.
“He’s here, my lord.”
Jaskier sighed, bringing the music to an end, and then, with a snap of his fingers, the ivory keys started to play anew. The song was a familiar tune, a well known pop song from the mortals’ charts. It would keep his honoured guests entertained, after all, at Lux the party never-ended. Those who stepped through the swinging doors were transported to a realm of endless night; cocktails, champagne and designer clothes. The chandelier in the middle of the room twinkled, and there was a sharp clack of high heels on the granite floor as his guests mingled.
None of them ever seemed to realise there was something not quite right about Lux. When they were done partying, when Jaskier had made deals for their souls, they would leave and return to their realm as if they had only been there for an evening, never to return until their contract was up.
And they always returned.
Occasionally, a poor mortal would fight it, realising their impending doom. They’d try to flee the country, get as far away from Lux as possible, but the witchers were excellent hunters. Once the demons got the right scent, they could track their prey to the end of the known universe. The mortals never stood a chance. They either came willingly or they would be dragged through the doors by two of Jaskier’s finest demons; he wasn’t sure which he preferred.
Yes it was simpler if they accepted their fate, but he couldn’t deny that he just adored the thrill of watching the poor terrified soul being thrown at his feet.
He thought of himself as a kind devil, if such a thing existed, his father would certainly disagree, but his father could rot in heaven. Truly, Jaskier did his best to be fair. He granted the mortals wishes and made sure they lived their best lives, he even allowed most of them to live for many decades with the gifts he gave them, their deepest desires. Really, for some of the wishes he’d granted, it would have been kind to allow them even a year of life, let alone what he gave to them.
Ungrateful bastards, the lot of them.
Valdo Marx had been an easy soul to claim; he was greedy, lustful, full of pride. He’d practically begged at Jaskier’s feet back when he was in his first year of university.
“I want to be the best musician the world has ever seen, I want the most beautiful woman, Virginia Stael, to be my wife, and I want-”
Jaskier had waved his hand, his dark feathered wings spreading out behind him, and Valdo’s jaw had snapped shut, muffled sounds coming from his throat.
“I want, I want, I want,” Jaskier had cooed, his finger hooking under Valdo’s chin as he pouted down at the mortal, whipping his tail round to caress down the poor man’s arm until his wrist had been locked in a vice. “Do you know what I want… Marx?”
The wanna-be musician had scoffed, a fatal mistake and one that had cost him years off his life. “Everyone knows that, Lucifer.”
“My name, Valdo, is Jaskier,” he’d hissed, his forked tongue flicking out from his lips as more and more of his devil form had been revealed. “And I just want to have fun.”
“You want my soul.”
“No, your soul is the price. A mere business transaction. I just want to get wasted and shag my rather lovely demons, and you are wasting my time.”
Ah yes. Valdo had always been a little shit-stain in Jaskier’s life, but now his time had come.
The piano music began to build to an earth shattering crescendo, making the glasses rattle, and dust fall from the chandelier. Jaskier cracked his neck, feeling a prickling sensation on his scalp as his horns began to grow, and still the sweet, oblivious mortals noticed nothing. They sipped on their champagne and chatted amongst themselves, ignoring the way Jaskier’s cornflower blue eyes slowly turned onyx, his skin deathly pale. He smiled sweetly at his favourite witcher, running his lips along Geralt’s sharp cheekbones.
“Thank you, darling,” he breathed, capturing Geralt’s lips with his, tongues meeting in a quick but heated display of passion.
And then the doors burst open, Lambert and Aiden dragginga handsome but aging man through the doors, grey hairs dusting his temple, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. It had been a long time since Jaskier had seen Valdo Marx, but there was no denying his beauty, now distinguished, a true silver fox. Dark chocolate eyes met his as all the colour drained from Marx’s face.
“Oh God, no… no, please,” he stammered, struggling in the arms of the demons that held him.
“My dear father holds no power here,” Jaskier chuckled, smirking at the man at his feet. “There’s no use in praying. Your soul belongs to me.”
“Lu- Jaskier, please. I’m too young. It’s too soon,” Valdo begged, reaching up to Jaskier with open hands. “My wife, my children.”
“Oh but Valdo, It’s never too soon. I am never early and I never try to back out of a deal, darling,” Jaskier pouted, squatting so he was at eye level with the mortal. “So why don’t you come with me, love? Stop all this fussing. You’re ruining my party.”
With a fire not often seen in mortals, Valdo spat at Jaskier, and an eerie silence fell over the club. The piano music screeched to a halt, the lid closing with a bang, and the only sound was a low rumble of growls from the witchers. Geralt was at Jaskier’s side in a flash, his sword drawn and pointed at the man.
It was sweet.
As if Jaskier couldn’t defend himself, but he did enjoy the show, the way Geralt’s arms would flex as he gripped the sword, twirling it in a circle before executing his victim.
“I had planned to give you an easy death,” Jaskier lied, standing back up to his full demonic height and clearing his face with a snap, “but now, I think I’ll have some fun. Geralt, Eskel, with me. Lambert, Aiden, make sure our guests stay out of the way.”
“No!” Valdo cried, falling once more at Jaskier’s feet, gripping onto his ankles.
Oh, how he loved it when they begged for their lives.
When Jaskier glided through the foyer, picking up a champagne flute from Coen’s tray with barely a brush of his lips to the demon’s cheek, the crowd parted before him. Compliments fell off their tongues, sweet like honey, unaware of the influence Jaskier had over them. They all watched him, they always watched him, so very eager to please. Geralt snarled behind him as one brave mortal rested their hand on Jaskier’s arm, but it was Eskel who snapped their fingers, silent and deadly, before they’d even realised he was there.
Valdo was pulled into the elevator, tears streaming down his face and choked off screams ripping from his throat, but Jaskier remained calm, and if it weren’t for his eyes and the horns amongst his tousled brown hair, he would have looked like any other hotel owner.
Until the doors closed.
And then all hell broke loose; literally. Jaskier’s body cracked and snapped into place as his legs extended to inhuman proportions, his fingers growing into talons, and he let out a sinful moan as his wings unfurled behind him. He flicked out his tail, and his three-piece suit melted away into a gorgeous black silk corset, embroidered with golden buttercups. Red stockings adorned his legs, held up by lacy black garters, and as he flicked out his ankles, a pair of strappy heels materialised on his feet, the soles flashing red before clicking back onto the floor.
“Jaskier, please, please,” Valdo cried, falling against the side of the elevator as lightning sparked and they dropped fast, the dial on the wall spinning out of control.
“Your soul… belongs to me,” Jaskier hissed, pressing Valdo up against the wall, his hands wrapping around his throat.
He was tempted to snog Valdo’s soul right out of him, a sweet kiss to seal the deal, but that was too kind, and he was feeling a little more dramatic than that, so he pushed back off the wall, beating his wings so he hovered just off the floor. Geralt and Eskel were standing on either side of him, swords drawn with toxic black eyes, veins like ink beneath their skin.
Flames burst out behind them, whipping around so the whole elevator was surrounded by a burning pyre, singeing Valdo’s clothes, and the mortal screamed as the fire licked at his hand, scorching the calloused skin. His precious hands, his livelihood, the first things that Jaskier had blessed for him.
There was something so delightfully poetic in that, and Jaskier found great pleasure in it.
“Everyone always thinks that hell is eternal fire,” he purred, stroking a talon along Geralt’s cheek, before pulling Eskel into a soft kiss, taking his time to enjoy the taste of sulfur on his tongue, “but that isn’t always true.”
“W-what?”
Jaskier just pouted at Valdo. “Do try to keep up, darling.”
And then he snapped his fingers, the fire was suddenly extinguished, replaced by a flood of muddy tar. Valdo spluttered and choked as he slid to the ground, the tar catching in his hair, and wherever it landed his handsome looks withered away. The wedding band slipped from his finger and disappeared, despite Valdo’s desperate scrambling to find it.
The muddy mixture spewed all over the lift, covering the two demons as well as their victim, but Jaskier stayed clean and dry, untouched by the tar. He really wasn’t in the mood for ruining his clothes, not like this. He was rather hoping Geralt would tear them from his body later on that day whilst his other beloved witchers watched.
“J-Jaskier!” Valdo screamed, just as the entire elevator froze.
Blue ice creeped up the walls, wrapping around the legs of both the demons and the pitiful mortal on the floor. Valdo sobbed, trying to escape the ice but they both knew it was over. His back pressed against the wall as the ice grew, crystallising over his body, wrapping around his throat. Snowflakes fell from the ceiling, landing in his eyelashes as he struggled to breathe.
And Jaskier stole back his voice.
The final gift.
Valdo’s soul ripped from his body, and the man fell limp against the wall.
With a wave of his hand, Jaskier captured the soul, weaving his magic until a silver fox with chocolate brown eyes was nestled in his arms. He grinned, lowered the fox to the floor and then snapped his fingers to open the doors.
Before he left the elevator, his corset grew into a beautiful gown, split all the way up to his thighs, and his demonic features melted away. He patted Geralt once more on the cheek, pressing their lips together, before striding back into the foyer, not looking back at the frozen massacre he’d left behind. Beside him, a silver fox trotted along, a shadow of the man he used to be.
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johobi · 4 years
Text
Falling, Falling, Gone
Tumblr media
Word count: 5.8k
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Warnings: None really, it’s my first ‘SFW’ fic, though there is some extremely bad language in here. And there might be an erection because I can’t help myself.
A/N: This is the fourth and final ‘drabble’ for the drabble game I ran ages ago. Prompt: “The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you.”
Music inspo: Don’t Be So Serious, Baby Don’t Stop, Waste It On Me
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477485
Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection.
So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?
Banana and peanut butter become pulp in your mouth as you glare out the kitchen window. It's so grey out there. Greyer than it has any right to be. As if your dour mood has polluted the very atmosphere. Rain lashes the exterior in leaden pellets, each one compounding your headache like a rap on the head. Don't be so serious, your bluetooth speaker croons as you chew and chew, unblinking. The bridge of your glasses slip further down your nose but you don’t correct them. Don't be so serious.
Oh, but it's all so serious. 
Your final portfolio lacks in ways your mentor is incapable of articulating, and you only have so much time to fix it. Your college life is coming to a close. There are frighteningly few opportunities out there and they’re sure to spurn a sham like you. What do you do now? Where do you go from here—
"God, you listen to such depressing music," a husky voice sounds. It’s thick with sleep and horribly attractive. You hear his feet next; big and bare as they slap the tile floor and disrupt the ambience. 
Yes, dismal is an ambience. 
Before you glimpse the interloper himself, his fingers pilfer your next mouthful of toast. His other hand has your phone and is skipping through your carefully curated playlist of moody tunes. With all the scant energy you can muster, you glower at him. 
“Taehyung.” 
Soccer captain. Campus celebrity. Doofus.
Unlikely friend and unlikelier crush. But life is strange, and he is both these things. Indeed, he proclaims himself your best friend to all who will listen. As for the matter of your tender feelings, however, he is oblivious. And will remain so.
Taehyung is long-legged and limber-bodied, but round of face and feature. A kitten in a tiger’s pelt. Will mew for affection and roar when angry. Has quite literally nudged your hand for pets and raged at referees in the same afternoon. There is usually no in-between. 
Your scowl goes unseen. He sidles past like the oblivious buffoon he is and continues to tamper with Spotify.  Smears his peanut-buttered thumb around your phone display. Ugh. You brush back your hood and fix him again with extra scorn.
"Actually, douchebag, it’s good music for thinking. And I have a headache. I hardly wanna listen to something like—no, don't you dare put fucking Party Rock on right now. Tae!"
It’s too late. The lanky idiot is already gesticulating to the beginning beats. Your phone is an unreachable hostage in his flapping hands. You’re about to lunge for it but he preempts the attack by smothering you with your own hood. “Tae.” Your whining sounds all the more pitiful muffled. “Everyfing hurfs. ‘m hungover. Pleathe.” 
Taehyung relents after further, strangled pleas. Unwraps you with a grin that grows like the sunrise. For a moment, you’re dazzled. “Sorry. No more torture,” he chuckles all low, hair in his eyes. His locks are long and always untamed. An aureate crown befitting of his celebrity status. 
One swipe and he’s muted the racket and returned your phone. You turn the sticky thing over in your hands, rueing the day you met the overgrown imp. “How did you get it this dirty…?”
You go ignored and Taehyung gets closer. He scrutinises your hunched and hoodied appearance with a thoughtful hum. “Headache?” A rounded nose and two brown eyes come into focus. "Hungover? How? I didn't see you go out last night."
Averse to such study, you shy away. "Well, I did." You did not. You stayed home and guzzled $4 Prosecco while lamenting your trash portfolio. But you aren’t about to regale him with that pitiful tale. The sheerness of shame prevents you. Taehyung would be so sweet about it, too! So buoying, with his sunny smiles and fervent encouragement: "Why were you crying over that?!" He'd ask. "Your work is amazing. Seriously amazing. I love everything you do!" He'd gush. "People will be stumbling over themselves to hire you!" He'd continue, naively. And that hurts the most, because he just doesn't get it. Taehyung is a sponsored, collegiate athlete that's graduating into a guaranteed draft. He is—and always has been—praised widely as up-and-coming. The kid has had scouts scrapping for him mid-way through high school!
You, however, are small fry, swimming in a shoal of other unknowns, leaping for the hook of internship. Your dreams of animating for Disney died long back. They dwelled with Walt now.
But you don’t resent Taehyung for any of it. Ever. He’s a paragon. Born for the limelight. Has sweat and bled oceans for it. And for some reason he insists that you, too, are deserving of that same renown. Why? He’s ridiculous. Far too kind. And—Christ, he has a big dick.
"Taehyung, can you please not shove your tiny fucking penis in my face while I'm trying to eat? I'm nauseous enough as it is."
The soccer captain rests a foot on the seat next to you, giving you ungainly insight into his crotch. Taehyung, as he often, inexplicably is, is clad only in his boxer-briefs. This would be alarming were it not so goddamn commonplace. He is allergic to clothes.
According to him, he’s a naturist. 
According to you, he’s an attention whore.
Taehyung points to his elevated foot, but it's a little difficult to ignore the bulge he's brandishing. "Do you understand the concept of inappropriate proximity and your current state of undress?" You rattle on, words slurred half by OJ, half by fluster. He simply points again, and with more insistence. Relenting, you follow the line of his finger to his pretty, if gigantic, foot. Then notice the ink around his ankle, black and fresh. "Oh, wow, you got a tattoo? Cool!"
"Yep! I didn't ever really think about getting one 'til I saw yours. They were so cool I became kinda obsessed with getting one. So I finally did it last night."
‘Til he saw yours? Your stomach flutters. It's not the nausea. You smother it with more orange juice. "Well, that's awesome, Tae. You'll probably want more eventually. I would've gone with you if I'd known you were gonna go alone."
Finally, he lowers his leg. It’s a small mercy. But then, for no discernible, earthly reason, Taehyung begins flexing his many defined muscles. His calves in particular catch your attention. They’re so goddamned thick. They ripple. Fucking soccer players. "Hm? Oh, I wasn't alone. I went with some guys from the team." He ogles his reflection in the microwave door.
How can you avert your eyes when his pecs dance so compellingly? It all becomes a bit too much. "Okay, what are you doing? Seriously, what? I know you're into yourself, but this is ridiculous.” He stops. Snorts. Thank God. “If you were with the guys, why did you come back here last night? I thought you’d go back to your dorm."
Finally Taehyung sits, but he’s spread-legged and that’s perhaps worse than what he was doing just now. He’s 6ft of pure, hewn sex and just so fucking casual about it. He reclines. "Some of them took girls home last night so I needed somewhere to go and you're always an open door." Finger guns follow a cheesy wink.
You scoff, but he's right. You’d do anything for the big-hearted clown. Open door? You'd be the doormat under his soccer cleats, licking them free of dirt— "You're lucky Areum isn’t here right now. Don't think she’d take kindly to having some almost-naked oaf clambering into her bed."
"You say that, but she’s tried to hit this several times.” Taehyung is smug, brows high on his forehead. Yours lower harshly. “Tell her I slept in her bed last night. She’ll cream herself thinking about it later, I guarantee you."
“You’re gross. And can you stop—why do you keep flexing? There’s just me here.” You peer about for emphasis. Taehyung is again admiring his form in some burnished surface. “No-one is looking. Or cares.” Contrarily, you’re doing both those things. But he needn’t be privy to that. 
"This is serious. I need to work on my angles.” He contorts himself into something of a pretzel to peek at his back muscles. “We're holding a hook-up auction at our dorm to raise money for a graduation blow-out. And I'm on sale. Do you think I need to work on my back?"
You ease into a squint. "When you said serious, I thought serious words were about to follow."
"I am being serious!" Again Taehyung flexes, biceps bulging by his ears like an overfed turkey’s thighs. "How much do you think I'm worth?"
The world.
"I dunno. I'd take you for free, I guess, if you were the last one left."
Taehyung is unperturbed by your acerbic wit. It ricochets off him like rubber bullets would a muscle-bound ox. He is your greatest adversary. The bastard lacquers his lips until they’re plump and glossy and boasting a smirk. 
He’s always doing this. 
Always moistening himself. 
"Oh yeah? Well, I think you'll be disappointed." A boxy smile emerges. "I got girls and guys already approaching me about it. Some of the guys literally just wanna buy me for mentoring. I mean, that’s more effort than kissing, but—" He shrugs. The thought goes unfinished.
"That makes sense. You are a God among these mere mortals, Taetae." It's not sarcasm this time. Taehyung senses it. The grin he returns is life-affirming. You're so close to reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. Telling him you're proud. Telling him you most likely, maybe, love him. But you notice you've dragged your sleeve through peanut butter—”Ah, shit,”—and you can tell him how you feel some other day.
Some other day.
"Some of them just wanna make out too, of course, and, like, I'm happy to comply. It's all for charity." His altruism knows no limits.
"Charity, huh?" You snort. Taehyung's mouth grows more square at your incredulity. "Who else is up for bidding, then?"
"Mostly guys from the team and dorm. There are some mutuals who just wanna get in on the action, too. Uh, you know Kim Namjoon?" He measures your reaction. When you give none: "Jeon Jungkook?"
Disinterest mellows your features. "Oh, right. Cool."
"So you don't like Jeon Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes are eager, his body poised. Anticipating.
"What? No. What gave you that idea? I've talked to him, like, twice." Your face crumples as you towel your soiled sleeve. The peanut butter smears into a tragic, shit-brown stain. "Damn, that's never coming out."
"He's gonna be so disappointed. He might even cry." Taehyung heaves a hammy sigh and clutches at his breast. There’s nothing the captain enjoys more than clowning his subordinates.  "Kook likes you so much. He's really into your whole androgynous fuckboi thing you got going on. He literally said, 'She's like a mystery, man. I'm not sure if she's a girl or a guy and—like, I'm not like that, but that's hot.'"
If your eyes could roll past the bounds of their sockets, they would. "Wow, what a poet. He sounds like a douchebag and I'm even less interested now. Fuckboi? Is that really the vibe I give off?" You don't fuck full stop. Nor were you aware you could dress like you do. 
"I dunno. You just seem kinda like a gremlin to me. Or like that weird guy from Death Note," Taehyung is quick to reassure you. Cool. You’re fucking overjoyed that he perceives you that way. Not as a goddess, or his beautiful, sexy soulmate, or the princess that wanders the spires of his captive heart. No. A gremlin. Or L.
"Well, you got me there, son."
"What about Kim Namjoon?" Taehyung presses, urgent again. He picks at your bread crusts with one hand, head cradled delicately in the other. The boy could be a world-class model, too. His loose, dark curls hang like a Van Gogh nightscape, framing the planes of his unmarred face. It hurts to look at him. It hurts to be looked at.
A self-conscious shuffle. "What about him? I don't know who that is." You flick away his foraging fingers but he draws you into an impromptu game of thumb-war in retaliation. It's the only thing to extract a smile from you today.
Taehyung looks sceptical. "He's the physio student with our team! You literally talked to him all day during this season's semi-final." His lengthy digits best yours easily. But though the match is won, he doesn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he encroaches further. Thumbs your wrist. Encompasses your knuckles in a soft, warm palm. He’s clasping you like an enamoured suitor might their bashful sweetheart, and it’s very strange. What is he doing? His mind looks to be elsewhere, now.
"Uh...—oh. Oh." Yours ambles back to you. "Yeah, he was really nice, but you know my rule. No—"
"—dating in final year. Yeah, I know. I'll tell him that if he asks about you again." Taehyung has returned, too. His hand is gone. Your gooseflesh ebbs with it.
With a cough, you sober. "I think the auction's a bit stupid, really, Tae. You sure you wanna do it?"
"Stupid? Why?" He shimmies in close, smug on his face and intolerably naked the rest of the way down. His skin is hot and golden and just far too close. "You're only saying that because you're jealous, right?" He tickles your chin to keep you honest and your eyes on him. You seize and squeeze the offending hand because he might be right and now you’re embarrassed. "The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you," he goes on to say, brazen as the smirk defiling his cherubic cheeks.
"Some rather large conclusion-jumping going on there," you smile, sweet as sugared cyanide. Your vice-grip tightens until he’s pouting in repentance. "I meant it's stupid to put yourself in a potentially uncomfortable situation if you don't want to kiss that person." 
"I'm just joking!" he whimpers like the overlarge puppy he is and you free him of his snare. Because you would die for this big, soppy boy and his big, soppy eyes. “You’re so grouchy today.”
‘The joke won’t land if it collides with the truth, Taehyung,’ you muse. You expect him to know this despite never having apprised him of your situation. You’re jealous and cowardly and completely unreasonable. You want him for yourself but you never want him to know that. 
If he wants your candour he should be a telepath. Simple.
Irritated by your own nonsense, you lash out at the unsuspecting boy. "You know what? I was joking, too. I remember Namjoon, he was hot. And smart. I think I'll cheat on my dating ban this once and bid on him. He has super nice lips, so." 
Taehyung simply smiles. "Oh, okay. Cool! Glad you’re gonna come along." 
Your threat proves ineffective because he doesn’t like you like that. Wouldn’t give a shit if Namjoon rawed you on stage while you stared him down. You stall on that thought because it’s kinda hot. “It’ll be great. Can’t wait to get my tongue down his throat.”
“Hell yeah! I knew you liked him.”
Yep, Taehyung is oblivious to your pining. As he should be. Because outwardly, your pining consists of nothing more than the odd, lingering look here and there. The balled-up sketches of him he will never see. A secret smile if you’re feeling particularly sentimental. Other than that, you're steely. Poker-faced. Rarely blind-sided by his allure, especially now that you've acclimated to his penchant for exhibitionism. 
 "Thank you in advance for your patronage." Rising from his seat, Taehyung comes to a stand behind you and leans. Encircles your shoulders with his terribly athletic arms and puts his lips to your ear. You're like a feral cat in the arms of a senseless child. You're bristling. "If he turns out to be a jerk and tries something he shouldn't, I'll protect you." For a moment, you're touched enough to unclench a little. "With these guns." And then you choke between his straining biceps and vie to repay him in kind.
----
The common room of Taehyung's dorm has been crudely transformed. Some questionable construction has taken place in order to build the catwalk centrepiece. Sofas and tables line the walls, thrust from the limelight. You've occupied the drinks table for the last 45 minutes, from the second you entered this place. You harbour an intense dislike for the chaotic energy of Taehyung's dorm. Machismo rages noisily between these walls and you much prefer less testosterone-drenched environments. Nevertheless, despite it all you're here on an endeavour this evening. One your idiot, rampant mouth has obligated you to. To buy time with a guy that's perfectly nice and all, but isn’t Taehyung.
Kim Namjoon makes eyes at you from the head of the runway, awaiting his musical cue. The beer you just slurped down bubbles up. You have to look away. Unfortunately, when you do, Taehyung is immediately there, his face in yours, his thumb and fingers pulling at your cheeks. "Hey you, don't get too drunk, okay? I don't trust a single man here. Especially not nice-as-pie Namjoon." 
Nice-as-pie Namjoon has chosen some Bruno Mars track by the sounds of it. The auction-goers' excitement ramps up considerably.
Unable to move your captured face, your eyes sweep the room. "Not even your own teammates?" you scoff cynically, swatting at his hands until he’s baited into a game of slapsies. "Now who sounds jealous?" 
Taehyung stops for a moment, thoughtful. "You know, you're right. I'm extremely jealous. I want Namjoon all to myself. He gives the best massages. And a happy ending when I ask nicely." And then he's back to rough-housing you, slapping your upper arms to alternating beats. "You look cute tonight. Your outfit, I mean," he offers up out of nowhere, so quiet you almost lose it to the bass. "He's lucky."
But you look exactly the same as you did earlier that day. Exactly the same as that afternoon in the cafeteria when he ribbed you for raiding Billie Eilish's Good Will donations. "Um, thanks. I guess." You're genuine, but don’t sound it. You can't look at him for fear of revealing the dopey grin that has hijacked your face.
"You're welcome, buddy." A large palm flattens your hair. His fingers get all in there, ruffling it until it probably looks more akin a bird's nest. Is Taehyung trying to sabotage you? Also, buddy? "Look, Namjoon's walking." 
You turn and see that he is. Strutting, moreover, albeit awkwardly. It's obvious that the lanky boy is unaccustomed to the same attention the team he services is. Nevertheless, there are whoops and hollers aplenty for the handsome blonde dork, and you, too, catch yourself smiling. How can you not, when he pokes at his dimples so? The others seem captivated, too, though less by the  finger-hearts and more by his form-fitting tracksuit. 
“I’d wrap my car around a tree if he was the tree,” one auction-goer confides to her friend. “And then I’d wrap my legs around—”
“Yeah, we get it Lisa.”
Lisa quiets. 
Namjoon’s endless legs sidle to a stop at the catwalk's end, directly opposite you. His bespectacled eyes meet your bespectacled eyes. For one, long second, the interest is palpable.  But then he breaks, and casts his gaze down to his FILAs. 
"Okay, he's, like, in love with you, I think," Taehyung whisper-yells, hands aflurry in applause. "Are you gonna bid?"
Shouts puncture the cheering either side of the room.
"$10!"
"$20!"
Neither of them are you.
The evening’s auctioneer - Taehyung's partner-in-slime Park Jimin - echoes each cry that rings out, giggling into a tinny karaoke mic. "$20 for our team physio?! Is that all you got ladies and gents? Do I have to remind you this guy can grope away pain with his magic hands?"
Namjoon spins toward Jimin's makeshift podium of an upturned bookcase and menaces him with his eyes. Well, it would be menacing were the man not as threatening as a ribbon-wrapped basket of newborn sloths.
The striker backpedals. "Okay, the massage might not be included, but don't let that deter you! He kisses like a pro!"
Screams of how do you know that, Jimin?! erupt and the throng grows ever more wild. Namjoon is redder than the cup you're strangling.
"Are you gonna bid?! You're gonna miss your chance!" For some reason Taehyung is still here, harassment game still strong. He should be preparing to walk next, but sees fit to pester you instead. And because of that, he's caught you in your lie, bare-faced and blushing.
No, you are not going to bid on Kim Namjoon.
"Uh, oh no, I forgot my purse," you grumble around the rim of your next drink, gulping it down like the bottom is your way out of this God-awful situation.
Then what are you doing here?
"It's right there." Taehyung pokes the cross-body bag hanging traitorously by your side.
"Oh, is it?" You reach for another cup even while burdened with one. Anything to sidetrack this conversation.
Taehyung intervenes with a firm hand. Swaddles your knuckles ‘til the shaking stops. You’re shaking? Beer slops over the sides, unnoticed. “___?”
Stupid, warm hand. And why are his fingers so fucking delicate for a footballer? He should model jewellery. Wedding rings.
Yours.
His ringless fingers close around your wrist when you persist in avoiding his gaze. The ruse is almost up. Fuck. There’s nothing left to do but to look at him. 
You do, ever so timidly. “What?”
"What are you doing?" Puzzlement becomes him well. Why is he so goddamn handsome? "If you aren't gonna bid on Namjoon, why did you come?"
Silence, but for the pump of background Bruno Mars.
‘You. I came for you. You were the plan all along. Not him,’ your mind screams.
You, however, just stare.
"Going—going—gone! Sold for $70! Come claim your kiss!" Jimin can hardly stop himself from squealing. For a guy that beds girls on the daily, his sincere excitement over simple lip-locking is amusing.
Taehyung's teammates hail him from the drapery behind the catwalk but he won't yet go. No, he insists on searing holes into the side of your face while you watch Namjoon get sloppy on-stage with some girl you don't know. They're really getting into it. Damn, he forgot about you quick. In  their fervour they edge towards the bounds of the catwalk, too absorbed in one another to notice. Thankfully, voyeuristic bystanders are on-hand to catch them before they fall.
"Kim Taehyung! How many times do I have to call you?! Get over here before I kick your fucking ass," Jungkook roars across the hubbub, halfway through the room. He  enacts the violent gesture for emphasis and knees some unsuspecting girl in the ass. Immediately the macho facade drops and he's all doe-eyed and buck-toothed, prostrating himself before the girl who actually seems grateful to have been assaulted by one Jeon Jungkook. Between his hushed apologies, Jungkook shoots Taehyung a look something murderous. And then he sees you and throws a shy wave, the kind a little kid might when cajoled by his parents.
"Ew." The word comes up involuntarily, like bile.
A deep cackle emanates from beside you. "Okay, guess I'm up." Taehyung squares his shoulders. His mouth, too. He's a very angular boy. "Better get my kit on. Cheer for me!" With a pat to your shoulder, he makes for Jungkook. Leaves you with an insidious dread. His soccer kit is your weakness. 
No, he is your weakness.
"Next up - and I'm sure most of you here tonight are anticipating this guy - our very own Team Captain and soon-to-be Major League Soccer player, Kim Taehyung!" Banshee-shrieking reverberates at Jimin's announcement. "Stick around, he'll be out in a few minutes!"
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You turn from the catwalk and fully embrace the drinks table, supporting yourself with two hands and God's grace.
Nah, you aren't gonna do this.
No way.
This wasn’t an actual plan. Just a fantasy.
You're not gonna tell him like this.
You're not gonna tell him ever.
All you have to do is just say you turned out to support him. You rarely get to go out with him anyway, what with his ever-growing entourage. Taehyung would appreciate that, and he'd never have to know that you came here for cornier purposes.
You're not a big gesture kind of girl.
Nah, you aren't gonna do this.
Distantly, you wished Areum were here. She'd have slapped some sense into you, maybe even literally.
No. Wait.
The devious cow would've talked you into doing it. For sure. She has a flair for the dramatic.
"Sorry, can I just—thanks." Someone with offensively bony elbows bulldozes you aside and passes a drink to her companion. An apology is on the tip of your tongue but evaporates into the ether upon seeing the twosome in question. Both were complicit in the casual bullying you endured during your high school years. They don't appear to recognise you now. Not that they even spare your pitiful person a glance.
"Who's up next?" the worst one queries, cup snug to her bosom.
"Taehyung," the lackey answers, glee upending her petulant features. "Kim Taehyung."
An elbow jabs you again as the girl struggles with the clasp on her clutch. Her overlong claws impede her. "Oh shit, already? I thought we had more time. Shit."
"Nope. It's go time. Hurry up, girl, competition's gonna be fierce." The other one watches her digital acrobatics to get into her purse.
Oh God. She has so much money. There's no doubt in your mind she'll trump everyone present.
No. Oh, no.
Not her. Not with him.
Your mind flits through premonitions of the future. They’re all  rather grim. The last one is that of a wedding. A marriage between this dreadful bitch and your most cherished of friends, Taehyung. It's garish and tacky - she's denied him input, of course - and the ceremony is filled with faces that once mocked you mercilessly. None of Taehyung's friends are there; indeed, he is no longer even part of his team. Her possessiveness and his undying loyalty have put an end to his blossoming career. He looks sad beneath a mask of happy. Eyes that once blazed with the embers of ambition are doused by despondency. He is a husk.
And their first meeting is this auction, this cute anecdotal encounter of oh, I just had to have him, and when I kissed him I knew.
Just a glimpse at this dystopian future disturbs you silly. Conviction, while tentative, burgeons in your heart.
You can't let her have him. Anyone but this noxious cunt.
And suddenly you've money in hand, too. Bills you withdrew specifically for this purpose, and yet would sooner have left them crisp and cold in your purse than followed through. But public humiliation is endlessly preferable to damning Taehyung to a kiss with this serpent. Because it won't stop there. It won't just be a kiss but an appeal for more. She’ll say it’s no strings attached, but she doesn't attach strings. She weaves webs. You recall her high school boyfriend. He was a well-performing, jovial guy that always waved hi. And she consumed him, heart-first, ‘til he was naught but a sunken-eyed zombie. He took a leave of absence that never ended.
Sexy, dangerous synth sounds from the speakers either side the catwalk. Ah, shit. Not that song. Any song but that one. NCT U’s Baby Don’t Stop. Of course Taehyung picked that. It fills the air with a fatal drum beat and in he comes through the curtains, strutting like he is the rhythm. The room, rather than become uproarious, falls eerily quiet. Everyone breathes as one entranced being, and no one moves but him. Halfway down the catwalk he body-rolls with the fluidity of wind-rippled satin, burgeoning from his chest and snapping at the hips. Prospective bidders gasp, as do you. And then his thumb is in the hem of his shirt, luring it upwards, exposing his olive expanses inch by mouthwatering inch. You see his abs near every day, but in this context, backed by that song, you find yourself as winded as everyone else. His stomach tautens for show, feeding into loose-waisted shorts that sit far too low. Even you haven’t been privy to this much. And especially not the alluring trail of hair that thickens at his waistband.
Someone shatters the stupor and screams, “$80!”
“Geez, you’re a horny bunch.” Jimin’s laughter peals. “We already have $80. Any advance on—“
“$100!” Some breathless sap cries next. “Oh my God, look at his thighs!”
And look you do. Taehyung grooves at the catwalk’s end, shirt back in place but hiking up the hems of his shorts instead.  You almost glimpse groin. He’s absolutely shameless, straining the muscles of his thighs until they’re lewdly pronounced. They’re veritable tree trunks. His calves, too, defy belief. Rock-hard and rounded and begging to be bitten. The party-goers crowding round his feet must think similarly. 
What distracts you most, however, are Taehyung’s straying fingers. They skirt his crotch in a salacious manner, stretching the material where it shouldn’t. Accentuating things they shouldn’t. You may pass out.
All the while his eyes are down, maybe closed. You want to see his face more than anything. The playful smirk on his plump, wet lips and the focus in his brows. 
“$120!!” You almost lose your head to a cash-strangling fist beside you.
It's her. Pointy-elbowed bitch.
But you aren't thrusting your student loan up just yet. You're in the middle of an almost holy, revelatory experience. Taehyung is still undulating and provoking the crowd, who are no longer hushed but whooping like chimps in heat. His shirt is off and helicoptering overhead. He allows one overcome girl at the sidelines to verify the thew of his biceps and bags himself another bid. You, however, do nothing but gawp, bills clutched to your chest and your eyes affixed to the glorious grin that breaks across his face. His eyes open onto you and then it's you you see at his wedding, standing afore him, bouquet instead of a wad of cash. You want to be the one. Now is the moment, while he's watching you envision this.
"$200,” you splutter. Volume is difficult when your voice is a quivering inconstant.
"What was that? Did we just get another bid?" Jimin wavers too, out of disbelief. "Did someone say $200?!"
The room is a clamour of confusion but Taehyung watched you mouth the very syllables. The shock is such that it softens his salacious movements to a dance more modest. His eyes are wider than you've ever seen them; mouth too. It hangs agape and downturned, as yours does. Because you're not quite sure whether you said something else altogether. Maybe you hurled a cuss word out of frustration? Did you momentarily black out and proclaim Hitler did nothing wrong? Nothing else can account for the scrutiny with which he punishes you with now.
Or.
You actually did bid, and that's why he's walking over, to the very drop-off of the catwalk, no longer any swagger to his step. "What are you doing?" he calls down, the music still strong and now strangely inappropriate. You simply watch the mole beneath his bottom lip move, dumb.
Louder, now, you call again. "$200!"
"Oh! It was a bid! ____?!" The flame-haired MC shares his puzzlement with the rest of the reacting room. All heads turn toward you.
But yours turns nowhere but Taehyung, your expression an open book of long-hidden liking. You watch, suspended by dissociation, as he lays a palm flat against his chest. "Me?"
It could all still be explained away. A joke. You drank too much. You just wanted to see the look on his face. Instead, you grant him the minutest of nods. A simple tip of the chin. "You," you whisper, whether it's heard or not.
Taehyung sees it in the shape your lips make. And then his gaze sweeps back upward, his chest heaving far too much for a man standing stationary.
"What's going on?" The disgruntled echo each other.
Jimin is quick to make sense of things and keep it rolling. "Okay, so, a bid of $200! Anyone else?"
A new song comes on; it's gone on too long. Something with a cantering beat that's adequately sentimental.
So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time—
Clambering atop the platform, you counter someone's desperate bid of $220 with a measured breath. "$250." You hold Taehyung at fingerpoint. "You."
Waste it on me.
For a pants-shitting second, nothing happens. Your outstretched arm gains a tremor that could crumble it. Taehyung sifts your soul with his big, dewy eyes and then he's walking. Stalking toward you. Knocks the money from your hands and seizes your shying face with both of his. The last thing you see is his nose mole before his mouth joins with yours. His grip is like a vice and his lips are no gentler. They pry you open with little effort and then you're flooded with wet heat. Taehyung is insatiable in pursuit of your tongue. His hands drop to draw in your waist, your chest, every inch of your overclothed form. He's underclothed but burning hot, planes of honed skin beneath your fingertips. It's all so right. Feels so good. Taehyung moans that much into you when he chances a breath of air. Applause starts up as the music swells. It's so cliche but you've never had a cliche of your own before and your gloom-ridden ass needs this.
"Going—"
"I didn't know. I wish I had. This would've happened sooner," Taehyung gasps between desperate, too-short smooches. It proves too difficult to resist the pull of your mouth and he captures it again, sloppier. Slower.
"Going—"
"It doesn't matter." You pull the oxygen in, impatient. "Doesn't matter." Your fingers are a tangle at the nape of his neck, tugging on his lustrous locks. "Make up for it."
"Gone! Sold for $250!"
The two of you won't be parted for a moment. Not even when dismounting the platform. There's ruckus around you but it's so distant when his lips are on you. You sink into him like you would a scalding bath. "You don't have to pay that," Taehyung tells your cheek, smearing his saliva-slick mouth back to yours. His greed for you manifests against your stomach, and you ache in return. "This is a freebie."
Your passionate clinch takes you to the sidelines, away from prying eyes. Most of them, anyway. "What about this?" Your hands are suddenly in unseemly places.
"Th-That's also free. Everything's free. Oh, God."
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unnecessarywriting · 3 years
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Loneliness is Not an Option - Remus Lupin
A/N: Here is my last Christmas fic for this year. I hope you all enjoyed all of them that I uploaded. This is one that I’ve had on my mind for a week now. It’s short and sweet, although it starts a little angsty. It came from the song “Please Come Home for Christmas” and I couldn’t help but give a little love to Remus. Thank you all and I hope you all had a Merry Christmas!
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Loneliness is Not an Option
How do we define loneliness? Such an existential question comes with a backstory, so here it is. It was Christmas night. Yes, you had spent the holiday completely on your own, but it wasn’t Remus’ fault. It also wasn’t the fault of any of your friends. It was quite depressing how you had no one to comfort you, or send you fun Christmas cards, or even just wish you a Happy Christmas. They all had duties to the Order. You tried to join, but Remus was insistent that he keep you safe. You still participated in certain activities, but he had wanted at least one person from the friend group to live their dreams. That’s what you were supposed to be doing, except it wasn’t going as planned.
You and Remus had bought a house right out of school. You were excited to start living with the love of your life, but you hadn’t anticipated how often he would not be home. You knew it wasn’t his fault. You honestly thought that he wanted to be home with you more than you wanted him home with you. In the beginning of the holiday season, you thought that you would be lucky, but when he walked into the living with a sunken look on his face, you knew he wasn’t going to be around often. You were rightfully disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to celebrate your first Christmas outside of Hogwarts with Remus, but you understood that the war was a bit more pressing. 
The sadness didn’t really sink in until you decorated the tree. You had always dreamed of the situation being filled with laughter, playful kisses, and new memories, but that isn’t how it happened. You were alone, drunk, and singing along to muggle Christmas songs that came on the radio. It was about a week before Christmas when you put the tree up. You tried to put it off so you could decorate it with Remus, but when a letter came from him telling you that he might not be back until after the holiday, you stopped waiting and pulled out the firewhiskey. When everything was on the tree except for the star on top, you sat down on the ground. Your eyes traced over the outline of the tree, but the Christmas spirit avoided your soul. You sighed to yourself.
“This next one is a new release from the Eagles. Here is “Please Come Home for Christmas,” you heard the radio spit out. You laughed at the irony, but listened anyway. As the lyrics flowed through your ear, you felt the first tears of the holiday season start their journey down your face. You were completely alone. 
The following days, it seemed like the world was playing some sort of prank on you. Everytime you turned on the radio, you heard that song’s melody flow through your body. It was catchy, you were not going to lie, but the words haunted you as you dreamed of being reunited with your love. Christmas Eve, you sat alone in your home, thinking about Remus. You hoped he was safe, but you wanted to be selfish. Just this once. You wanted him home with you. You stared into the fire and thought back to the last Christmas you spent with him.
“Moony, stop eating all of the chocolate. Share some with me at least.” He smiled with a bit of guilt. He was like a puppy who just got caught tearing up someone’s slippers. He was absolutely adorable. You fell into his embrace on the couch.
“I can’t wait until next Christmas,” he spoke earnestly. “It will be just the two of us, in our home. We will decorate the place to be the most comforting and joyful place. And, we will have plenty of chocolate on standby. Then, we will exchange gifts, and just spend the day with each other. No one to interrupt us.” You giggled at his plans. He was simple, but he meant the best. He wanted the both of you to just have each other. You knew that it was likely that a certain group of boys would ultimately crash your day, but you weren’t complaining. You were just excited to have a future with the man who was holding you.
How naïve you two were. If only you could see yourself and tell you to not get your hopes up. Your bitterness was ruining the holiday. You wanted to turn it all off, and you did. You unplugged the lights, and took down the stockings. The tree remained in its place, but you took off the star. You would take care of the tree the following day. You then went to bed.
The following morning, you slept in. You had no reason to get up early. The rest of the day was filled with moping around the house. You looked at some of the photos that rested above your fireplace. One in particular caught your eye,
“James! Sirius! I swear, if you break anything, I will make your life a living hell. Remus, stop them. I don’t want to have to clean up after them. Thank you for being a good guest Peter, I just wish the other two would learn.” You face palmed as Lily handed you a glass of wine. 
“I would try to stop James, but he is truly impossible.” You looked at her with misery written on your face. She laughed at your expression. “On a different note, I love this place Y/N. It is absolutely gorgeous and perfect for the two of you.” 
“Thank you Lily, although I don’t think it is going to remain in one piece so long as those two are still here.” You giggled as you heard Remus try to lecture them on what it means to be a respectful guest.
“Do you think you’re gonna have everyone over for the holidays?” You thought for a moment. 
“Maybe, although I think Remus might just want it to be the two of us. I will say that if you did decide to just pop by for dinner or something, I certainly wouldn’t object,” you hinted at her. She caught on and nodded as if she was already making plans. 
“Darling, those two are impossible. I don’t know what to do.” Remus looked exhausted from trying to stop the other two. You laughed at him and pulled him in for a hug.
“Aww, did the two children break you? What was it, two hours? Lily, I think you owe me 5 galleons,” you joked. She laughed with you as Remus rolled his eyes.
Lily looked at the counter and saw a camera sitting there.
“Hey, let’s get a picture of you two to commemorate your moving in here.” You both agreed with her idea, and got ready for a cute pose. What you didn’t see was the two troublemakers sharing a knowing look. 
That photo was one of your favorites. You and Remus looked so happy. That looked changed to one of both fear and confusion as Padfoot and Prongs entered. Yes, the deer and dog made their way into one of your favorite photos. You still hadn’t fully forgiven James for almost denting your walls with his antlers. 
You walked into the kitchen that night to start cooking dinner. It wasn’t going to be anything given that you were alone, but you needed to eat something. You reluctantly turned on the radio to hear that dreaded song. At this point, you just sang along to the song that defined your Christmas. Alone, and hoping that the love of your life would return in time to end all of your sorrow and fill it with happiness. 
“You know, I think I can make the sorrow, grief, and pain disappear.” You whipped around at the sound of his voice.
“You’re home,” you said as more of a statement than a question.
“I’m home.”
“For real?”
“Yes, for real. We finished earlier than expected, and I rushed home to be with you. I promised you a Christmas featuring me, and well, chocolate. I brought both.” He had an awkward smile as he held up some chocolate.
You ran over to him and practically jumped into his arms. He held onto you as you quietly sobbed into his sweater. You had never been happier. The only sounds in the house were your quiet sobs, and the sounds of muggle Christmas music.
“Dance with me,” he muttered. You pulled away and adjusted your body as you two silently danced to the tunes. It was a peaceful bliss. Some time passed as you two enjoyed each other’s company like he promised the year before.
“You know, I told Lily that she could invade our Christmas, but now I kind of hope she doesn’t.”
“Why is that, my dear?” You looked into his eyes, and then looked at what was left of the Christmas decorations in the living room.
“Well, as you can see, there isn’t a whole lot of joy left in this room.” You were feeling a little guilty for taking down everything.
“I guess it’s a good thing that none of us really care. We just wanted to be together anyway!” Sirius was standing with the rest of the group. Everyone looked happy to be safe in the same room. You smiled and got up to hug all of them. 
Was it late? Yes, but none of you cared. You had enough room for everyone, and you weren’t about to kick out the people you desired to see most. Your night was filled with tears from the constant laughter that the group brought, firewhiskey to loosen everyone up, joyful memories that came from the dumb things you all began, and passionate kisses with Remus as the muggle tunes continued to play from the radio.
“You know, as long as I have you, loneliness is not an option. I promise that when this war is finally over, you will never spend another Christmas alone, or any holiday for that matter. I love you so much Y/N. Happy Christmas!” 
“Happy Christmas Remus. I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” You smiled as you kissed him with all of the love in the world to power it.
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