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thornfield13713 · 11 months

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Nimona prompt: Ambrosius & Ballister’s first date

Okay! Here we are - I'd put them at 16/18 for this, so quite young still, assuming they're in their mid-twenties in the show at a push - early 20s seems more likely, honestly.

Mostly movie-based, I am reading the comic, but it is slow going, this is my first time writing these characters, so...please be kind.

It wasn’t exactly a date, Ambrosius told himself, nearly vibrating out of his skin.

It was just- Him and Bal. Ballister. Going out for a meal after training, just like they always did. Okay, it was a couple hours after training this time, not just piling into the Horned Serpent with their hair still wet from the showers for nachos. It wasn’t the Horned Serpent, either, their usual place for these things, which was-

Which was fine.

Really, fine.

Not like he was going to find there wasn’t anything he could eat on the menu, be too embarrassed to say anything and end up just picking at something he didn’t even like all evening while his grandmother snapped at him for embarrassing the line of Gloreth- Not like it was going to be like those first days at the Institution, before he’d learnt to like the canteen food, or at least to mostly ignore how most of it tasted and felt in his mouth until he could almost persuade himself he liked it.

But it was cool. Pretty.

Actually, far too pretty.

It was a sort of…light, airy, open-air place. There were blooming flowers growing up the sort of wicker fence around the open-air seating area, and little string lights too. There weren’t candles on the tables, but then it was still only mid-afternoon, and candles felt like more of an evening thing-

Also more of a date thing.

And this wasn’t a date.

Just…two knight cadets. Getting something to eat. A couple hours after training.

…he’d probably dressed up too much, had he dressed up too much?

He tugged awkwardly at his collar, and wondered desperately if the cologne had been too much - he never wore it, usually, but someone had sent him a bottle for some sponsorship thing, and- Well, it had seemed like the thing to do-

In the seat opposite him, Bal looked about as awkward about all of this as Ambrosius felt, hunching in on himself in the delicate spindly seat and staring down at the table as if the cutlery might spontaneously come to life and attack them.

That…might be better, actually. Bal was the best in their class at…basically everything, after all. Jousting, sword-fighting, even the science classes no-one expected knights to ever actually need. Especially the science classes, actually. His whole face lit up whenever they got to do a practical or independent project, even when Ambrosius - always more of an arts person - couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were supposed to be doing. Or of Bal’s excited, hundred-mile-a-minute explanations.

Not that he’d ever tell Bal that, or he might stop giving them, and there was nothing in the world as wonderful as Bal in full flood about some obscure scientific idea or other that Ambrosius had never even heard of, but Bal seemed to understand perfectly.

Not that Ambrosius was bad in their lessons or anything, but- Well, he’d been training pretty much since he learnt to walk, even before the other noble-born cadets had started. He had extra training, too, because there was a standard to uphold. The last scion of the line of Gloreth couldn’t fall short of the example set by his illustrious forebears. His mother would’ve been ashamed, Grandmother always said, of a son who cried when presented with a toy sword instead of the stuffed rabbit he’d wanted-

Not that Ambrosius could know what she would have wanted, but Grandmother seemed pretty sure.

And that wasn’t- He was making it about himself, that was an asshole thing to do. The point he’d been trying to make was, if he’d started at the same time as everyone else, got the same lessons as everyone else, he’d be thoroughly middle-of-the-pack, and he knew it. And then there was Bal, who was better than- just about all of them, and worked twice as hard as any of them, and- What was he even doing with Ambrosius anyway? Sure, the other cadets were assholes sometimes, especially Thodd, who’d kept picking on Ballister long after Ambrosius had shot up a foot and suddenly stopped being so easy to pick on, but outside the Institute? Did nobody else have eyes? Or a brain? Or-

“Uh…Ambrosius? Did you…hear me, or…?”

“What-” Ambrosius shook himself. “Uh- Yeah. Yeah, I- Sorry, brain just sort of…went, you know?”

“Is it the menus?” Bal asked, his eyes doing that thing of theirs where they seemed to become twice their usual size whenever he was worried about something. “I didn’t- I mean, they’re…that is a very fancy font. I’m not even sure I can read that…”

Ambrosius hadn’t even glanced at the menu, but- Yup, that was a font. A fancy one. His stomach clenched. And Bal looked absolutely miserable, and he’d been so happy when he’d asked Ambrosius if he wanted to try a new place this afternoon, and now Ambrosius was ruining it-

“It’s cool,” he said hastily. “I’m not- It’s not that bad. Fancy fonts are…actually easier. For me. Uh…what were you…”

He could always get the same thing as Ballister. Unless there were olives in it. Which there might be, Bal liked olives.

Bal’s eyes narrowed a little, then his shoulders went back as he brought up the menu.

“Well, I sort of like the look of the…uh…I have no idea what half of this stuff is…”

Okay. So much for that idea.

Bal had got the look he sometimes got at the Institute, when Thodd was trying to start something and he couldn’t see a way out that wouldn’t land him in trouble with the Director. Bal hated winding up in trouble. So of course there was nothing Thodd liked better than getting him into situations where anything he did would land him in trouble. Ambrosius reached out across the table to catch his hand, which-

Was that too much? For not-a-date? But they’d been holding hands for comfort like this since they were kids, it would be weird to stop now.

…apparently it was weird to do it, too, because Bal’s eyes had gone even wider than usual. He was smiling, though? That was- That was probably a good sign?

“...Uh…” Bal’s smile widened a little, and he flipped over his hand to squeeze Ambrosius’. “Hi? No, wait, that is the stupidest thing I could- Um…do you…” he trailed off. “I…uh…”

“Hey.” This was- This was more familiar territory, anyway. Ambrosius knew what to do with this. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

“It can absolutely be that bad, it is that bad, why did I ever-”

“Well, just- Tell me what’s so bad, and we’ll figure it out. Together. Like always.”

If they’d been sitting side-by-side, Ambrosius would’ve bumped his shoulder against Bal’s. Opposite each other like this, he had to make do with squeezing his hand again.

For a moment, Bal looked stricken, and then he swallowed.

“Right. Right. Okay. Together. Sure. I can do that. We can do that,” he corrected. “Um. So…you know how I said we should grab a bite to eat after training today?”

“Yeah…?”

They were here because Bal had said that, and honestly, it was starting to feel like they’d both have been happier if they’d just gone to the Horned Serpent like always instead-

“That was, um…” Bal shifted awkwardly. “Because I was…trying to…suggest that you…and me…that we…uh…”

He was staring very fixedly at the tablecloth now, which was kind of weird, as it was just plain white, no patterns or anything.

“...Bal?”

“Thatweshouldgoonadate,” Bal finished, all at a rush like if he took a breath he’d lose his nerve. He let out a long breath. “Uh- If you want to, I mean. Not that- I mean, of course you don’t want to, that’d be- I’m sorry. This was- This was a bad idea-”

He started getting up hastily, knocking the table a little, and Ambrosius followed suit, reaching for him even as Bal tried to pull his hand away.

“It wasn’t. A bad idea,” he said quickly. People were staring at them, and it was- It was bad, but- It also made it easier, a little. The line of Gloreth couldn’t falter when there was an audience to impress. That was his duty to the kingdom, after all. Okay, the line of Gloreth wasn’t supposed to date commoners either, but- Once Ballister had his knighthood. Once he’d proven to everyone that he was just as good - was better than all the other, noble cadets in the Institute. Maybe then they could be open about it, and people wouldn’t be able to say that Ballister only got to be a knight at all, was only top of their class because Ambrosius was going easy on him, as if he wasn’t brilliant, and brave, and harder-working than any of them, all on his own.

He sat down, half-dragging Ballister down too, into the opposite chair.

“When you asked, I was-” he swallowed, and dropped his voice a little lower. “I was hoping you meant that. A date. I mean…” he tried to smile, the bright, sponsorship-friendly smile, the one people loved. “I got all dressed up for you and everything…”

“It looks great,” Ballister said, apparently reflexively, his eyes enormous and shining with something far, far too delicate. Ambrosius felt, abruptly, terrified. The sort of terror he felt balancing one of his grandmother’s fine blown-glass baubles on his head for posture practice, the certainty that one wrong move would break this beautiful, perfect thing, and there would be no putting it back together.

His fingers curled a little tighter against Ballister’s. “Y-yeah.” He laughed, a little nervously, a habit he’d trained himself out of around anyone but Ballister. “I- You too!”

He hadn’t- Ballister couldn’t really dress up the same way, because he only really had his Institute uniform that fit him, but he was- It looked like it had actually been pressed. Probably last night. Probably by hand - that was why he’d been late getting back to their dormitory. And why he’d been so cagey about it, even though Thodd had been sound asleep on the other side of the room and even the monster alert sirens weren’t enough to wake him up once he was out.

“Oh- Uh. Thank you. I mean, it’s not much, but…” Ballister glanced down at himself, a little bashful, and Ambrosius beamed. He couldn’t help it. The thought that Ballister had wanted to impress him, as if he had to do more than just be there for that- As if Ambrosius wouldn’t have been just as delighted in their usual booth at the Horned Serpent.

“I was going to…I mean, I heard this place was…” Bal trailed off. “Uh…Do you know what fancy foods are called?”

“Some of them.” Ambrosius paused, but- It was Ballister. Who’d never made fun of him, not even when they’d been kids, and Ambrosius had been short and knock-kneed and so scrawny he’d rattled in his training armour, before he’d put on height and muscle and the other extra training had begun. “...if you read out what they’re called to me, I can probably say what they are…”

“Oh, good. That’s at least one of us knows what…” Bal squinted at the menu, an expression of deep suspicion flitting briefly across his face, before coming back and setting up camp there. “Uh…does this actually say fish eggs?”

“Probably.”

“...who eats fish eggs?”

Ambrosius shrugged. “No-one who likes their tastebuds.”

“And- Oh. Oh, wow. That’s…they’re offering something called Goldenloin steak.” He lowered the menu, a comically affronted look on his face. “With olives.”

Ambrosius shrugged. “Yeah. That’s merchandising for you. You’ll have to deal with it yourself soon enough.” He grinned. “The greatest knights of a generation usually do.” And also Ambrosius. Because he was of the line of Gloreth, and that meant you got ‘greatest knight of a generation’ privileges even before you could properly joust.

It was hard to be sour about that, though, with Bal ducking his head behind the menu, nearly glowing with the force of his blush. He didn’t try to argue that wasn’t where he was headed, though. Bal might not be the bragging type, but he didn’t do false modesty either. He knew exactly how good he was. Which. Just made it more surprising that he wanted to go on a date with Ambrosius, whose biggest achievement so far was just…getting born to the right family and not being a complete embarrassment to them, but-

It was hard to cling to that, either, with Bal looking at him like that. Like Ambrosius had waved a wand and made all his wishes come true with just a few words.

Suddenly, he wanted nothing less than to be here, in this fancy restaurant, with far too many eyes still on them. They hadn’t even ordered anything yet, neither of them knew half of what was on the menu, and Ambrosius wanted-

He wanted one of the fascinating weird little holes-in-the-wall that Bal knew like the back of his hand. None of the rest of their cohort would even know where to look for the Horned Serpent, or the little ice-cream stand on a shabby corner that did the best salted caramel he’d ever tasted in his life. He wanted somewhere no-one would look twice at them, where he could hold Bal’s hand and- and kiss him, why not? And no-one would so much as bat an eye, because what would Ambrosius Goldenloin, last of the line of Gloreth, be doing in a place like that anyway?

“Do you…want to get out of here…?” he asked, half-expecting Ballister to look disappointed or upset - he’d chosen the place, after all. Instead, all Bal looked was desperately relieved.

“Nothing more.”

Ambrosius grinned at him. “Ice-cream sound better?”

“Rico One-Eye’s Stand?”

“You’ve read my mind.”

They couldn’t hold hands on their way out of the restaurant. There were still all those eyes, and Bal’s position at the Institute and in the public eye was tenuous enough without anything that could possibly smack of his getting special treatment, even if Ambrosius was just another student, no older or more senior than Ballister, who shouldn’t have been able to get him any special treatment at all.

But if they bundled up in outdoor cloaks they could cuddle up together on the Underground out to the cheaper part of town, and then there would be ice-cream, and sunshine, and Bal’s fingers on the shaved part of Ambrosius’ head as they kissed, gripping like he’d never let go.

#nimona

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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Untitled (“Your border were the”)

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perishable; until again— again undoing much to early taint the Knight, who gazettes; but follow’d from the best partake off shoes far away, spreads or foes, the uninitial-scarred to guessing stops her idiot boy.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #215 texts #ballad

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fumingspice · 3 years

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andante

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Prompt: oK so how about like?? Delia x reader and they're both in love af but they think the other has no feelings for them so they're both tripping over themselves to make the other love them and then madison comes in and she's just like 'stop being dumb' and they finally realise how much the other loves them.

I’m sorry but my ed crept back in and im not horny enough to put more thought into writing so just ignore the massive time skip at “---”. enjoy, you strange people xo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*(*❦ω❦)*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's crazy. Falling. You see? We don't say "rising into love". There is in it, the idea of the fall. And it goes back to extremely fundamental things. That there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk is the condition of there being life. You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble...

Between Cordelia Goode's ears were pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts. Brown eyes were never really your favourite until you saw them on her. You knew yourself that somehow, over the years you got to know Cordelia; working with her, befriending her, carrying her home from the bar one night when she got far too drunk, letting her cry into your shoulder when her job became too real and she could feel her mother's words hanging over her head.

When you started falling for the woman with those beautiful brown eyes.

Somehow, her eyes were now your favourite colour.

Not brown- brown wasn't simply the word for the colour. Cordelia's eyes were the colour of aged whiskey. Sometimes they were the only two safe shots of tequila that you could see. Sometimes they were a beautiful milk chocolate dotted with exposed honeycomb. Once when she had asked you to help her decorate the garden for the Summer Equinox- she had given Zoe enough money to take the girls on a field trip for the day so she could give the girls a little party. You stood watching her in her denim shorts and her white button up. When she had stepped back and put her arm around you to admire both of your handy work you could have sworn her eyes were glowing like fresh magma.

Her hand lay on your waist a split second too long.

You had fallen in love with the Supreme.

"Yo, bitch!" Madison Montgomery's usual entrance phrase disturbed you from your imagination. You raised your brow and smirked.

"Yes, Madison?"

The blonde took her sunglasses off her face and closed them with a slight snap. "The girls want to know if you wanna come to play Pysch! with us," she said. Her lips were curled in what could almost be described as a friendly smile. You were one of the few honoured to know that under Madison's bitchy white girl facade there was actually a very sweet someone lurking under there.

You thought for a moment and put your pen down. "I won't be long- I just have to log these last few names and I'll be there," you tell her. Madison rolled her eyes and waved her hand, the pen lifted itself and wrote the last thirteen names within seconds. "You're done. Let's go, Y/N."

Madison didn't even give you a minute to say anything before she walked out of the room. "Come on, bitch. Don't make me use my powers!" she called from the hallway, finally motivating you to move.

The girls sat in a circle in Zoe's bedroom. Lights off. Candles lit.

Zoe, Queenie, Mallory, and Coco were indulged in their phones for the game. Madison turned to you and held up her phone to show you the question. "What is Zoe's deepest, darkest secret?" she read. "You gotta answer it and the person with the most votes wins. It lasts for ten rounds and it can be fucking hilarious."

Zoe's face was red with laughter at the answers. "She's not actually a witch- that's not even funny," she gasped through cackles. She then sobered slightly. "She likes to watch Danny Devito movies while masturbating and screaming 'I am a dirty man'."

Madison was the only one who chortled at that.

You joined the game and got your best answers ready in your head. "If Madison got arrested tomorrow what would it be for?"

Madison rolled her eyes and muttered something about knowing exactly what everyone was about to answer. You smirked slightly, sensing her slight apprehension.

Prostitution.

Murder. Third-degree.

Fucking up the brakes on a bus full of frat boys.

Public Nudity.

"Gosh, you're so original," she muttered, glaring right at Zoe, who just shrugged.

"It's the rules of the game, bitch. Go all in, don't get offended," she replied.

The game pinged for the next question.

"What is on Y/N's mind right now?"

Coco gave a loud "Ha!" and typed quickly, along with the other girls who were all typing as quickly as possible to get their answers in first.

A quiet knock came from the other side of the door and Cordelia poked her head around. "Sorry to interrupt, girls. Y/N, could I borrow you for a moment?" she asked, voice sweet and angelic. You bounced up as soon as she finished the sentence and obliged straight away. You were met with a sweet smile.

Madison flicked her brows. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, winking at Delia's slightly confused face. As you left, your phone pinged to announce the results just before you left the game.

Cordelia 🥵🥵🥵

Delia. I ship it <3

Getting knuckle deep finger fucked by the HWIC

French fries

You quickly shut off your phone screen before Cordelia could see.

"What's the matter, Delia?" You asked, practically skipping alongside her. There was a vibrant air of satisfaction between you.

Cordelia shook her head, her blonde hair bobbing with her movements. “I just wanted to know if you’d like to go out.”

You felt your heart stop. “Go out?”

Cordelia looked hurt by the confusion on your face.

“Yes. Would you like to join me in the garden?”

“Oh,” you realised, slightly disappointed. “I would love to.”

---

"For the love of Hades. Right, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything because I have some understanding that lesbians are fucking useless because of the fear of appearing to be predatory because the media is an asshole,” Madison continued. “But I don’t really think any of us can eat at this table anymore without choking on the fucking sexual tension between the both of you.”

Cordelia looked shocked. “It’s not that-”

“I’m a fucking mindreader! You do get that I can fucking hear the things that you say in your head about what you want to do to Y/N? I’m one gutter minded bitch and not even I’m creative enough to come up with that shit while I’m eating my fucking apple turnover!”

You blushed hard and chuckled.

Madison’s neck snapped towards you. “Oh, and don’t getting me fucking started on you! Do you know how fucking unsanitary it would be to carry out your little fantasies of fucking Cordy on the kitchen counter? Not even for us but the amount of fucking crumbs that would work into your nooks and crannies would be like trying to spring clean Myrtle's fucking hair! "

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cordelia chuckled nervously. Her face turning a shade of red. “I’m sure Y/N’s got plenty of better options.”

Madison dropped her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. “God, you bitches are going to put fucking years on my skin.”

“Oh, give me a break, Madison.”

Cordelia stumbled foward slightly, having been tripped up by some unseeable force and sending her tumbling into you. Her hands lay against your chest for that split second too long once more.

Your lips parted for a moment and your breath hitched as you both watched Madison smirk and leave the room. It felt like your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. You surroundings were unnoticable to you now; replaced by unidentifiable whirls of colour and light. Your hand rested flat on Cordelia’s cheek. It was different this time. Not the spark, that had been there every time you touched. It was the fact that you were both too slow to ignore the ignition that started in your chests.

You saw her eyebrows falter from their previously confident expression, like all of her preparation and barriers and walls had fallen down and she was too slow to replace them. Cordelia pursed her lips, presumably trying to figure out what she should say to you. Again, she was too slow as you inhaled sharply and thrust yourself forward to catch her lips.

Delia was quick to mould herself to the curves of your front, hands falling to the small of your back on a collision course as she backed you into the dining room table. You smoothed your hands over the contours of her jaw, her collar bones, breasts, hips like you were a master pianist playing a brilliant concerto. Her body was the only instrument you longed to play; her moans the only melody that you longed to draw from her.

As her lips glided across your own, everything came together like pieces into place. You thought back one of those late nights in the kitchen. The way Delia’s fingers had so enthusiastically laced through yours during the late night in the kitchen when you had both stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking about life. How the witch had turned the radio on and taken your hand while you danced to some song by REO Speedwagon. Twirling you through the night. “Can’t fight this feeling” was the song. Ironic, now that you thought about it. It seemed as though fighting her feelings was what she had been doing the entire time.

She twirled you around in the light of the dim television and the refrigerator when the songs were upbeat, even going as far as dipping you and pulling you up again. Bare thighs against your own in her shorts and oversized shirt. When the songs that were played were slower, she was more gentle. Until eventually you swayed in a slow two-step, your head against her chest, and hers against yours. The air was thick with something pure. Something untouched.

You had no idea why you ever just thought this was something two best friends did. More so, you had no idea why you didn’t lean back and dip into her lips and allow your souls to dance the waltz that they were so clearly destined for.

Cordelia’s thumb and finger lay on either side of your jaw as she continued to kiss you as if her soul depended on it. Her fingers interlocked with yours against the table.

She broke away, tears had fallen down her cheeks and made your heart melt. “Oh-ho,” you chuckled, mouth agape at her sight. “Why the tears, my love?”

Cordelia laughed, wiping away her tears. “I’ve longed to do that for so long,” she replied. “So, so long.”

You chuckled at her sweetness and the display of pure love that you were so unaccustomed to.

“I fell in love with you, Y/N. I don’t think I will ever stop falling in love with you. You’ve created this storm of beautiful chaos in me,” she continued. “Do you remember that night where I was really sleepy, so you let me just stay in your room? How I had fallen asleep on top of you by accident and you wrapped your arms around me and hummed a lullaby?”

You nodded, remember the feeling of waking up with the Supreme in your arms.

“I was wide awake,” she told you. A delicate smile arose.

You chuckled into her touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you replied, drawing her closer, her blonde hair twirled in your fingers. “I know you were.”

#ahs #ahs imagines #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #lana winters #lana winters x reader #sally mckenna #sally mckenna x reader

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heauxzenji · 4 years

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I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby

#daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kita haikyuu #kita x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #hq headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu hcs #hq headcanon #hq writing #hq scenario #haikyuu x y/n #hq x gn!reader

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octania · 4 years

Text

Benimaru Shinmon x Reader / Obi Akitaru x Reader ( S/O’s birthday)

Words count: 2.4 k

Warnings: NONE , Just that you may fall hard for this two guys 😂

Short descriptions: What would Obi and Benimaru do for your birthday to surprise you like no other.

________________________________________________________

Obi Akitaru

Obi is a hyped mess when it comes to your birthday. To be perfectly precise, he starts his adrenaline planning a whole week before. He gathers all the information, that he had carefully stored in his mind due time, about what you enjoy the most, what are your hobbies and preferences. He writes the most important things down in the beginning of, what he calls, your birthday week. The list goes from the little things like your favorite color, favorite food, flowers, books, places, all the way to your dreams and plans for the future. He takes every single thing on that paper seriously and marks them as highly important and also as a guide to your perfect surprise.

Everyone knows that the birthday week planning is starting, they learned it the hard way last year. Don’t be fooled, he did not bother no one by asking for help, actually he tried to do everything by himself, but you can imagine how dealing with a mile long list of your wishes can be more then overwhelming. Hinawa actually found the poor guy sleeping in the garden when he was putting up the lights to decorate it for your romantic dinner that would take place after the party that he also organized single-handedly. His head resting on the white fence, body all covered in wires that had small light bulbs on it, hair messy with traces of flower-shaped- confetti he sprinkled on the grass from the main entrance of the garden, all the way to a nicely decorated table for two where you would have your romantic meal. When Hinawa got closer, he noticed that on the wires of the lights there was something else, some pieces of paper hanging from it. He leaned, peaking, trying to read what was on it. Turned out your man Obi wrote down all the things you made him feel for you, all the things he adored about you and all the things he thinks you made better for him. After that, all the members of the squad insisted they help him next time, and with a charming smile he always has, he agreed and thanked them.

Obi is defiantly a “surprise party” kind of guy. He adores the stunned expression on your face, almost melting like ice in the sun when he sees your cheeks firing up and corners of your lips curled in a shy smile when you walk in the room themed with your favorite things, full of your friends holding gifts and welcoming you with a cheerful singing of the traditional Happy birthday song. Looking around you and seeing how detailed and crafty the room is decorated with the things you adore, a combination that you could not find even on web sites, makes you glare with pride on your boyfriend, who wants nothing more than your happiness and satisfaction with things he had done for you.

He would be beside you every moment of the party, making sure you are having the most unforgettable time of your life, being a queen of this event, and your king has you wrapped around his muscular arm at all times. Even when you tell him quietly that he did not have to go through all this trouble for you, he would spin you by the hand, landing you between his arms and on his firm chest, lifting you up by gripping your legs, making you to wrap them around his waist, then he kisses your collarbone, closing his eyes and resting his head under your chin, whispering to you – “How can you say that? I love you (Y/N), and of course I will celebrate the day you were born, because in that moment the other half of me came to this world. I would celebrate every day as this one, because I managed to find you, my soul mate.”

You would stand frozen, staring at a mountain of boxes of all sizes, wrapped in colorful paper with bows on the top. How many gifts do you think is possible to buy in one week? More than you could count….. Obi takes nothing by chance, and after roaming in every store that he thought contained something you would find amusing, nice, cute, he will get it. He got even the things that reminded him of you, and the things that were reminding him on your intern jokes or situations you two were in together and they were dear to him. The only thing he refused to buy is a big teddy bear. Once you have told him that hugging him reminded you of hugging those enormous plushy bears and when he leaves you will put his shirt on one of them so you can hug it while he is gone so you don’t miss him, he vowed that the day will never come. But not because he was jealous on the toy, it is because he never wanted to allow you to be lonely and missing him. Buying that bear would mean he admits the day when you will be alone with that stuffed material would come, and there is no way he will let that happen. You sleep right on top of him, while he embraces your whole body with his strong arms, pulling you close so he can hear your every heart beat, making sure you feel his too, letting you know you will never again be alone, you two are one soul in two bodies.

You should bear in mind that the party is not over when the guests leave. Obi would kiss your hand, closing the door after the last person, leaning over you and locking you between his wall of flesh and the door. “I have one more surprise for you, babe.”- his whispers would sink deep into your core, making you shiver when he rest his hands on your waist, squeezing it lightly, massaging it in slow circular motions, while he nibbles on your earlobe. Suddenly, he would pick you up by surprise, carrying you while whispering sweet nothings along your neck, opening the door of his room. Well..not only his anymore. The single person bed is now replaced with a king sized one, and a new and wider wardrobe is placed next to the older and smaller one. You heart race as you see the scented candles illuminating the room with their dim glow. Blue and white orchids are spread out along the bed, and some around it. You turn, looking at him. His face red, smiling but he can’t hide how nervous he really is. He stutters the first few words, but then clears his throat and finishes his question with a tone filled with dedication. “ Move in with me (Y/N). I can’t stand going away from you in the morning any more..I can’t stand calling this house a home any longer, because it is a lie. Until we are living under the same roof, nothing will feel like home to me. So, please (Y/N), will you stay with me?”

Benimaru Shinmon

You thought Beni looked gloomy before when he took his usual stroll along the streets of Asakusa, but you have seen nothing until he realized a big day is coming up, and he had absolutely no idea how to make it special. Well, at least nothing seemed good enough to him. He had no experience in this area. Sure, he cared for Asakusa, he admired and respected Konro, he liked the twins, but nothing got so deep in that mans chest as you did. So, the same usual treatment when it came to birthdays, to give them something nice and congratulate them, have a nice dinner and go to bed after, was out of the question.

You were his first girlfriend. He had chances, that is more than obvious, but no one caught his eyes except you, and for the first time, he felt a deep and sincere obligation, or better yet, desire, to show you how much you fascinate him and how differently he sees you from all the rest. In the end, he wanted to express his love for you. Given the fact he was a man of few words, literal meaning of showing is what was left. Telling you how much he cared did not seem special enough, he believed in actions. You can’t just tell a woman that you love her, stupid, you got to prove it.

Konro, like he had some sort of tracker device installed in him to detect Benimaru’s worries, found out what has been troubling the young captain fast enough. He found it almost adorable, but there is no way he would say that in front of Waka. So, he carefully tried to give him a few advices as always, not being pushy, just helpful. But this time, something unusual happened. Normally, Beni would either listen and say nothing after Konro’s advice, or he would straight up get up and leave, showing how uninterested he is in the matter. But not this time, no. This time, he asked questions. Pointing out his concerns and specifically what he wants to achieve. Konro was puzzled, shocked to say at least. Realizing how deep Benimaru’s emotions are for you, he could not help but smile, messing the young man’s hair like he was a little boy, giving the advice that Benimaru found so useless and cringey at first, his eyebrows narrowed and his face became one big expression of dissatisfaction. “Present her the ways of your heart.” – Seriously Konro? That is all you can give me?

At first, Benimaru had no idea what that meant, but soon enough he realized the meaning when his endless walks took him to the right place. By accident, he stumbled upon a meadow covered with tall grass dancing in a light breeze. He gazed upon the peaceful place, admiring the view he didn’t even notice at first because of how deep he was in his thoughts. Turning around, he noticed a couple of more things that left even him breathless, and now he knew exactly what he wants to do.

The tender touch of his fingers woke you up. His mismatched eyes glowing with a smooth red light as he gazed upon your sleeping face. Gently caressing your cheeks, he planted a kiss on your forehead, picking you up from the bed without a word, carrying you outside. The clouds were light blue, it was still dark, but it was almost morning. Confused and still half asleep, you murmured some questions about what was he doing and where is he taking you, but he said no word, he just took one of the brigade's matoi, standing on the pole with you still in his arms, and you two took off when he used his Second Generation ability, controlling the flames of other ignited matoi and direct them to a certain place. You held tight, watching the sleeping homes of Asakusa beneath you.

A golden glow on the tender grass, wind filled with soft petals of sakura flowers, and a view of mighty mountains made you believe Benimaru took you to heaven itself. You could not find the words fast enough when he started walking to the end of the meadow. You realized you were close to the cliff, when he knelt, placing you on the ground, while he was still standing. “Beni?”- you asked, but no answer, he just turned, continuing to approach the cliff dangerously close. Too close. He jumped.

Your heart sank deep as a hysterical scream escaped your lips. You were paralyzed, could not move or breathe as you watched him disappear. But before your heart stopped from this shock, a raging flame arouse from the depths of the abyss, rising like two wings of the phoenix, painting the already stunningly colored morning sunrise with the art of his flames. Benimaru’s body appeared seconds later, as he was again standing on his matoi, traveling through air, leaving the shapes made of fire behind him. First it reminded you on fireworks, endless explosions of breathtaking colors spreading on the sky’s canvas, but this was different. The more you stared at the flames, the more sense they made. They had shapes. Shapes of people, of houses, they were even words you could now clearly read. His fiery creations appeared faster, almost like they were moving, having a life of their own. Tears started falling down your cheeks as you finally realized what you were looking at. He was telling you a story. A story of how you two first met, how you two fell in love, and how much you mean to him.

You sobbed while Benimaru continued to paint his tale in the rosy clouds, giving them the golden edges with his fire, looking like an angel surrounded with such glow that was out of this world. He found a perfect way to express his feeling, his determination for you. There were no words or gifts on this world that could be measured with this. When the last string of fire disappeared from the face of the sky, letting the orange sun to take over and illuminate the scene, he landed right in front of you. He knelt , bowing like you were a queen and he was your loyal general, placing his face in your hands that were resting on your legs. He inhaled deeply, collecting the scent of his one true love before he spoke in a calm voice filled with emotion. “Before you (Y/N), my canvas was empty..Now, there are more colors on it that I even knew existed…I hope you understand what I am trying to say..”- he clenched the material of your night gown in his hands, lifting his head to meet your watery gaze. He brushed his cheek against your, leaving the vibrations of his next words on your skin. “Your existence, is a reason for mine.”- he pressed his warm lips on yours, wiping your tears with his fingers. “Happy birthday, (Y/N)… and know this day is the most important one for me.”

#benimaru shinmon #obi akitaru #fire force #enen no shouboutai #benimaru x reader #obi akitaru x reader #benimaru shinmon x reader #benimaru shinmon headcanons #obi akitaru headcanons #enen no shoubotai headcanons

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

Better Love - cth

part three: the longing

summary: Calum and Maeve get to know one another, in more ways than one.

author’s notes: I’m nervous about this one. Enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of food, oh and smut.

masterlist || request || join my taglist!

part one || part two

I confessed the longing I was dreaming of Some better love, but there's no better love Beckons above me and there's no better love That ever has loved me, there's no better love

In her dreams, Maeve always saw a future that made her warm. She saw hills of green and trees that swayed with the wind. She'd always go there, sometimes it'd be a few weeks before she'd show back up in her dreamland, but it was always the same place, a house surrounded in green and blue. She'd felt someone's presence, never enough to see them or recognize who they were, but she knew she wasn't alone in her dreams. She felt safe there with the strange presence, felt the warmth of them and the love they had for her. When she was young, she had thought it was her parents, but as time went on and Maeve's dreams stayed the same, she knew it was someone she was yet to meet.

Even now, as she slept, she felt that same warmth enveloping her.

Maeve’s eyes snapped open as she heard a snore behind her. The light from outside had blinded her for a second and she’d let out a groan. Usually, in her dreams, the warmth would leave her as her brain woke her up and her eyes slowly opened. This time, however, the warmth was still there. She felt it in her stomach and all down her spine, the familiar presence of it making her think for a second she was still in her dreams and that she’d wake up any minute to feel it leave her. As the bedroom came into focus, the large window next to her letting in soft daylight, that warmth remained and it wasn’t until she felt an arm around her pulling her closer that she remembered the events of the night her trip changed forever.

“The bridge collapsed?” Calum asked confused and walked over to stand next to her, his bra ahh hitching as he looked out at the stone bridge, “Holy shit.”

“What’re we going to do?” Maeve asked shakily, her eyes staring out in awe, “That’s the only way back. W-we’re stranded here with no power and no way to contact anyone about what’s happened!”

“Maeve, deep breathes,” Calum said as he reached out and slowly placed his hands on the sides of her arms, “Hey, look at me, I promise, it’ll be okay.”

With a deep breath, Maeve relished in the warms of Calum’s touch, leaning into it as she tried to calm her racing mind. He was right, it would be okay, the power would eventually come on once the storm passed, and then they would be able to call someone for help. All they had to do was wait for the storm to pass and then they’d get help.

All Maeve had to do was survive a night with an incredibly handsome art history professor, a looming interview that could change her life, and a storm that seemed to have destruction on its mind. Calum's hands were still on her arms, squeezing them gently as he tried to ground her back into the moment at hand. If it had been any other situation, one in which Calum was more than a stranger and Maeve wasn't stuck in a cabin with him, she would have been flustered. But the view of the bridge outside of the window, looming in the distance as if mocking how her brain felt, kept her unannounced attraction towards the stranger attempting to calm her at bay.

“Okay, I…it’s going to be okay,” she breathed out after taking a couple more deep breathes, “I guess we just unofficially became roommates.”

The next two days had been spent in one another's company. Once the storm had settled and the drizzle had lulled the forest into a peaceful sleep, Calum and Maeve had spent most of the night huddled up in the living room, finding out more and more about one another. They talked about a lot that first night, both of them wanting to be absolutely positive that the other was not a serial killer with extreme patience. But there seemed to be something they were both hiding, a small snippet of the truth that both were too scared to share. It wasn't until the inevitable concept of having to sleep crept closer and closer that they both glanced back at the only bed around for miles.

"I'll take the couch," Calum nodded, "You were here first so it's only fair."

"But you'll be cold," Maeve mumbled, "The fireplace will only give you so much heat before it dies out in the middle of the night and you wake up frozen."

"Another good reason why you should take the bedroom then," Calum chuckled and shook his head, "I don't mind, really."

"We could just share." Maeve said, surprising herself with the forwardness of her voice, "Body heat and all, you know?"

"Are you sure?" Calum asked, his eyebrow raising as he watched the flush on Maeve's cheeks grow.

"Positive, now come on, I'm exhausted."

They'd each picked their side of the bed, opting to stay as far away from the middle of the mattress as they both could. The sound of a drizzle hitting the roof and windows around them made the quietness of the bedroom a little calmer, both of them too aware of the other in bed to really drift off. But eventually, the drizzle lulled them both, into a warm and quiet sleep. A sleep where Maeve felt the warmth from her dreams and Calum felt the ache of his hike.

The following morning, when both of them woke up in each other’s arms was…awkward to say the least. Calum had woken up first, his arm numb and his brain having trouble catching up to where he was and why he had another body on top of him. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the large window next to the bed, shining a soft light over the entire room. The morning air was still chilly, leaving an ache in Calum’s joints and instinctively making him pull Maeve closer to him. It wasn’t until he heard Maeve stir that he realized exactly what they’d done. As the storm passed, the rain leaving the ground soft and muddy, Maeve and Calum and drifted closer and closer. Acting as the full moon and ocean tide, they ended up in one another’s warmth, starring far apart and gravitating towards each other.

That morning, they’d both spent time apart, walking around the small property where the bridge had left them isolated from everyone else. Calum had spent most of that day outside, his journal tucked safely in the pocket of his rain jacket, walking through the woods and hoping that the next couple of days before their host, whatever her name was, could find a way for them to get back. The first few days were spent like that, both of them stealing glances at the other while trying to distract themselves from the view of the broken bridge, the view of their separation, and the fact that they were both stuck with one another. Mornings were usually spent in silence, both too afraid to move from one another’s arms, trying not to wake the other up. They were spent looking out the window, watching the trees sway and the colored leaves flicker off the branches and onto the river below. Maeve, who had become used to the warmth of Calum’s body next to hers every morning, had spent mornings pretending to be asleep in the hope that Calum wouldn’t pull away from her and leave her cold. Calum, who knew Maeve had woken up minutes before, spent his mornings hoping that she wouldn’t move out of his arms, his face finding comfort in the crook of her neck. Mornings were quiet and hesitant, soft touches that both of them thought about during the rest of the day, hoping to wake up in one another’s arms once again. The nights were a different story. As the sun lowered into the sky, leaving streaks of gold, pink, orange, and red; Calum and Maeve found themselves huddled together. Sometimes Maeve would read out loud, her book telling the history of the clans that used to call the Highlands their home, and sometimes Calum would put on one of the old records that had been left behind in the cabin. Those were Maeve’s favorite nights, Calum’s too, when the music echoed from the walls and the both of them laid under the shared fur blanket, watching the darkness of the sky from their favorite window. It was when the sun went down and the cold settled in that Maeve and Calum got to really know one another.

One night, when dinner had been quiet, both too lost in their own heads to really say much. Their conversation changed, from the usual small talk that had been shared during the day, to something more. The world was teasing them both, the candle-lit dinner they shared one of the first either of them had ever had a candle-lit dinner. Calum liked to think he was a romantic at heart, but he couldn't recall a time where he and his fiancé, well ex-fiancé, would've ever had a dinner like this. Maeve hadn't ever had a date with James like this, not that this was considered a date, but theirs had always ended up with cheap takeout and a studying session. This felt different, it felt calm and the quiet surrounding them never turned awkward or tense. It was comforting.

"So, what's your story?" Calum asked softly, "I mean, I know you said you have an interview with the university but...well, what're you running from?"

Maeve tensed at the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied the man in front of her and wondered if he truly could read her like that. Had she been that obvious about wanting to escape her crowded city life? Had everyone she'd encountered known she belonged in the countryside where she was born, never to be able to thrive in a bustling city? Or did Calum, who seemed very much like herself, run away to Scotland too.

"I...I guess I just needed to find myself and I thought that Scotland would be that place for me?" Maeve shrugged, her eyes looking down at the glass of whiskey in front of her, "My parents met in Edinburgh, they road tripped around the entire country together, and fell in love here."

She looked back up at Calum, who watched her intently, his eyes focused on her eyes, watching as Maeve tried to look everywhere but his. With a sigh, and another sip of the bitter whiskey that made her blood warm, Maeve continued on with the story. How her small town had been a bore to her but the second she had left she'd missed it like hell. That no matter how much fun she'd found in the big cities she'd traveled to, nothing made her feel like home. How this was supposed to be a way to get rid of the aching feeling in her chest and that maybe she would find something here in Scotland that the rest of the world hadn't shown her yet. She didn't miss the way Calum's shoulders tensed as she explained the situation with James and how she'd never truly felt love for him.

"And what about you? Why did the university professor run away?" Maeve asked quietly, her eyes finally meeting his across the table.

Maeve listened to Calum, listened as he spilled his heart out over a plate of potatoes and roasted veggies. She listened as his hands fidgeted with the loose string on his sweater and bit her lip as she realized just how alike they were. Soon enough, the rainstorm had slowed into a drizzle and the kitchen was cleaned up. It wasn't too long after that Maeve found herself plopping down on the couch next to Calum, pulling the warm fur blanket over both of their laps as the chill of the autumn night settled in around the house. The unwanted guest had forced both Maeve and Calum into warmer clothes, socks and hoodies peeking out over the edges of the blanket as they watched the flicker of the candlelight bounce on the walls.

"I tried, you know? To make myself love her and to make her love me," Calum sighed and shrugged as he took another sip of the whiskey, "I thought that if I proposed to her, our hearts would figure it out and everything would be fixed."

"And did it?" Maeve asked, her soft eyes finding him in the candlelight, "Did she fall in love with you?"

"Deep down, I knew it would never work." he sighed and frowned as he looked down at his fingers that had been playing with a loose thread on the blanket covering them both, "I'm surprised she hadn't left earlier."

"She's a fool," she mumbled, her knee nudging against Calum's causing both of them to lean into the warmth of it, "You're a great guy."

"You've only known me for three days, you can't possibly know that about me," Calum laughed and shook his head, his eyes gazing out the large window, watching the waves in the river splash against the bedrock.

"And from that, I already know that you're a great guy," she chuckled and shrugged, "You made me breakfast even after I made you get more wood late last night. Which by the way, is totally happening again."

"Yeah? You’re coming with me this time, okay?" Calum teased, knowing that there was no way she'd be stepping out after dark to walk to the shed where all the firewood had been stored.

"In your dreams, Hood."

That night, when the candles had been blown out and the fireplace in the bedroom crackled to keep them both warm, Calum had still been awake when Maeve had scooted back against him. Calum had been up for a while, his brain too awake to even think about sleeping, Maeve’s soft breaths keeping him grounded in the bed. He knew it was a mistake, to even consider that his heart raced a little faster when she was near him, but the past couple of days had taught him a lot. He’d never really believed in coincidences, but his mother had always told him that life had a funny way of showing him what he needed, even if it wasn’t what he’d expected. Maeve was like no one Calum had ever met before. She was so intelligent and well-spoken, she somehow always had something to say in response to Calum. She never seemed to get bored of all the reading or even of the random facts Calum would spew out whenever he remembered something. She was new and refreshing, like the air he’d breathe in every morning after he’d made it out of the cottage.

But Calum was being foolish again, he couldn’t feel anything for the stranger, that’s all she was really, a stranger who’d been booked in the same room as him and now he was stuck with her until someone noticed they’d missed their checkout date. He was stuck feeling his palms sweat whenever she talked with him in that soft voice, the one that gave him goosebumps he was thankful were hidden under his sweaters. He couldn’t have feelings for her because in a few days she’d be in Edinburgh having a life-changing interview and Calum would be on a flight back home, hoping that when his flight landed, he’d stopped regretting walking into the empty house he’d left weeks ago. He’d been so stuck in his brain, trying to stop his feelings for the stranger next to him, that he hadn’t noticed her breath hitting his neck. The soft snores leaving Maeve had made Calum’s thumb on her hip stop it’s up and down stroking, one he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing, and made him look down at her.

In the darkness of the room, where the only source of light came from the embers of the fireplace gave him only so much to work with, Maeve looked ethereal. Calum’s chest stopped rising, his eyes wide as he watched the small twitches in her nose and eyes as Maeve dreamt. The curls she’d usually push away when she was asleep were falling down onto her eyes, Calum’s hand coming up to push them behind her ear. Maeve’s eyes fluttered open at the touch, leaving Calum frozen in place with his finger on the warmth of her cheek.

“Hey,” she whispered, her sleep-induced haze making her lean into the touch, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Calum breathed out, his lungs finally receiving a new life as the oxygen once again rushed into them, “Go back to sleep, I’ve got you.”

Maeve, whose brain was slowly waking up, blushed at his words. Her eyes moved up to meet his in the darkness, the deep brown of his nearly replaced by his pupils which had dilated. In a moment of courage, where Maeve pushed away any of the warnings telling her to not move her head to the side, she cupped the hand that was on her cheek in hers and pressed a kiss onto the palm of it. Her eyes closed again as she felt the hitch in Calum’s breath, feeling him tense for just a second before he practically melted into her touch. They both laid there, staring at one another in the darkness they’d both used for lingering and greedy touches, their breathing matching as they leaned in closer and closer. The wind had picked up outside, whistling against the window panes, as if even nature outside knew the tension between the two bodies that were in the safety of the loneliness of the forest.

There was a beat of silence, a beat where Calum and Maeve took each other in one last time before their lips connected. In the dark, they found one another, pulling each other closer and closer until Calum could feel the soft noises leaving both him and Maeve against his chest. Her lips were soft, leaving Calum chasing after them for more after she pulled away to catch her breath. He hadn’t waited too long, the electric feeling of her against him back after less than a second. Outside, the window had continued to howl, the forest seemingly cheering for the two as the darkness outside shielded them from the world. The river still flowed beside the house, the water crashing against the large rocks like their lips had moments before. They moved in a flow, much like a river, clothes thrown off and kisses crashing onto unseen skin.

Calum’s hands were hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to touch Maeve, but the soft sigh that left her when his hand finally squeezed the thigh she’d rested over his hip was all he needed to keep going. His body pushed up against hers, his other arm coming up to push her down onto her back, the soft mattress pulling Maeve in like a hug. From where he was, kneeled at her side, Maeve’s breathless and flushed look made Calum want to wake up from such a cruel dream, his jaw going slack as Maeve’s knees dropped onto the bed and Calum slotted himself between her. Calum’s forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing up against one another in a silent plea for whatever it was they had started to be more, his breathing heavy as he felt her knees tighten around his waist and pull him closer. The friction between them had elicited soft groans from them, their lips once again finding each other in the dark as they found a rhythm, one so delicious Calum was sure he was seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.

“Please,” Maeve breathed out, her hands running up and down his chest until she grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it up his body, throwing it somewhere into the darkness, “Calum.”

Time slowed in those seconds where all they could focus on was the way their bodies moved together. Maeve was lost in Calum’s kisses, her hand sliding down between them and past the soft hair trailing down onto the boxers he’d been wearing. Calum’s mind was too far gone, his body tensing as he felt Maeve wrap her fingers around him, his hips jerking into the touch as his lips left a trail of kisses down her jaw and neck. Calum’s mind was running with all the things he would do to her, the fear of Maeve somehow knowing all that Calum was imagining overtaking his brain before he felt another wave of pleasure course through him as he felt the flick of Maeve’s wrist on him. Their bodies moved as one, moving through the darkness and racing for that crash that would leave them both seeing nothing but a blinding white behind their eyelids. That crash came eventually, their breathlessness hidden by the howling wind outside. Their bodies fell back onto the mattress as the stones from the very bridge that had forced them together had fallen days before. Through the pants and the mind-numbing pleasure, Maeve and Calum found their way back to one another, soft kisses shared in between whispers which wouldn’t have been distinguished between the sound of the rain falling outside. The droplets hitting the windows as Calum looked down at Maeve, who had been pressing soft kisses onto his chest, tracing over the ink splayed across it. She looked up at him, almost as if to ask what the ink said, the darkness hiding the design of it.

“In the morning,” Calum whispered, kissing her forehead as he felt the softness of her sink into his touch.

Both of them listened to the rain outside, wondering if the morning would bring more touches as the midnight had, or if they’d wake up in silence hoping that the other would speak up first. But Calum would explain the ink on his chest in the morning, would tell Maeve the story behind the words tattooed onto his body for the rest of his life. And Maeve would listen as she stroked the tan skin she’d run her fingernails down only hours before, leaving crescent shapes indented into his skin as a reminder that the pleasure and the ache in between her legs hadn’t been a dream. But that would come in the morning, for now, all they could do was doze off as the rain sang for them once more.

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karlheisenberganyone · 3 years

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This is my first post so I’m sorry if it’s bad lmao but yeaaa, this is kinda my first smut post ya knowww- but yea if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also I’m only doing this cause I’m bored asfffff 😫😫 also I might only post smut cause that’s what I’m best at cause I’m one hörny bish lmfao. So yea no one under 18 read I guess.

SMUT UNDER THIS PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Karl Heisenberg x female reader smut 18+

“Only for a bit”

Warning: cursing , kinkyyy, getting tied up, choking, pet calling (sweetheart, kitten) you also using names like sir. Just sexy stuff 😩

Enjoy <3

You were one of the 4 daughters of Lady Dimitrescu. You, Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra were treated very well, with rich delicious wine and goods. You were different from them though. All 4 of them were vampires, but you, you are an ordinary human being. Instead of eating human meat and drinking human blood, you ate normal animal meat and drank fine wine or water. It wasn’t difficult living with this family, you actually really enjoyed it. You had a wonderful mother and wonderful sisters. You felt loved and accepted in their family. You have lived with the Dimitrescu’s since a very younge age. You were brought into the family by Mother Miranda, who apparently found you in the abounded village a few miles away.

Today there was also a very important meeting being held up, and mother insisted you came over to accompany her, which you happily accepted. You were now In your bedroom, getting ready, but stopped when you heard a knock. “Sister, mother told me to bring you this dress she got made especially for you” you heard Bella say behind the door. “Oh ok, thank you very much and tell mother I’m very grateful” you said opening the door and taking the box with the dress in it. “I will, also mother wants you ready in 20 minutes” Bella said disappearing into a swarm of flies. “Ok!” You said loudly but not too loud.

You opened the box to see a gorgeous emerald green dress, with a bunch of gold swirls on the front with green gems. You slowly and carefully put the dress on and then go style your hair. You weren’t really used to these long dresses, and looking very elegant. After 20 minutes, you walked down the stairs in your heels, slowly to not fall over and make a scene of yourself. “You look absolutely stunning, as always dear” you heard your mother call out to you. “Thank you mother, and I’m very grateful for this dress. Bella told me it was specifically made for me” you tell your mother with a soft smile. “Only the best for my sweet beautiful daughter’s” your mother replied back with a soft smile. “So are you ready dear?” Your mother asked turning to look at you. “Yes mother” you said, taking your coat off the hanger and same with mother.

It was early autumn, and it was getting a tiny bit chilly. You walked down the paths, walking past many trees turning all different colours to show it was autumn. It truly was a gorgeous sight to see. After a few minutes of walking, you get to your destination. Mother opens the front door to find Donna sitting peacefully, greeting you and mother, while her doll running around laughing maniacally. Moreau was quietly lighting the candles to bring a bit of light inside. And Heisenberg no where to be seen yet. After all you were 30 minutes early. Mother sat down in her regular spot, talking to Donna about how she has been and catching up. You, you went to talk to Moreau about how well he has been. After 10 minutes of sitting down and talking to Moreau about video games he has, the door was harshly opened by a heavy boot, belonging to no other than Heisenberg. Everyone brings their attention towards the man himself, looking at his toothy white smile, greeting everyone by tilting his hat a bit and walking towards his seat. “So the dog decided to come over” mother started. “Oh shut up you bitch, I always come here for meetings, usually a bit late, but today is different!” Heisenberg said glaring at her through his glasses, and then looking at you, you looking back at him with an angry expression. “What are you frowning at kitten?” He asked you. “I do not like it when someone calls my mother in appropriate names” you said with a harsh and calm tone. “But your “dear mother” has called me a dog so I have full right to call her a bitch” he said putting his hands over he chair, and crossing his legs. “Not like she isn’t right” you mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear you, and your mother laughing quietly.

“You wanna fight or something kitten?” He asked you leaning forward now. “No, I just don’t like my mother being called harsh words that aren’t true” you said glaring at him. But when he was about to argue, Mother Miranda has arrived, leaving Heisenberg to close his mouth and groan loud enough for you to look at him.

After about an hour or so, the meeting ended. “Y/n, dear, please do me a favour and walk home. I must talk to Mother Miranda about something very important, and I won’t be coming home any time soon” mother said. You give her a reassuring smile and a nod, putting on your coat. You weren’t scared of walking home, because you knew how to fight. You could kill and fight with no problem, after all you do live with vampires. You walked out the door, and first thing you smell is the strong smell of cigar and whiskey, telling you Heisenberg was right there, and you were right. You turned your head towards him watching him smoking his cigar with a “really, here?” look. You shake your head a bit and start walking home, but before you could go you heard him talk. “I didn’t let you go anywhere kitten did I?” He asked you, you turning around to look at him. You took a deep breath and said “no.1 I ain’t no kitten so stop with that kitten shit, and 2nd of all you ain’t my parent so I can do what I want” you said with a little smile and started walking off home.

But Heisenberg didn’t give up easily. He started following you. You turn around rapidly. “What do you want?” You asked. Heisenberg just watched you. You could feel him eye you up and down even with those glasses on. You sighed out loud and started walking again, not caring that he was right behind you anymore. “You know what kitten, come with me to my factory, I wanna show u something” he said suddenly. You turned around once again and looked at him. “Why would I go to your factory?” He sighed “Come on pet, do ya have anything betta to do? No, so come over to mine. At least I’ll have some company”. The thought of you and Heisenberg being together alone made you kind of excited. You liked this man for a bit and loved teasing and annoying him, and he loved doing the same thing.

“Fine, but only for a bit” you said, letting him go in front and lead the way. It was a small walk and you got there real quick. “So here we are, my dear factory” he said showing off his mechanical creation’s. After giving you a walk through the factory, you asked why he invited you over. “Well I had a few questions” he answered, and now ur curiosity wanted to know what he had to ask. “You look curious kitten, would ya like to know?” He asked which you responded with a nod. “Well kitten, why did you chose to listen to me and come over?” Was his question first. “I dunno, I was bored so yea” you responded. “2nd question, what’s your type?” You looked at him with a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know that?” You asked. “You really wanna know kitten?” He asked lowering his voice a bit, which makes you shiver in pleasure. “I would like to know, but is it worth it?” You asked. “Well you will have to wait and see” he said. “Come over here” he said taking his glasses off and hat, and you obeying him and come near him. You could see the lust and need in his eyes making you feel warm and tingly.

“I would like to know why you want to know my type, Heisenberg” you said getting closer to him. “You really wanna know dear?” Seeing the lust in his eyes. “Yes I do” you said, a teasing look on your face. “Cause I wanna see if I’m of any of your standards dear. I wanna see if I can claim you as mine” he said coming closer to your ear, whispering in a deep raspy voice, which made you feel wetness come over. “And what would you do to me if you were of my standards and could claim me as yours?” You asked, teasingly wanting to know his answer. “Oh I’d do a lot to you kitten~” he purred into your ear. “Could you tell me what exactly?” You asked. “Right now, I’d like to rail you right here right now, make you scream my name until you can’t speak no more, listen to your moans like some music, fuck you so hard you start shaking, tie you up and make sure you can’t fuckin escape and make you endure the pleasure” he said making him squirm under him, making you feel like a hot mess, with only words. “Can I touch you?” He asked. You nod, immediately, begging for some friction. He slowly put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, and then taking your chin in one of his hands, and giving you a fast kiss, which soon turned into a heated make out session, his hands travelling around your body, while yours on his shoulders. Picking you up, he places you on the table behind him, throwing everything on the table onto the ground, placing you on top of it not stopping the kiss.

He soon started taking your dress off, unzipping it from the back, slowly to not make no damage. The kiss getting hotter and more heated, tasting the mix between cigar and whiskey, making your knees weak. After taking off the dress, he starts trailing kisses and bites down your jaw and kneck down to your exposed chest. He looked at you with a questionable look, and you gave him a quick nod to show him it was ok. After pleasuring you with your tits, and not getting a lot of moans out of you, it didn’t satisfy Heisenberg.

He laid you down onto your back and took of your panties. He gave you another look, and you nod. He slowly looks at you panties. “I haven’t even touched you that much, but look how fuckin wet you are kitten! And because of me and only for me” he said spreading your lips. He lowered himself biting at your thighs earning a few needy moans. It took him ages to finally give you a bit of pleasure by spreading your lips, and him finally using his mouth and tounge finally licking your clit, making your back arch and moan his name. That made Heisenberg go faster and add more pressure, which made you a moaning hot mess, for him and only him. “You taste fuckin delicious kitten” he said in pants. He then brought his 2 fingers, and slipped them inside you, curling them, making you feel more pleasure. When you felt your orgasm coming, Heisenberg stop what he was doing making you whine . “Come on, Heisenberg, I wanna cum so badly, please lemme cum” you moaned. “But kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He said taking his shirt off, boots and then undoing his belt.

When he undid his belt, and unzipped his pants, you could see his hard erection, making you wetter. “Enjoying the view princess?” He asked while taking his dick out. You just gave him a needy look and that gave him the hint to put it in. But before that you saw metal scraps flying past him taking your hands and pinning them at the top of your head on the table, making you unable to move your hands. This distracted you, so you didn’t notice Karl moving forward getting in place to rail you. He pushed in, which made you wince in pain letting him enter you bit by bit. You didn’t notice how big he was, feeling him fill you to the brim. “Is that all you can take kitten? Well fuck you still have a bit to go. You are so tight for me baby” he said moaning breathily.

“I cant take anymore Heisenberg, it’s too much” you moaned your legs trembling. “I’ll make you take all of it” he said pushing the rest of his length deep inside, making you arch your back in pleasure, making you gasp hard. He let you adjust to his size for a few minutes until he started moving his hips. At first he went with a slow passionate pace, but seeing you arch your back moaning for more, he picked up speed and strength, taking his dick nearly out, and slamming back in, making you gasp and moan. “Kitten, I want to hear you loud, don’t hide any of your sweet noises” he said breathlessly. You gave him a light nod before him slamming himself into you again, making you nearly scream his name out, him hitting every perfect spot.

He took one of your legs, onto his shoulder, making him go deeper into you, making you a moaning mess. He then took his glove off, by teeth and started rubbing your clit, building another orgasm inside you. “Already another orgasm pet? You have to beg for this one a lot harder sweetheart” he said rubbing your clit harder and slamming harder into you. “P-please sir please let me c-cum, I’ll do anything, please let me cum, please” you begged in between moans. “Tell me how good I make you feel” Heisenberg same slamming into you faster, watching your face curl into pleasure. “You make me feel so good sir, please haah your dick makes me feel so good sir, you are so good sir” you said with tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Good girl, so fuckin good for me and only me” slamming hard into you, your legs trembling nearing your orgasm. “Karl I’m about to-“ you slightly screamed, but Heisenberg stopped you by wrapping his hand around your neck, his other hand still rubbing your clit, making you cum hard on his dick, squeezing him, making him go harder, chasing his own orgasm moaning fuck and your so fuckin tight. And then he slammed one more time, spilling his seed deep inside you, filling you up. After that intense orgasm, Karl fell on top of you trying to support his weight with his hands on each side of your head. He let you go off the metal scraps, and you put one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. “Fuck, I should’ve done this sooner, don’t ya think?” He asked slightly laughing. “You should have, but better now than never” you said and with that he lowered down to give you a soft passionate kiss, making you melt right under him.

“You should go home kitten.. you can maybe stay a bit longer next time” he mumbled softly, not wanting to let you go, but also not wanting you to get in trouble and hurt. “I should” you said getting up, cleaning up and dressing up. He just put on his trousers and belt and watched you while lighting a cigar in his mouth. You were about to head out until Karl took your wrist and kissed you a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you again kitten” he said with a grin letting you go and opening the door for you. “Next time then. Bye bye” you said and he just waved. What a crazy day you told yourself walking home aching but happy.

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #smut #heisenberg smut #first post

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tarithenurse · 3 years

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To the point - 3

Pairing: au!Satoru Gojō x fem!reader Content: All the smut. Add a pinch of dom/sub, a drizzle of bondage, sweeten with pain, let it simmer for a moment. No proofing. A/N: Third and final chapter...and longer than expected.

3. Point taken

I should not have done that. Walking towards your last appointment, you’re not worrying about the floofy, pastel coloured dress you’re wearing (although it’s not your usual go-to style) but what’s underneath it. No one can see it: hidden beneath the almost knee-long, flowy skirt and the silken panties hides the result of a great deal of work that you never had expected to get done. I should. Not. Have done that. But you can’t undo it.

Face glowing hot, you try to ignore the reflection in the glass door as you enter the tattoo parlour. There’s no one around at the front. No sign of other customers in any of the two small rooms...at least it doesn’t seem so judging by the lack of sounds.

“Mind locking and turning the sign?” Gojō’s voice calls from behind the curtain at the left cubicle.

A muted, little croak is the only answer you can offer aside from doing as asked. Get yourself together! The mirrored motion of straightening up, pushing the shoulders back, catches your eye once more. Not bad, if you do say so yourself. Almost...innocent looking. That, of course, would be a lie and knowing that emboldens you enough to keep your head high as you pass the curtain.

“Well, hell-ooo,” Gojō purrs at the sight, eyes travelling over your form appreciatively.

It should have been you saying something to showcase the amazement you feel: everywhere are candles and flowers, in a corner is a beautifully painted box (closed and absolutely curiosity inducing), and music is flowing from Satoru’s docked phone.

He can see enough without the electric lights on? That’s when it hits you that he isn’t wearing the usual sunglasses. Perhaps he’s sensitive to the light. Why’ve I never asked?

“Hop up, princess.”

Technically, he partially lifts you up, large hands wrapping around your waist only to slide down slowly along your thighs before guiding your legs apart and into place. His fingers are hot against your flesh, as he rests your left leg in the cradle. Crystalline gaze tracking the shift of the skirt as it falls towards your hip, baring the work in progress.

“Perhaps -” he pecks a kiss to the inside of your knee -”we should take some precautions this time?”

There’s barely enough air in your lungs to answer. “Such as?”

Gojō grins wickedly. “Getting rid of these.” He curls the fingertips up under the dress, hooking onto the edge of the panties. “Would be a shame to ruin them.”

And then you remember and you catch his hands in yours. “I...I...don’t know if...ermm...”

“So shy, princess. Well...I guess it’s only fair that you aren’t the only one on display.”

And true to his words, he pulls off the t-shirt to grant you with a delicious view – there really is no better word to describe the lithe, muscular build. He isn’t bulky, but each muscle is clearly defined and makes your imagination’s creativity pale. You’re too distracted to notice where he drops the shirt. But you do see his hands go for the button and fly of his jeans and your pussy does respond to the view as he reveals himself fully for the first time, confirming the suspicion from the night you danced with him.

“Better, sweetie?” He saunters back between your legs, each movement enthralling and full of confidence.

Nothing stops you, as you sit up to reach out. Fingertips softly trace the lines of his body and turning him around. There’s a fairly big tattoo on his back and it takes a moment before your can extricate your focus from the individual strokes (symbols) of the pattern to see that the whole makes out wings that move with his shoulders and shoulder blades. It could have been tacky. It is ethereal.

“Like what you see?” He flexes cheekily, a goofy grin banishing the rest of the awkwardness you had accumulated over the last days.

“Oh yes.”

A large hands splays over your pussy, thumb rubbing your inner thigh and sending sparks to your abdomen, your chest. Then it’s gone, and the next touch is that of the needles jabbing into your skin.

Sweet pain mingles with fiery caresses as Gojō carries your through for an hour or more on the verge of ecstasy without once passing the silken barrier and by the time he takes a break to focus completely on you, you’re a whimpering mess, begging for more.

There’s no reason to oppose him as Satoru lifts the dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie (which, for once, matches).

“Sweet princess,” he croons against your belly, hands scooting under you to grope your ass, “you want more?”

“Y-yes yees...”

Your own hands are clamped on to the edge of the seat, hips automatically tilting towards him until he pulls away. Through a haze, you see him go and open the box, pulling out something small enough that he can hide it in his hand. Wait...two somethings.

“Can you be a good girl for me?” Of course you can, you will be anything for him. “Put this into your sweet cunt.”

He hands you one of the things: a silicone bullet, smooth and slightly warmed from his touch. There’s no hesitation as you slip your hands beneath the panties, gathering the slick on the toy. It’s not what you had expected, not quite what you need, but it makes you moan to push it past your entrance and feel it almost plop into place. It’s not on purpose when your fingers linger to stroke your folds.

A strong hand clamps around your wrist. “Did I tell you to play with yourself?”

“No-o,” you gasp.

Brilliant eyes have grown icy. “Then why did you?”

“I just...I need m- I need you please.”

He can’t hide the shrewd smile completely. “Only if you’re a good girl. Are you gonna be good from now on?”

“Yesyesyes! I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you.”

Returning your hand to the edge of the seat, he leans in over you, hips pushing against your inner thighs and his cock twitching against your pussy. Gojō’s chest is hard and warm against yours. His lips soft along your jaw.

“Good,” he whispers, “otherwise I’d have to tie you u-” interrupted by an involuntary roll of your hips, his eyes search your features before he continues, “...oh. I see. Are you sure?”

If I’m not allowed to touch and he doesn’t do it? You nod, but it’s probably a new roll of your hips that convinces him to find two leather straps in the box, one for each wrist. He’s gentle as he ties you to the seat, whispering sweet promises and explaining how to navigate this new territory safely. When done, Gojō kisses you agonizingly slow and deep and your brain can’t help but imagine how it would feel if he was using his tongue like that but on your pussy instead. Tense and hot, clenching around nothing...and he smiles as he retracts because he knows and his cock is damp from having pressed against your soaked panties.

“Mmm, perfect,” the words are mumbled against your cleavage and then repeated as he kisses his way down your body in a straight line.

Almost. Almost there. But of course he skips where you need him the most and you have to bite back a whine as he sets to work on the artwork again.

Kisses. Fingers massaging and rubbing. Soft bites. Each sends new jolts through your body, keeping you close to the edge with no risk of toppling over. Want more. As if on cue, a rumble rocks through your cunt, making it clench around the toy you had forgotten all about in your frustration. Maybe it’s a gasp (it could be a moan) and Satoru understands the sentiment perfectly and lets the vibrations continue as your breathing speeds up and you teeter on the verge of the first orgasm -

“Noooo...”

Everything has stopped and Gojō watches your body regain its balance instead of succumbing to pleasure. The bastard had turned off the bullet and no matter how hard your pussy squeezes around the thing, it’s not enough. Straining against the leather of the cuffs, you try to reach down. Your fingers know the motions. Your clit is throbbing. Inner walls weeping. And Satoru looks at you with hooded eyed while running a hand lazily along his length.

...

The base colours are filled in and the millions of jabs with the needles has caused your thigh to ache wonderfully. It’s not enough to distract you from the much deeper burning in your core: a desperation, a longing so profound that words such as grace or dignity have lost their meaning completely. Tears are filling your eyes and dripping down your cheeks as you babble. Begging. Pleading. Sobbing for Gojō to take pity on the wreck of a girl strapped down before him.

“I love the way you sound, princess,” he mumbles against your hip, “adore the way you stutter through my name.” Adept fingers have left the most sensible parts of your body momentarily to wrap up the tattoo. “You’ve been such a good girl.”

It’s impossible to fit together a string of words. Your brain has been reduced to mush and you’re trembling with need as his lean body presses against your flesh, his raging boner pushing at the soaked fabric of your panties. And he purrs, damn it, the man enjoys the sensation of the vibration he’s subjecting you too as they travel outwards.

“Pl-ple-ease!”

“Yeah? No more playing?” Somehow, the blue of his eyes manages to pierce through the haze of tears.

You’re not entirely sure when he frees you wrists. And the surprised growl as he finally pulls your panties off could just as easily have come from miles away. Two licks is all the aching folds are granted before he maps a path up your body, marking each detour with kisses and bites that makes you whimper at the delicious sting. There’s almost no power left in you to sit up like he wants you to...but somehow you manage for long enough to wrap your arms around him so he can unfasten your bra.

“It’s okay, darling,” he nibbles at your earlobe, guiding you onto your back once more, “hang on a bit longer, mm?”

“M-mm,” you nod, happy for the reprieve as the bullet stops.

Next second, the calm is disturbed as Gojō pulls out the toy slowly, leaving you more hollow than ever. A slobbery sound piques your curiosity, fighting against the reduced vision until you see him lick every trace of you off the silicone.

“I can never get enough of your taste,” he groans, winking at you. “

“You...how do...”

No, words are too difficult. It’s not as you really need them anyways, your brain tries to remind you before losing all sense of reality except the one fact that you’re finally feeling a cock head slipping up and down between your folds. Not just any cock, of course.

“Yeah...plea-OH!”

Shock waves of hot pleasure courses through every cell in your body at the sensation of Gojō bottoming out. Without warning, your body is wrecked, taken apart and put together in a heartbeat that lasts forever as your insides spasm and the only thing you can scream in your ecstasy is his name. And he doesn’t even move, just waits for you to come down and catch your breath.

“Hmmm, we need more space, princess.” His voice is strained.

Somehow, the man manages to lift you, still impaled by his erection, and carry you through a backdoor and up to the next floor – to be fair, you’re not thinking too much about it because all you can do is hold on as each step he takes sends aftershocks through your core.

You are aware of the soft feel of a mattress against your knees, realizing that he’s laid down in bed with you straddling him. Please, yes. It’s impossible to say where it comes from – probably the desperate craving that hasn’t been satisfied enough – but new energy tugs at your limbs until your sitting upright and your hips begin to roll. Every time he says your name, you reward him by pulling nearly all the way off and then sinking back down.

“Why’d I wait so long?” Satoru groans, his fingers digging into your ass. “Feel so...amazing.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me be good to you?”

Gojō seems to be the one struggling for words now as he thrusts up into you with each roll, trying to speed up despite your effort to keep it slow. It’s not long before he lifts you up and down by the waist, praising the bounce of your breasts and asking you to play with them. Of course you comply.

“Fuck!” He pulls you off, scrambling to get behind you and pushing you forward on knees and elbows. “Ready, babe?”

“Gimme, please.”

You're aching for him inside, a deep longing for the balancing act between the pain and satisfaction he can grant you. Breath reduced to superficial whimpers. Hands clenching the sheets. All the anticipation building up to the point that you're shaking as you feel him align himself. Deep...hard, the inner voice keens.

It's neither. Frustratingly slow, Satoru fills you again, underlining the discovery of the bumps and quivers against his length with wonderfully delicious moans.

"Wanted to do this at the club," he growls strained, "slide into heaven. Feel your tight cunt around me as we danced." Finally bottoming out, Gojō's hips stutter and his fingers hold tight enough to bruise your hips in his efforts to still you both. "Fuck, princess! You're so damn perfect, I wouldn't have been able to hold back."

"You wouldn't have had to," you whine, core fluttering at his words.

Slowly, he begins to thrust into you and for a moment the only sounds are from two sets of panting breaths and an obscene squelching. One hand trails up your side only to return via the spine, nails scoring to set your nerves ablaze.

"I think it was worth it," he purrs, "this view? Beautiful. And no loud music to cover your sounds." As if to prove the point, he rams in deep to make you cry out again and again.

You're right at the verge, the dizzying precipice begging for that last stroke to push you over the edge and fly on the updrafts – and the second before it happens, Gojō's strong arms pull you up flush against his chest and he growls into your ear to scream his name. The change of angle, the command, or maybe the feeling his teeth digging into your earlobe as he pulls you down hard on his cock has you cumming with him.

Rather than an explosion or waves, the bliss concentrates heavy and hot and spreads its blinding rays outwards until there is nothing but deeply saturated satisfaction.

You come to you senses sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped tight around you for support for both. Satoru's chest is heaving against your back, but he's still capable of peppering your skin with kisses.

"I know we got work to do still on your thigh but..." his tongue catches your earlobe, making you hum with delight, "be mine, princess?"

It takes a second before you can talk. "Is there any doubt that I am already?"

"Nope...but I like the way you presented your heart to me," you hear him smile.

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lady-of-the-lotus · 3 years

Text

Xue Yang's ritual to resurrect Xiao Xingchen in Lan Xichen's body has failed.

Unfortunately for the wounded, guilt-wracked Lan Xichen, Xue Yang doesn't seem to realize this. All he knows is that he's finally got his daozhang back...

Stroking his hair, Xue Yang kisses his forehead, so gently that Lan Xichen almost cries. He doesn’t deserve this tenderness. Lan Xichen doesn’t, rather. But Xiao Xingchen— Xiao Xingchen deserves everything.

Xue Yang/Lan Xichen & Xuexiao - E - Ch. 1 Ch. 2 on Tumblr - AO3

Chapter 3 - The Coffin

Xue Yang’s fever breaks the next morning.

Lan Xichen sits up from where he’s fallen asleep at the table pushed near the bed. A light doze, plagued by nightmares. “How do you feel?”

Xue Yang blinks in the pale gold light streaming through the uncovered windows, then snatches at the bed as if reaching for the sword he slept beside before returning to Yi City.

“Jiangzai is safe!” Lan Xichen says before Xue Yang can panic at the missing sword. They’ve been through this many times over the past few days. “I even cleaned it for you.”

Xue Yang relaxes slightly. “What happened?”

Lan Xichen crosses the room to fill a bowl with cold rice. “You went out in the cold rain to fix the roof.”

“You don’t get sick from cold,” scoffs Xue Yang. His voice is hoarse, but it’s back to its old teasing, flippant self, with the new note of fondness it’s acquired since coming to the Coffin House. “I’ve been cold and wet more times than I can count.”

Lan Xichen imagines a young Xue Yang huddled outside in the rain and feels a twinge of—not regret, as there had been nothing he could have done about it while it was happening, but something akin to it.

“Your infection didn’t help matters,” he says, closing Xue Yang’s fingers around the bowl.

“Infection?”

Lan Xichen pours him a cup of water. He’s been trying to get him to drink for days, with little cooperation. “You can’t let things go like that again.”

Xue Yang grins through a mouthful of rice. “ ‘Again’? You think I’m going to run around getting slashed up by qi-deviating clan leaders again, daozhang?”

Daozhang. So he’s Xiao Xingchen again….

“Is that what happened to you?”

Xue Yang’s smile vanishes. “He attacked me.”

“Were you two…friends?”

Xue Yang shovels rice into his mouth, avoiding looking at Lan Xichen. “He reminded me of you,” he says, almost hesitantly. “Much better manners, of course, having been raised by gentry.” He grins to himself, as if Xiao Xingchen’s unusual upbringing is an old joke between them, but it’s not much of a smile.

“You sound rather...displeased with the man.”

“He turned on me,” Xue Yang says shortly, “as I always knew he would…I tried to help him, and he tried to strangle me.” Almost unconsciously he touches a hand to the pallid skin of his throat, and memories of purple bruises mottling that same throat spring to Lan Xichen’s mind.

Lan Xichen can’t imagine why he’d hurt Xue Yang. Why he’d do something like that to a smaller, weaker man—to anyone. The time before the Coffin House is increasingly hazy. A former life, a bad dream…

But despite not wanting to, he can remember that day at the Chang Manor, the bright blazing pain of that day like a beacon.

Lan Xichen had been distraught. Xue Yang had restored A-Yao to life, only for him to vanish in the morning. Temporarily, but Lan Xichen hadn’t known that, and he’d blamed Xue Yang...

But it wasn’t Xue Yang’s fault, A-Yao’s state of limbo. If anything, Xue Yang had done everything in his power to bring A-Yao back to him…

And A-Yao’s final decision to leave for good had not been Xue Yang’s fault. That had been A-Yao’s choice.

…No. He couldn’t blame A-Yao. A-Yao had simply done what he had to after Lan Xichen had destroyed everything about himself that A-Yao might have cared for.

And Xue Yang…

Lan Xichen has been avoiding these thoughts, but they break in on him now.

Xue Yang had tried sacrificing Lan Xichen to bring Xiao Xingchen back. Lan Xichen knows this.

But he, Lan Xichen had done far worse in his quest to bring back A-Yao, and unlike Xue Yang, Lan Xichen had a clan, a position, a life…

A family.

Who is Lan Xichen to judge someone such as Xue Yang?

He rises and refills Xue Yang’s bowl.

Xue Yang’s eyes follow him around the room.

“You’re wearing your old robes,” he says.

Lan Xichen glances down at his robes. They’re Xiao Xingchen’s white ones. “I thought you might like them.”

“No, no, of course not,” Xue Yang says teasingly. He’s…he’s blushing.

Lan Xichen bows, smiling despite himself. “I can take them off, if you’d like.”

Xue Yang laughs, wagging a finger. “Let’s wait until your stitches are out.”

"I..." Lan Xichen swallows and glances at A-Qing on the porch, hoping she hadn't overheard. He's been trying to avoid thinking of that terrible night together, of Xue Yang's hand inside his robes, of Xue Yang's tongue on his—on his—

Xue Yang laughs again, perhaps at the look on Lan Xichen’s face, and closes his eyes with his forehead slightly creased, as if he somehow doesn't want to see the white robes drifting around the Coffin House again. Though Lan Xichen thinks he must be imagining that part. Xue Yang is tired, that's all....

“Can you fix my hair later?” Xue Yang murmurs, long after Lan Xichen supposed he was asleep.

“Fix…”

“Braid it, like you used.” Xue Yang rolls over, pulling the covers up so only his eyes are visible. “I’ve been waiting for you to offer...”

Lan Xichen has never braided hair before, but he nods. “Once my wrist feels better,” he promises, though in truth it no longer pains him. He’ll have to practice on his own hair.

Xue Yang nods sleepily and drifts off.

It takes Xue Yang several days to recover his strength.

He spends most of them sleeping.

Lan Xichen cooks, changes his bandages and, while he sleeps, sketches, being sure to hide the drawings. There’s a large store of fresh paper and ink in the house, as if Xue Yang had prepared it for Xiao Xingchen somewhat recently.

On the third day Xue Yang gets out of bed. A-Qing sits in the doorway as usual, watching him with sightless eyes, while Lan Xichen sets the table.

Xue Yang kneels in front of the shelves in the corner, prying open a small casket Lan Xichen didn’t notice until now. Humming to himself, he messes around at the stove, pouring hot water into a small cup. He sets it down before Lan Xichen, eyes fixed closely on his face.

Lan Xichen sniffs at the fragrant steam curling up from the cup. “Is that…”

Every tooth in Xue Yang’s head is showing. “Jasmine tea. Your favorite.”

Jasmine has never been on Lan Xichen's list of teas he enjoys, but he blows on the steaming cup and takes a sip.

“It’s good,” he says, trying not to breathe through his nose. “Thank you.”

Xue Yang comes to stand behind him, slipping his arms around Lan Xichen, chin resting on his white-clothed shoulder.

“Wasn’t easy to find,” he says, nuzzling his ear, then pulls away.

Lan Xichen doesn’t eat much that night. He’s quite thin, but Xiao Xingchen’s robes are still a bit snug around his middle thanks to his larger bone structure. There isn’t much rice left, anyway. Tomorrow they won’t have anything to eat at all.

They sit at the table after dinner, Xue Yang with his brush poised over a sheet of paper, A-Qing motionless in the doorway, and Lan Xichen with a second cup of the vile tea. From the distance comes the haunting trill of a night bird, and the breeze from the open door is cool but not cold. A sprinkle of stars is visible in the crystal-clear sky, an enormous full moon casting long black shadows.

It’s…peaceful.

“The autumn wind enters through the window,

The gauze curtain starts to flutter and fly.

I raise my head and look at the bright moon,

And send my feelings a thousand miles in its light,” Lan Xichen recites.

“Winter wind.”

“…winter wind,” Lan Xichen corrects himself, though the poem, by an anonymous poet, is entitled “Midnight Song of the Seasons: Autumn Song.”

Xue Yang finishes the last stroke and lays the brush down. “I like this one.” He tugs at his hair, hard enough to hurt. Lan Xichen doesn’t think Xue Yang quite understands why poetry has an effect on him, or would be willing to admit it if he did. Or perhaps it’s all simply because it’s the daozhang’s poetry. He winks teasingly at Lan Xichen. “Better than all that stuff about flowers and birds and sunshine you used to write...”

He carries Xue Yang to bed that night after Xue Yang falls asleep at the table. He lays him out gently and pulls down the window's paper curtains so that they're not woken too early by the sunlight. He slides into bed beside Xue Yang but doesn't lie down. He's exhausted from days of tending to Xue Yang when his own strength is diminished, but he's afraid of falling asleep.

Sleep brings dreams.

There’s ink on Xue Yang’s face from where he fell asleep with his face on the table. Lan Xichen fights the urge to lick his finger and wipe the ink off.

Xue Yang’s face has lost much of its boyishness these past few weeks, the fever and wound taking their toll. He looks older, more worn, his once disarmingly innocent face finally matching how Lan Xichen views him.

Except…Xue Yang has been more like a besotted puppy these past few weeks than the hardened monster his reputation made him out to be.

Most of the rumors about A-Yao had been untrue…

Lan Xichen tries to shove the thought away, but another one springs up in its place like a corrupting weed: Xiao Xingchen couldn’t have fallen in love with the kind of man people made Xue Yang out to be.

Which must mean that…that…

Ridiculous. He knows it. And yet…

A-Qing rises and closes the door, shutting out the moonlight, and cocks her head at Lan Xichen.

He knows what that means. He wouldn’t have thought to look at her, but A-Qing, with no other entertainment, has developed quite a taste for poetry.

“Excerpt from ‘Last Night the Wind and Rain Together Blew’ by Li Yu,” he obligingly, keeping his voice low.

“Last night the wind and rain together blew,

The wall-curtains rustled in their autumn song.

The candle died, the water-clock was exhausted,

I rose and sat, but could not be at peace.

Man's affairs are like the flow of floodwater,

A life is just like floating in a dream…”

A mountain of white-robed corpses comes to him in his sleep that night, piled to the sky. Waterfalls of blood pour down the sides, gushing from beneath the once-stainless white robes, forming a crimson lake surrounding the towering island of dead cultivators.

He starts awake, heart hammering. Xue Yang murmurs something intelligible and draws him closer, arm around his chest, warm and solid and firm, but Lan Xichen can’t fall back asleep. He’s up early the next morning, still tired. To the accompaniment of the drumming of the rain that began overnight and the steady dripping of the leaky roof, he sifts through Xue Yang’s clothes until he finds a meticulously-maintained pale silk coin purse that seems out of place among Xue Yang’s belongings.

Lan Xichen wonders how Xue Yang survived before he came to the Cloud Recesses. Stealing? Certainly not begging. Perhaps he’d scrounged off the goodwill bought by his Xiao Xingchen mask?

“You stay here and watch over him,” he tells A-Qing. “Is there anything you would like me to buy you?”

He’s relieved when she gives a slight shake of her head. Xue Yang’s purse holds only a few coins, and he wouldn’t want to disappoint her.

He heads out into the rainwashed courtyard. A tapping sound stops him at the gate. A-Qing stands behind him, extending her stick to him.

“I couldn’t—”

She nods.

Lan Xichen bows. “Thank you, A-Qing. Now, why don’t you go inside out of the rain?”

The thin white material of his blindfold is already soaked, and he can see relatively clearly through the wet material and by peering out from underneath it, but he’s glad to have the stick as he ventures out of the courtyard for the first time.

He’s faced battle countless times without so much as a tremor, but his heart pounds as he taps his way past the abandoned houses surrounding the Coffin House courtyard and heads deeper into the city.

He isn’t sure what he’ll find. It’s been suspiciously quiet in the Coffin House’s corner of the city. But he finds shops in the center of town, and houses, though the city appears to be sparsely populated and run-down. The rain has emptied the streets, and he meets only the occasional pedestrian and a single donkey-drawn cart.

“This isn’t enough to pay for the vegetables or basket,” says the young man at one of the few stalls open despite the rain. He pokes at the coins set down on the table. “Just the rice.”

Lan Xichen swallows. He’d had no idea how much fresh food cost. Servants had always taken care of it, or Xue Yang. “I—I don’t have any more money.”

The young man starts to empty the basket. “Come back when you do, then.”

“A-Tong!” An old woman’s voice, shocked. “Are you being rude to the daozhang?”

He can’t see him clearly, but Lan Xichen imagines the young man making a face. An old woman-shaped shadow approaches him from the run-down house behind the stall.

“Is it really you?” The old woman bows low. “The daozhang, come back to us! My eyes are failing, but I would recognize you anywhere.”

Lan Xichen ducks his head, wondering just how bad her vision is. “Madam.”

“The daozhang, come back to us! I knew you would return. The good daozhang, returned to help us!” She bows again, and Lan Xichen averts his eyes.

It’s Xiao Xingchen she’s bowing at, not him. If she knew the things he had done—

“It’s been difficult since you left us, daozhang. Nobody cares enough to build a watchtower nearby, and there's talk of fierce corpses roaming the forest outside the city…” She bows yet again. “But now that you’re back, everything will be all right again. Here. Take this. Your money is no good here.” She fills the basket with vegetables. “You’ll have to come back when the rain stops for the rice. It’ll spoil in the rain.”

Lan Xichen returns her bows. He knows he shouldn’t be so affected by her kindness, that it’s merely another testament to the goodness and purity of the man whose name he’s soiling, but he is. “I am most grateful, madam. And if someone could help me find my way back to the Coffin House, I—”

“Anything for the good daozhang. A-Tong! Show the daozhang to the Coffin House!”

A-Tong glances curiously at Lan Xichen as they walk.

“I’ve heard about you,” he says. “And your friend in black. About how you used to protect the city and the village around here, and then you disappeared and left us on our own. Don’t know why my grandmother gave you all the free food. As if we can afford it! If it were up to me—”

He talks all the way to the Coffin House—not quite the Coffin House. He stops when they're just in sight of the courtyard.

“I’m not stepping foot within a hundred feet of that cursed place,” he says.

Lan Xichen wonders what happened here. Considers asking Xue Yang, decides against it. Doesn’t matter. It’s…

It’s home. For lack of a better word.

“Well, go on then,” says A-Tong. He turns and walks off, not soon enough for Lan Xichen, who had found himself wishing Xue Yang were there many times during the walk. Xue Yang would have had no compunctions about punching the young man in the face—

He winces. Since when are his thoughts so violent?

As if imagining a punch is any worse than what you’ve already done?

Xue Yang is pacing the porch when he returns.

“Where were you?” he demands, following Lan Xichen into the house. He tugs almost anxiously at the long thin wisps of hair framing his face. “I thought—”

Lan Xichen sets the basket down on the table. “We needed more food.”

“Yes, but…” Xue Yang grips the back of a chair. “You can’t just run off like that. You’re not fully recovered. You almost fainted the other day...”

Lan Xichen hands A-Qing her stick and lights the stove. “I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”

“I feel much better.” Xue Yang relaxes his grip on the chair, but he does it with a forced casualness. “Did anyone remember you…?”

“An old woman.”

“And she recognized you…? Did anyone else see you?”

“Her grandson.”

“What was her name?”

“I didn’t get a name, but she called her grandson A-Tong. A rather…unprepossessing young man.”

For the first time in weeks—months?—the thought of Gusu Lan’s rules flash through Lan Xichen’s mind.

Rule 900: Do not hold grudges

Rule 901: Love all beings

Rule 1,019: Speak not ill of others

Odd that memory of the rules should return over something so innocuous, of all things…

He tries blinking the thoughts away, but to his surprise, the words lie warmly in his mind, beckoning to him.

How much easier things were back then. How comforting it was to have a ready-made trellis upon which to wind his life. A proven morality, a sense of structure, a set path.

Too late for that now. Can’t go back. Can never go back.

Not now.

Not anymore….

But they’re coming for him. He’s certain of this. Any day now he expects to see the white of the Lan as they invade the grim gray peace of Yi City, any day he expects to be whisked away in spirit-binding ropes.

Back to the Cloud Recesses. To the one place he can never return to.

Even if he could go back…

He’s no longer Lan Xichen, Zewu-Jun, the Lan’s Clan Leader.

He’s…something else, now.

Someone else.

“A-Tong, and his grandmother the grocer. I know who that is…don’t run off like that again, daozhang.” Xue Yang bites his lip, drawing blood, then reaches for the collar of Lan Xichen’s soaking wet robes and tugs it aside slightly, revealing Lan Xichen’s collarbone.

Lan Xichen’s skin still crawls at his touch, but…Xue Yang’s hands are warm, and Lan Xichen’s skin is cold, and Lan Xichen welcomes the gentle heat.

Xue Yang brushes a thumb over his clammy wet skin, gazing at his exposed collarbone as if looking for a symbol he can’t find, perhaps one of the bruises he’s marked Lan Xichen with. His hands slide down to Lan Xichen’s waist, as if measuring it. Lan Xichen can just fit into Xiao Xingchen’s wide gray belt, but despite Lan Xichen’s thinness, it’s snug.

“You should change into dry clothes,” Xue Yang says, and he abruptly turns and heads out of the house.

Lan Xichen glances at A-Qing, glad that she couldn’t see Xue Yang’s hands on him. She shrugs as if she could see his glance and goes to sit on the porch.

After changing into dry clothes Lan Xichen busies himself with boiling water and slicing radishes, the extent of his culinary skills. After a few minutes he hears a scraping sound coming from outside and a rustling, thumping sound from the roof.

“Be careful!” he calls up through a window. "Wait till after the rain stops."

"Sure, sure. The roof is leaking."

He goes outside and peers up at Xue Yang, who’s perched on the roof. “I mean it, Chengmei.”

“Go nag A-Qing.” Back to his usual cheerful self, Xue Yang flashes a grin at him over the dripping edge of the roof and disappears again.

Shaking his head, Lan Xichen goes returns to the house.

“The grocer told me there are fierce corpses in the forest,” he tells Xue Yang as they eat the boiled eggplant and radishes, something Xue Yang gratifyingly declares to be as good as anything Xiao Xingchen cooked in the past.

Xue Yang looks up. His hair is still damp, and he gives off the impression of a wet black kitten. “Are they killing people? That’s good—I mean, it’s great that we’ll get to night hunt again.”

“Not until you’re stronger. You’ll get yourself killed in your condition."

“I was crawling around on the wet roof, no problem—”

“We’re waiting until you’re back to yourself,” says Lan Xichen firmly. “We can’t have you getting hurt.”

Xue Yang swallows hard. “Anything you want.”

Lan Xichen hesitates. “There is something else.”

“Anything!” And then, as if ashamed by his response, Xue Yang shrugs and repeats, “I mean, you know, if it’s not too hard.”

Lan Xichen lowers his voice. “A-Qing. What is she, exactly? She’s not a fierce corpse.”

Xue Yang glances at A-Qing sitting still and silent in the doorway. “I don’t actually know. Some form of ghost, I’ve always figured, or maybe a new breed of fierce corpse.”

“We need to set her at rest.”

Xue Yang frowns. “Kill her?”

“Of course not. We need to make sure she’s sent off properly.”

“Before she kills me.” Xue Yang grins teasingly. “Sometimes I think she’s haunting me.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t bother asking what Xue Yang might have done to deserve this. Couldn’t be anything worse than what Lan Xichen has done…

“She’s had plenty of chances to harm you since we got here, and hasn’t,” he points out instead.

Xue Yang turns towards where A-Qing is in her usual spot at the door. “You hear that, A-Qing? Oblige the daozhang and kill me quick!”

A-Qing raises several fingers in a vulgar gesture.

Xue Yang grins delightedly. “Takes her a while to come back to herself after her little naps, but seems like she's back to her old charming self," he says. “Isn’t that right, A-Qing?”

A second gesture, even more vulgar than the first. Lan Xichen winces, but Xue Yang thinks it's the funniest thing he’s ever seen.

“How much are you contr…” Lan Xichen tries thinking of a better way of wording it. “…how far is she under your influence?”

Xue Yang makes a face and begins to play with his hair. “Not much. I try to avoid using the Yin Iron as much as possible. Just to get her not to kill me in my sleep and stuff like that.”

“When you were laid out in the snow, she carried you inside when I couldn’t.”

“She did? She…well, I think she just doesn’t want me to die by anything other than her hand so she can be set at rest and all that.”

“But you could do it, with the Yin Iron. Set her at rest without her having to harm you.”

“Maybe, but she’s been with me here for years. She’s…” Xue Yang stops and glances down into his bowl of slimy eggplant, now cold. These past few weeks have revealed a myriad of surprising new emotions from Xue Yang, but this strain of bashful hesitancy is something entirely new.

“I wouldn’t want to—” Xue Yang stops. “I—”

Lan Xichen reaches out and rests a hand on Xue Yang’s gloved left hand, just as he’s certain Xiao Xingchen would have done to reassure the man he loved. His thumb touches the scarred skin showing through the palmless glove, sliding inside the glove, rubbing his bare skin. Caressing the disfigured part of Xue Yang, the part Xue Yang tries to hide from the daozhang.

He touches his blindfold with his other hand, quickly removing his hand at the slight bulge of his eyes beneath the material.

“You won’t be alone, Chengmei,” he says, very quietly. “I’ll still be here.”

Xue Yang stares down at his hand for a long time in silence. Lan Xichen wonders if he shouldn’t have touched him, if he should have used his other hand, the hand without that odd little wrist wound he still can’t account for, if he misread things entirely.

“I won’t leave,” he tells Xue Yang, putting it into as simple words as he can.

Xue Yang pulls his hand away. “You did before,” he says, almost blurts.

The accusation is like a dart to the throat before Lan Xichen remembers it was Xiao Xingchen who had abandoned Xue Yang, not him.

But he cannot not blame Xiao Xingchen for leaving Xue Yang, just as he can’t blame A-Yao for leaving him.

Xiao Xingchen must have had a good reason, as he had for everything he did.

Just as A-Yao had.

Lan Xichen can’t think of what to say to Xue Yang, who sits staring off through the window. Instead of speaking, Lan Xichen pulls a paper-wrapped candy from his robe. The old grocer had sent it “for his friend in black.”

He sets the candy down on the table, a little offering of friendship.

Xue Yang shakes his head and steps out past A-Qing, disappearing through the courtyard gate.

But the candy is gone when Lan Xichen wakes the next morning.

Happy as he is to have the bed to himself, Lan Xichen again dreams of dead bodies that night.

Dead bodies bobbing in the darkness, illuminated by Shuoyue’s solemn silver-blue glow. By its light he can see the white uniforms of the Lan, the silver of the Nie, the skewered body of Wu Shen, the mutilated corpse of Chang Ping.

Floating amidst the corpses is a figure in white, its face blurred save for a white blindfold that stands out stark and clear.

It says nothing. Just stares reproachfully at Lan Xichen through the blindfold while a disembodied old woman’s voice whispers around him, over and over: The good daozhang, returned! The good daozhang—the good daozhang—

Lan Xichen wakes in a sweat.

The bed is cold and empty.

Xue Yang sets a bowl of rice down on the table at Lan Xichen’s seat. Half-filled, as usual. Lan Xichen looks up at the sound.

“Where were you last night?”

Xue Yang grins. “Miss me? I was night hunting. Killed two fierce corpses. Had to check it all out before I let you anywhere near it.”

“Where did we get the rice?”

Xue Yang taps the basket on the table. It’s overflowing with rice, fish, and dried meat. Near the door he sees three more, each with rice, fruit, and vegetables. “Someone left food at our door with an anonymous note addressed to you. Guess word’s out that you’re back.”

“A note?”

“It blew away in the wind. Welcoming back the good daozhang in white.”

Lan Xichen recognizes the color and weave of the baskets as ones on display at the old grocer’s stall. “Do you think it was the old woman from yesterday?”

Xue Yang eats a few mouthfuls of rice before responding. “I doubt it. They’re moving away today.”

Lan Xichen frowns. “Moving?”

Xue Yang shrugs. “That’s what I hear. Some relative died and left the old woman and her grandson a house or something in another town. They won’t be back.”

“Really? She made it sound like she would be around for a while yet…Perhaps I can catch her before she leaves, thank her for her kindness—”

Xue Yang looks up in something approaching alarm. He really doesn’t want Xiao Xingchen wandering around the city, Lan Xichen thinks. He had no idea Xue Yang could be so protective, not even of the people he cared about.

As soon as I go night-hunting with Chengmei, he’ll be forced to acknowledge that I've recovered enough to go out on my own again, he thinks, and is about to ask about the weather when Xue Yang speaks, as if eager to change the subject on his own.

“I have a better idea than running after the old grocer,” says Xue Yang. “What you said yesterday about A-Qing—” and all thoughts of the old woman or the weather are driven from Lan Xichen’s mind.

Lan Xichen, trained his whole life in diplomacy and the social graces, finds himself completely unable to find a way to address A-Qing.

Xue Yang explains things to her instead. “I’m going to set you at rest, or whatever it's called. How does that sound, Little Blind? Ah, you’re speechless.” He laughs as if this is a joke, stopping when Lan Xichen frowns at him.

“Can she speak?” he asks.

Xue Yang makes a face. “Well…she doesn’t breath, so she doesn’t have a voice, and I hated to see her try to talk, so…”

“Let her speak, Chengmei.”

Sighing, Xue Yang does something, though Lan Xichen’s not sure what, and A-Qing gets to her feet and eyes Xue Yang coldly.

“Well, A-Qing?” Xue Yang says. His tone is a bit too cheerful. “It’s been fun, no?”

A-Qing bows in Lan Xichen’s direction. “Thank…you….” she croaks, and Xue Yang was right, it’s an awful sound, all throat and no breath. “Can’t…leave…you…with…him…”

Xue Yang laughs. A bit too loudly, as if to cover anything else A-Qing might want to add. The pathetic sound of his old friend must affect him terribly, Lan Xichen thinks.

“You talk to her,” Xue Yang says, and he goes to stand on the porch, close enough to intervene if necessary. Lan Xichen would never do anything to distress A-Qing, but he appreciates Xue Yang's concern for her.

"Please let us help you, A-Qing," Lan Xichen says. "I can't bear to see you living like this."

"Not...leave....you...." she rasps out.

“I’ll be fine, A-Qing."

“….happy?”

“Yes,” says Lan Xichen. He’s surprised at how readily he responds, though he hasn’t given it any thought. Happiness had not been something he’d been raised to need or want. Duty and moral rectitude were. Two things he’d abandoned.

And yet—

“I’m as happy as I deserve to be,” he says, trying to untangle his thoughts, but when he remains just as confused as before, he moves on. “But don’t think of me, A-Qing. You’ve been through enough. You deserve to rest. You deserve peace.”

She cocks her head stubbornly. “Kill…him…”

Lan Xichen feels a pang of pity for both the girl and Xue Yang. “I know you feel some kind of…animosity towards him, but don’t you see that’s only keeping you trapped here? I’ve forgiven him for what he’s done. If you can’t let go of it and set yourself at rest, then allow him to repay you for what he's done by freeing you.”

A-Qing glances towards the silent Xue Yang. The makeshift Yin Iron is in his hand, and he’s staring just past her without so much as a trace of a smile on his face.

“…come….back…for…you…one…day…” she tells Xue Yang in a croaking rasp that’s truly awful to hear. Her clouded eyes glow like white-hot coals, and Xue Yang looks away.

Lan Xichen closes the door and goes to sit on the bed.

Xue Yang enters almost an hour later.

“It’s done,” he says shortly.

A bit shakily, Lan Xichen goes out into the courtyard. It's empty.

Xue Yang follows him out. “She’s over there,” he says. He jerks a finger at the large lacquered black coffin underneath the awning. Beside it is a smaller one in blue and gray.

Lan Xichen bows at the blue and gray coffin.

“The high tower is a hundred feet tall,

From here one's hand could pluck the stars.

I do not dare to speak in a loud voice,

I fear to disturb the people in heaven.

“Rest well, A-Qing.”

Xue Yang gives him the smallest of smiles. “If you think she got into heaven, I suppose there’s hope for any of us.”

Feeling slightly dizzy, Lan Xichen lays a hand on the black coffin to steady himself, and all expression drains from Xue Yang’s face.

Lan Xichen removes his hand.

He dreams that night of the lacquered black coffin.

He is both inside it and outside it, watching his hand creep over the coffin’s rim, watching himself watch himself as he rises, standing upright in the coffin.

His flowing white robes are stained with blood, the coffin filled with it. As he watches the coffin grows into an immense lake rimmed with lacquered black wood and bare white trees with clawed branches. Boiling blood laps at his waist as the coffin’s bottom sinks lower and lower, finally giving away altogether and plunging him into the crimson lake.

White and silver-clad arms reach up out of the roiling red surface to drag him down, covering his mouth so he can’t so much as scream as they rip him to shreds.

A-Yao is there too, grasping at his wrist, puncturing it, leaving a small red mark—

He wakes with a smothered gasp.

“What is it?” Xue Yang is sitting at the table, sifting through a stack of poems. He crawls back into bed with a handful of poems, pressing his forehead to Lan Xichen’s. “Another bad dream?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine—”

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine—”

Smoothing his hair, Xue Yang kisses his forehead, so gently that Lan Xichen almost cries.

He doesn’t deserve this tenderness.

Lan Xichen doesn’t, rather. But Xiao Xingchen—

Xiao Xingchen deserves everything.

Lan Xichen raises his hand, touching the bandages on his wrist.

He remembers now. A-Yao, seconds before he disappeared for the last time. Gripping his wrist, leaving a soul mark:

“Goodbye, Xichen. Find me—”

And then he had vanished in a handful of golden sparks, dissipating into the gloom of the temple.

Lan Xichen shuts his eyes against the memory.

“I was going through your old poems,” says Xue Yang quietly. “Do you remember this one? Your only good one.” He kisses Lan Xichen again, so he knows he’s only joking, and reads aloud:

“I tip my cup to the bright moon

The moon, its shadow, and I make three

Fleeting friends we three, the moon, its shadow and I

Still, let us make merry ’til the end of Spring

The moon swaying as I sing...”

“The black coffin,” Lan Xichen whispers into Xue Yang’s throat—Chengmei’s throat. His shoulder is pressed against Chengmei’s chest, and he can feel Chengmei’s heart start to pound at his words. “I know what’s inside it.”

Chengmei doesn’t bother asking him how he knows the coffin is black. “And?” he says, a new sharpness entering his voice. He’d snaked one arm around Lan Xichen while kissing his forehead, and now his fingers dig into the thin material of Lan Xichen’s inner robe.

Lan Xichen raises himself up onto one elbow, looks down at Chengmei. Chengmei stares up at him, face deathly pale.

“I think it’s time,” he says.

Xue Yang swallows. His breath seems stuck in his throat. “Time?”

Lan Xichen struggles to remember. Where had he learned what he’s about to say? At the Coffin House? At Guanyin Temple? The past month is a hazy blur of corpses and coffins and fever and rain. “I remember, when we wer at the temple…”

“Remember?”

Lan Xichen winces at his own clumsiness. “Not…not remember. Heard. As I…” He stops.

There’s an odd look on Chengmei’s face. “Not remember,” he repeats. “Heard, as you were coming back.”

“Yes. Exactly. I heard. It wasn’t at the temple, it was while you were sick here in the Coffin House. You said that you wanted to…to…” He sits up all the way and glances out the window at the large black coffin, standing out darkly against the gray of the courtyard. He’s finding it difficult to put his thoughts into words. “That I was not meant to stay like this. That the body in the coffin was meant to…”

He makes as if to get out of bed, and Chengmei grips his elbow, guiding him back beside him.

“Are you sure?” he asks Lan Xichen. He’s gazing at Lan Xichen as if he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, something Lan Xichen knows is not the case. After all, he does not look like Xiao Xingchen…

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Chengmei continues, his voice barely audible. “I thought you might…” He trails off. “I don’t know.”

“We’ll do it in the morning. One final use of the Yin Iron.”

Chengmei nods, swallowing hard, and turns so his back is to Lan Xichen, drawing Lan Xichen’s arm around him and covering his hand with both his own.

His glove is off.

Lan Xichen melts into the other man’s warmth. Outside it has begun to rain, a heavy patter as the large cold drops fall on the trees, fill the courtyard, speckle the window. But the roof is repaired, the Coffin House snug, Chengmei warm beneath the covers beside him.

Tomorrow…

Tomorrow, the mark on his wrist will be gone.

Tomorrow, everything will be as it should be.

A part of him knows it’s only a matter of time before the Lan find them. Only a matter of time before this interlude is over and the Coffin House collapses around them.

But for now...

Chengmei squeezes his hand.

Moonlight pours over the windowsill, casting long shadows on Lan Xichen’s face and filling the Coffin House with a soft silver glow.

He drifts into a dreamless sleep.

* * * *

Liked it? Spare a reblog? A kudos? A comment? It means a lot! : ) Without reblogs, nobody actually sees it.

#mdzsnet #xuexiao #lan xichen #xue yang #the untamed #a-qing #mdzs #xuelan #fractured ice au #1000 miles in its light

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your-disobedient-servant · 4 years

Text

Aaron Burr and his umbrella misfortunes

Home at 4. Caught in the rain, having yesterday left my umbrella at Brentford—no doubt lost. Dinner, B. and K. Read out the review of the "Life of Washington" by Marshall and Ramsay. The review is full as stupid, and as illy written, as either of the books.

- December 6, 1808

Loses umbrella for the first time. (Bonus throwing shade on Life of Washington and its review.)

Rose at ten. Such is the mode in London. Sor. at 1. Going up Haymarket, met Madame O., and walked with her half an hour. Went to the stage-house in Piccadilly to inquire for my umbrella, but with little hope. It was there, brought by the coachman; 1 shilling 6 pence. How very honest people are here, and yet I am cheated most impudently every hour!

- December 7, 1808

Finds the umbrella, has to pay to get it back.

Rose at 6. Set off at 7. I sleep very soundly in these stage coaches. By sleeping, however, forgot to ask for my umbrella, which I had left at Stanmore.

- December 14, 1808

When he seemingly forgets it again.

Stayed to dinner. Out at 10; raining, took K.'s umbrella, having lost my own. Koe overtook me, having run all that way in the rain; sent by Bentham to bring me back to sleep, he not suspecting that I was going off. Apologized.

- February 8, 1808

And again.

As I was writing the concluding line of the preceding page last evening (about 1 o'clock) an ill-looking fellow opened my door without knocking, and muttering in German something which I did not comprehend, bid me put out my candle. Being in no very placid humor at the moment, as you see, I cursed him and sent him to hell in French and English. He advanced and was going to seize the candle. My umbrella, which had a dirk in the handle, being near me, I seized it, drew the dirk, and drove him out of the room. Some minutes after I heard the steps of a number of men and looking out at my windows saw it was a corporal's guard. It then occurred to me that this Erfurt, being a garrison town with a French governor (de Vismes), there might probably enough be an order for extinguishing lights at a certain hour, and I had no doubt but the gentlemen I had just seen in the street were coming to invite me to take a walk with them. So I bundled up my papers and put them in my pocket to be ready for a lodging in the guard house. It was only the relief of the centinels' going round and who the impertinent extinguisher was I have not learnt.

- January 9, 1810

So much to unpack here I don’t know where to even start. I don’t know if my favourite thing is

that there was a stranger barging into his room insisting he puts out the candle,

that he crankily attacked him with a knife,

that the knife was hidden inside the handle of his umbrella,

that he suddenly remembered there was a law forbidding light after a certain hour

and was afraid the guards passing by might be coming for him

...or that he had a rare stroke of luck and nothing happened

Sor. 11 to the umbrella-mender; nothing done.

- April 20, 1810

I had no paraplui² and was resolved not to take coach if one had offered. Got home wet to the skin, from head to foot. Jul. made me a good fire, for my chimney was reformed a little. Changed clothes. Caf. blanc, and am quite refreshed.

2 For farafluit. Umbrella.

- October 18, 1810

Deliberating on the state of my finances, found that this sans sous state was not only inconvenient, but dangerous; for instance, this morning I hit a glass window with my umbrella, and had nearly forced it through one of three large panes. In such a case you have only to pay, and there's an end of it; but had I broken the pane and not been able to pay for it, I must infallibly have been taken before a commissionaire de police to abide his judgment.

- December 10, 1810

Burr what were you doing

Thence to Vanderlyn's to get more newspapers. While there it set in to rain; had no umbrella, and got wet.

- December 12, 1811

A brilliant morning. Sun shining bright for this hemisphere. Went out without my umbrella. Before I got one hundred yards it began to rain. Went back for the umbrella.

- February 13, 1811

At least you went back for it this time I guess?

Very grave and philosophical, and full of good resolutions. Have lost my umbrella! But it is better to begin in the usual form.

- February 18, 1811

Had breakfast at 6. Was sitting in the parlor below reading a newspaper. Received a smart click on the head. It was Madame. "Mais vous etes la tout tranquille. Vous laissez tous vos hardes pele mele. Voila votre paraplui. Vous ne pensez a rien. Vous etes come un enfant. Le diligence va partir et vous ne faites rien"².

2 For "Mais vous êtes là tout tranquille. Vous laissez toutes vos hardes pêle-mêle. Voilà votre parapluie. Vous ne pensez à rien. Vous êtes comme un enfant. Le diligence va partir et vous ne faites rien." "But you are quite at your ease there. You leave all your clothes lying pell mell. There is your umbrella. You don'tthink of anything. You are like a child. The diligence is going to leave you and you are doing nothing."

- May 18, 1811

After the fireworks were done, Mr. L. proposed that he and I should walk along the river and about the palace, to see the various illuminations. F. recommended this; we saw her in the carriage, and she went off; we were to take our chance for a hack. Mr. L., not being well acquainted with the ground, and the confusion produced by the variety of light, led us astray, and when we reached the river found ourselves 1/2 mile above the bridge. It now began to rain hard; we had no surtouts or umbrellas. When we reached the bridge, there was nothing to be seen which we had not before seen from a better point of view. We, therefore, took shelter in the first house we could get in ; but the crowd was so immense that even this was difficult. At length we had room to stand up under cover. Mr. L. then went out to hunt a carriage. All were engaged. He went in another direction, and, after an hour, returned without success. He was not to be discouraged. Out he went again. A guinea was asked for a seat to town, about six or seven miles; and then you must be crammed in with six or eight drenched people. At 1/2 p. 1 he returned with a carriage; at what price I know not, for he would not let me interfere.

- June 23, 1811

I should say this was the same day as, or shall I say directly after the “got brain freeze and thought he was dying” episode. Burr just can’t catch a damn break.

The chevalier led me au P. R., after strolling an hour, in a caffe into a cellar, which I will describe as well as I can. We took ice-creams. There was music and a ventriloquist. We agreed to neglect Madame F. At 1/2 p. 10 I got home. [...] Mem.: Left my new umbrella at that confounded ventriloquist's and am sure shall never see it again.

- June 30, 1811

My umbrella is lost; lost 32 francs. Paid for our ice-creams 3 francs.

- July 1, 1811

To near Luxembourg 5 to get an umbrella which some one, unknown, left in my room a fortnight ago, and which has, therefore, become my property by prescription. Paid for mending it, 3 francs.

- July 11, 1811

Score! Gains an umbrella instead of losing it for once.

The morning appearing fine, went out without my umbrella and got well wetted. It is against my conscience, you know, to hire a hack.

- January 29, 1812

Set out for Lincoln's Inn Fields, but hard rain coming on, and having taken no umbrella, the morning being fine, turned about and stopped a few minutes at Godwin's. Continued in all the rain; by musing, lost my way and got wet to the skin. Home at 4. Changed and made a great fire.

- January 30, 1812

Burr. Burr.

And here is where the fun begins:

Got home at 4, and discovered that I had lost my umbrella; a most serious misfortune, and little hope of recovering it, as I have no recollection where I stopped. It is impossible for me to buy one or to do without one.

- February 18, 1812

Slept near seven hours last night, and did not rise till 8. My umbrella hung heavy at my heart. Went to hunt for it. Walked back on the track I came from J. H.'s yesterday, and called at the places I had been; but no umbrella. It is finally lost, and I must submit to the inconvenience of getting wet and of spoiling my clothes.

- February 19, 1812

Then home, following again the track of my poor lost umbrella, but to no purpose.

- February 20, 1812

I had intended to have breakfasted at J. B.'s, for the purpose of taking the retorts early to friend Allen; but in the first place I slept till 9, and in the next it rained in torrents and you know my umbrella is on a voyage. [...] The rain setting in again, bought me the cheapest umbrella I could find that was large enough. Cost 10 shillings and 6 pence.

- March 2, 1812

THE END.

#because someone had to do it #Aaron Burr #and the umbrella #amrev #the history peeps #thp #long post #own post

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Note

hmm in the backseat u say…👀 im intrigued 🤔

omg please concept being there for those ig photos

(making this an ethan concept cause im soft for him today hehe)

“Bad fuckin’ vibes, I fuckin’ told you Grayson. We should have just taken the damn tesla.”

“Well what the fuck do you want me to do about it now Ethan? Huh? Do I look like a fuckin’ mechanic to you?” Graysons face was red, flustered as he tried to focus on the road, the yellow check engine light glaring up at him.

“This whole thing was your idea, and now we’re a dick year from home with a fucked up car and a pair of piss covered shorts in the trunk, and for what? Woo yeah, ‘let’s celebrate our candle launch by driving to the middle of fucking nowhere just to live in two tiny homes for three days’ when I fucking bought you one.”

You usually weren’t one to interfere in an argument between the boys, but considering you were also in the car that was 500 plus miles from home and they looked like they were about to break each others noses all over again, you figured it was time to step in.

“Guys. C’mon.”

Ethan whipped around, still red and puffed up with anger. He took one look at your raised eyebrows and deflated - he knew better than to try that shit with you.

“I know we’re all stressed out and that this didn’t go to plan-”

“Understatement of the fuckin’ year,” Grayson groaned.

“But we can still make it fun. We’re about 35 minutes away from the next town. Let’s get there, find an auto shop, see what we need to do about the porsche, and then figure it out from there.”

“Ah yes, my voice of reason,” Ethan smiled, putting just enough sass in his tone to make Grayson huff and earn a slap on the arm from you.

“Can you navigate? Please? Cause if he keeps talking I think I’m gonna kill him.”

Needless to say, the next 35 minutes were more than tense, and things only got worse when the only auto shop in town with the right parts was closed by the time you got there, the sun already setting.

“Okay voice of reason, now what?” Grayson asked, looking back at you from the driver’s seat in the parking lot of the shop. You frowned at them, trying to wrack your brain. More than anything, you were disappointed for them - this whole thing was supposed to be a fun, relaxing break, something they could look forward to after working so hard for the candle launch.

“Let me drive for a minute, I’ve got an idea.”

Twenty minutes later you were parked at the beach, and your plan was, effectively, going to absolute shit. Ethan looked at you like you were insane from the backseat when you told them to wait in the car and headed for the trunk, rummaging through your bag. You found what you were searching for, climbing back into the drivers seat with it tucked under your shirt.

“Okay cover your eyes.”

It was a bit adorable to see the two grown men cover their eyes in the backseat like small children, so you whipped out your phone, set it to record and propped it up on the dash with a grin before you got your set up going.

They were mumbling to each other but they stopped for a second when they heard the clicking of a lighter.

“Y/N what the fuck,” Grayson said, flinching away on instinct.

‘Chill, give me a second,” you mumbled, getting the candle set up on the middle console and lighting it quickly. “Okay, open.”

They blinked hard a few times, eyes flickering between you and the candle like the flame that was lighting up the darkening interior of the car.

“Figured we could all use a little positivity,” you grinned your cheesiest grin, pointing to the candle of the same name.

Both of them were silent for a moment, and then the three of you busted out laughing, the kind that you knew was going to lead to tears and the possible need for Grayson’s inhaler.

So you laughed. You laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation, the shit show that it had evolved into, the whole days worth of things going wrong.

To top it off? The rain started beating against the car, coming down in sheets practically.

“Perfect. Love to see it,” Ethan groaned, jabbing his hand towards the window and making all of you laugh all over again. In a moment of spontaneity you blew out the candle and threw your door open, running out into the rain fully clothed and down towards the ocean. You had extra clothes in the car, but it didn’t matter - you would have done it even if you hadn’t. The boys were a few steps behind you, whooping and throwing their arms up, running through the sand alongside you.

The three of you soaked it all in, danced around and laughed and lived until you were all shivering and running back to the car, throwing yourselves inside, breathless and full of adrenaline.

“I’ve always wanted to do that shit,” Grayson grinned, eyes wide and bright from the front seat. Ethan pulled you close to him in the back, pressing a kiss to your hair.

Eventually when you’d caught your breath you used the little compartment in the middle to climb back and get dry clothes, you all changed as best you could in the seats, Grayson being sure to close his eyes when you stripped down.

Exhausted from the fleeting adrenaline and day of driving, you all settled down to the sound of the rain, Grayson curled up in the reclined front seat fast asleep while you settled on top of Ethan, who just barely fit long ways across the backseat.

“Thanks for saving the trip,” he murmured into your hair. “And for being my human blanket. S’nice.”

“Just let me know if I squish you,” you teased, nuzzling up into him further.

“Never.”

You propped yourself up so you could see him, smiling when he brushed your wet hair out of your face. “I’m proud of you. I know this isn’t how you wanted to celebrate, and we’ll find some other way to do it once we get back home. But still, you should be so proud of yourself, and everything you put into all this. It’s amazing, and I’m not just saying that because I love you.”

He didn’t answer - you didn’t know at the time that it was because his throat was tight. Instead, he just pulled you down to kiss him, cupping your face as he held you steady above him and listened to the sound of the rain.

#I would like to order one of these scenarios pls #I'll pay shipping #:)#e:blurb #blurb #anon #ask

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blueberrypossum · 3 years

Text

No One Does It Like You Do Dastardly Danny x oc

Hi everyone! This is another Shiki x Danny fanfic that I loved writing (I love writing fighting scenes and also winter atmospheres because it’s so cozy! So this is Shiki again (because I love writing her it’s so much fun) I hope you guys don’t mind and hopefully you can just place yourself into it! @greaser-wolf and I just love going back and forth with her oc and mine and it’s so much fun and she is just so wonderful! I hope you guys enjoy!!

WARNING: There is usage of inappropriate words and adult themes ( such as sexual content that is pass making out)

(Also I know that the Hidden city doesn’t have a sun or moon or even weather but I want them to have an atmosphere XD )

Word Bank:

Big Cheese: Big Boss

We’ve been had- Been tricked or deceived.

Yuck- A foolish or stupid person

Music:

You brought your overcoat closer to you as the chilly breeze started to become quicker and snow started to dart through your vision at an easy pace. You tried to start a match between your hooves as you awaited for Danny and the others to investigate the bar, but after each click there was nothing but empty silence of the mountain.

It has been a hot minute since you’ve done a job somewhere this cold, of course it snowed in the Hidden City, but not like this. With your genetics, the cold wouldn’t really bother you, but without harnessing the true potential of your power, you were left shivering under your several layers of clothes.

The mountain side was gorgeous though, the glistening of the snowbanks shined in the afternoon sun and the yokai’s that lived in the hidden village were enjoying warm beverages and gentle conversations. The white layer under your boots crunched as you continuously moved back and forth to keep warm as your boyfriend was taking a little too long to ask where this polar bear yokai was.

When you were given the opportunity to go after one of the most psychotic war lords by your boss, you just couldn’t say no. But you weren’t given a team in the progress, so one you told Danny about it, him and the rest of the Mud Dogz created a plan to help you, with a small price to pay as well.

You were honestly glad that Danny and the others wanted to join you, not only were they your friends, but you couldn’t really trust your teammates in the force. Too bad that Mickey had to do other business and had to sit this one out.

You finally spotted the usual purple wearing rat in the distance, his long brown coat flapping behind him as a gust of wind danced into town, two thin figures close behind him as they made their way over. Frost dusted over Danny’s whiskers as he came up to you, his hands rubbing each other under his gloves as Nova and Leonard joined as well. Leonard was the most bundled out of all four of you, his green body shivering under the black coat he wore.

Nova seemed to be the only one who enjoyed the weather, her nose twitching every time a flake landed on her.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” The ogre asked, an eyebrow raised as she gave him a sly smile.

“When you’re this hot the cold never affects you.”

“....”

“I’m kidding! I’m a Mountain Fishing Cat, this is my element.”

You rolled your eyes at Nova’s comment and looked up at Danny, who had curled himself up close to your side for any connection of warmth.

“Did you find anything out?” You asked him as Nova and Leonard continued to have their fake argument.

Dastardly Danny shook the excess snow off his shoulders and hat as you watched his breath roll out like a cloud.

“Apparently the Big Cheese is holding up somewhere not far from here, hidden within the mountain,” he said with a low huff, his voice going quiet as a family walked by, their children running around them as they played in the snow.

Till’ then we should rent out a nearby cabin, Len said that there is a renting inn nearby.”

You pulled your beanie tighter onto your head as you let out another quiver, the mountain’s thin air starting to get to you. The rat yokai took notice of your sudden chill and unraveled his large coat and then the smaller one he wore under it, his hands gently placing the toasty coat on you.

“Danny I’m fine-”

“Yes, yes, I know, sugar. But I’m sweating like a hog-”

The look you gave him as you settled the coat on you made him stop in his tracks and an embarrassed look crossed his face and for the first time you actually saw Dan flustered.

“Uh, I meant..What I meant to say-”

“Ha! Danny actually messed up on a slang. Maybe Leonard will be cheerful for once!” Nova purred as she joined the conversation, Leonard right at her heels as they joined in on the full group. It seemed that the comment struck a nerve in the ogre and he looked down at the feline, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“Only in your dreams, kitten.”

Woahhhhhhh, where did that come from?

Both you and Danny were in amazement as a dash of red flared against Nova’s face, and it wasn’t from the cold. It was good to see your friend get bashful for once instead of you and you grinned at the sight, taking in the heat and smell from Danny’s jacket. His cologne was trailed with cigarettes and old spice, and the fur that was sewn into the inside rubbed comfortably against your fur.

Danny placed an apology kiss on your head as Nova and Leonard continued to banter back and forth and you took in the soft texture of his mouth as you sucked in an icy breath.

“Alright you two, we’re burning daylight. Let’s rent a cabin,” you ordered, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the relief that flashed in Nova’s multi-colored eyes as she headed towards one of the wooden signs that showed the option of renting out an isolated cabin, her tail curled against her back.

“This is gonna be a long weekend.”

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You four were able to rent a two bedroom cabin that was a few miles out and packed your bags into a waiting car that would drive you to the location. Leonard wasn’t the happiest to hear that they could only get two rooms, and commented that he would sleep on the couch, but Nova kept flinging comments that he didn’t want to cuddle with her.

“We better hope dat’ our room is on the other side of the house,” Danny whispered to you as Nova would turn from her seat from the front to fight back with Leonard.

“So we don’t hear them?”

Danny shot you a sinister smirk as the arm that was wrapped around you tightened itself.

“More like they don’t hear us.”

The surprise that surfaced over your face only fueled the rat more as you squirmed in the car seat, the warm air that was blasted throughout the car was no longer nice, but overly steaming.

The worker checked the cabin for food and cleaning supplies and left instructions if they needed anything.

The wooden cabin was decorated with lemon and wine, candles and lanterns lit up the shack anda fire crackled in the fireplace. The front door brought you to the living room on the left and the kitchen on the right and the stairs were a few feet away right as you walked in. The only thing upstairs was one of the bedrooms and a door in the kitchen led to the other spare bedroom. After searching you all found that the bathroom was under the stairs.

“I’m guessing the couple gets the upstairs room?” Nova asked as she took off her coat and placed it on the coat stand by the door. Danny sent the feline a cocky smile as his hand grazed over your lower hip.

“You betcha.”

Flustered words came out of your mouth as you moved your bags upstairs, almost tripping your way up to keep Danny’s wandering hands and him also trying to carry your bags.

The only thing upstairs was an open room and an extra bathroom, a large king bed laid up against the wall and furry rugs were enriched onto the wooden floor. Dressers and shelves were dotted around the room and all four of you started to unpack and get yourself settled. You undress yourself down from your layers until you only wear a black long-sleeve shirt with a maroon cardigan and elastic jeans to keep you warm.

“Ya sure you don’t need help taking off the rest?”

“You know that Nova and Leonard are downstairs, right?”

“They gotta sleep at one point, darling.”

“And so do we!”

You dodged Danny’s hug attack and skipped down the stairs to the sound of light music humming throughout the cabin. A delicious smell had drifted into the air as you made your way to the kitchen and found Nova sitting on the kitchen counter while Leonard was behind the stove, his fingers working on dinner. You barely heard Leonard telling the feline to not get any fur into the food as Danny came up beside you, his body wrapped in grey long-sleeve and work pants.

The tabby pulled her hair up into a ponytail and continued to read the book in her hands, the cream turtleneck she wore blazed against the fire’s shadow.

You looked over Leonard’s shoulder and saw the rice, herbs, and sauces that were stirring in the pan while he separated an egg yolk from its whites.

“So, can all members of the Mud Dogz cook?” You asked as you sat at the island of the kitchen.

“Mickey is not good at cooking, never ask him to cook for you.”

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“Nah, toots, never eat what that eel cooks up. Not after the meatloaf.”

“Oh don’t even remind me of that day! My stomach still doesn’t sit right after that.”

A confused laugh escaped your mouth as the ogre continued to make dinner, Nova handing him ingredients that he needed while flipping through her book. The melody that came from the bluetooth speaker from the living room swayed into the kitchen, and the cozy and friendly atmosphere made you loosened up as the conversation continued on without you, your body heading to the fridge in search of milk.

The scent of dinner floated around as you dug through the cabinets, Nova moving over when you came around the area she sat. You finally found the hot chocolate packets as Leonard had just finished up the meal, the steam rising from the mixture of rice, vegetables, and potato chips made your stomach growl with hunger.

You set the ingredients you were gathering aside as you four enjoyed the dinner, the cooked egg and spice made your cheeks spill with warmth. There were a few comments thrown here and there, such as going over the plan and what they were gonna do with the money. Your main concern was just getting the guy, Shia Albright, and he was on the top list of criminals for a reason; you just hoped that you and your friends could handle the polar bear yokai.

Apparently your concern was noted because a hand under the table was placed over your thigh.

You looked down and watched as Danny gave your leg a squeeze of reinsurance, his nails digging into the fabric.

It had been several months dating Danny, and you were surprised that it was the most love and happiness you’ve had in a long while. Even with his open book personality, there was still a lot more to uncover from the rat yokai. It was pleasing to learn from Danny, to give him the chance he had been fighting for since the beginning. He was very open to you, with how he felt, what he wanted to do with you. And of course it made you squeal with exhilaration, but you both kept things slow. You were still a cop, and he was still a thief.

After dinner, Nova and Danny did the dishes while you started to make the hot chocolate. Your hooves worked carefully to boil the milk and then get out the whipping cream, happy to find that they also bought the chocolate syrup you had placed on the shopping list.

“You are so washing that pot afterwards,” Nova commented, her paws drying themselves on a cloth after placing the dishes in the drying rack.

“With how good it’ll taste, you’ll be licking the pan clean,” you joked back, pouring the creamy liquid into multiple cups before decorating them with the heavy cream and dark liquid. You found a platter to carry the drinks and you brought them over to the living room, Leonard was in one of the chairs, Danny on the couch, and Nova on the floor. Each of them gave you their own thank you as you let them grab a mug off the tray, leaving it on the floor as you got comfortable next to Danny, your legs curling up to you.

The soft guitar played in the background as snow drifted outside, Nova flipping her nails through her book, Leonard going over the plans notes in his hands, and Danny was holding you tight, one hand held the drink and the other held you. And within the guitar strings and the casual crackle of the fire, the dread that was growing on you was almost unnoticeable. Almost.

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The summit air was brutal against your fur as you and your group headed up to the hidden factory, your boots making deep imprints in the white ground.

The plan was simple, you had your laser and taser gun, and once you and Danny found the opportunity to get Shia, you would pounce while Leonard and Nova went after the gold they had been mining for in the factory, a lightness spell to carry it was placed on the bag the ogre carried.

It almost seemed that it didn’t matter how many coverings you wore, the winter hands reached around into your body and gripped every nerve ending.

Nova was the only one up ahead, her long legs carrying her easily through the snow as she led up to one of the broken areas of the factory; Leonard had scouted out in the blueprints, the metal and scrap of the building being torn away as if a large animal bit into it. The tabby hopped over one of the uprooted pieces of metal and plummeted into the darkness below and you followed, your feet landing harshly on the metal floor as the boys followed, the only light being seen was a glow stick, the orange glow outlining you and everyone else.

The feline handed Leonard the light stick as he pulled out the layout of the workshop, his footprints leaving weak imprints of snow on the black floor. You tried to flick a flame between your hooves, but all you got was the snapping echo of the aftermath. Ever since the run-in with your dad a month ago, your powers seemed to bury themselves into your body, where you couldn’t even feel the swirling ball of warmth that usually danced in your veins. It almost made you feel useless in situations like this, when the group needed fire, it just seemed like you weren’t the match for it to light.

But your feelings were gonna have to wait as you heard the slightest pitter patter against the metal and you pushed your friends up against the wall in a swift move. One of Shia’s guards walked slowly by, his body decked out in warm armor and a gun was strapped against his chest. The male yokai strolled down the hallway, the flicker of his flashlight slowly dying out and the staircase went silent.

Once the cost was clear, Leonard turned to Danny and handed him a copy of the map.

“Alright, once you have him, meet up at the F2 tower, he should be in his office,” Leonard ordered, even with being in an isolated area, his breath still collected in front of him.

Danny took the extra map and you eyed it at his side. Shia’s office was up several floors, and you both knew that there would be groups of henchmen on lookout. But, with stealth and silence, you and Danny could make it up there effortlessly.

“Stay safe you two,” Nova purred quietly and her and the ogre dashed into the shadows, the only sign of them ever being there was the leftover snow from their bodies drifting off.

You rolled your shoulders as your biceps tensed under the cotton shirt and Danny turned around and handed you the map.

“Lead the way, toots.”

A grin leveled on your face as you took the map and started the walk up the first flight of stairs, your boots eagerly carrying you up, Danny right at your heels. You ran into your first guard at the third floor, the husky yokai let out a yelp of surprise before your fist came into contact with his snout, and then your knee into stomach, and with one single swipe you had your taser in his chest, a loud thud vibrated against your feet as he made contact with the ground.

The next flight had you and Danny taking out multiple guys, both of you darting between crates and mining equipment and you took out yokai’s with your taser and Danny took his fair share out with a knocking out technique.

After minutes of fighting and sneaking around, you both finally made it the top and final floor, the staircase leading straight to Shia’s office.

The hallway that looped to the office was long and dark, the only sound the mirrored around was the old factory settling to its age. Dastardly was flanking you as your fingers grazed over the metal door, the bitterness of the cold traveled from the metal to the inside of your glove. The door was already unlocked from its handle and you pushed it open, the unholy light that dripped out of the room pooling over you like water.

You pointed your gun through the doorway and you took in the large office. The room was cold and white fur littered the ground as you continued further in, Danny’s tail curled in dread as you got closer to the large office chair, the end of the laser gun pushing the leather seat to the side.

No one was there, nothing was there except a half done cigar that sat in an ashtray. Your small brows furrowed in confusion as you placed the gun back in the holster on your thigh as your hands started to dart around his desk.

“He’s...he’s schedule said that he would be here, if he’s not here, then where is he?” You asked out loud. The office had large windows and Danny peaked his head out to watch the soldiers quickly dart around, his arms crossing in question.

You searched his drawers and file cabinets for any information, but even if you did find anything, you still wouldn’t have him in chains.

And then the door slammed shut and the sound of a blockade over it blasted through the cracks.

“Well dat ain’t good,” Danny grunted and the sound of hushed orders and then a slow, irritable ticking clicked throughout the room. Your ears snapped with the rhythm and then the sound of gunfire was heard in the distance.

The clicking was getting faster, and with all the yokai’s running away…

“We’ve been had!”

Danny grabbed your hand and raced over to the furthest window on the left, his hand taking hold of your laser pistol and shot through the clear material until the glass shattered into falling pieces, like icicles hanging off the side of a house. There was a torn edge that led over to a large scissor lift and your boots scrapped over the broken glass, the grey outer layer held your stance steady as the beating of the hidden bombs continued.

“Ladies first!” The rat exclaimed as you both looked at the jump ahead. You sent him a hot glare but got ready and pushed off, one of the blasts from the concealed bombs went off and the heat waved knocked you forward and you landed hard against the platform, the pop in your shoulder caused a grunt to escape your throat.

You got up and looked up at Danny, whose figure was still against the window frame, the blast of the bomb sooted the side of his body.

“Alright, your turn!” You screamed up at him and then let out a wail as the scissor lift groaned under you and the metal bars started to creak under the new weight.

The rat took a step back and with a graceful leap he landed right next to you, his hand instantly pulled the level on the side just as the rest of the bombs started to go off one by one. He blocked his body over you as flying debris exploded around you in a ray of black and orange. The impact of the blast knocked both of you over, sending Danny sliding next you and over the side.

“Danny!”

The hanging platform whined as the weight was shifted over to one side and you scooted over to the ledge, your hand gripping Danny’s wrist before his claws slipped from the ledge. His mass was nothing you were used to, but you were used to him being on your back, not over the side of a dangerous overhang that could collapse any minute. The metal shafting and room was groaning with pain as the pillars and other rooms started to fall apart due to the explosion.

You pulled your other hand around him and stood up, your boosts digging into the black outline of the scissor lift as you brought him back up and before he could thank you the ramp gave way and dropped towards the first level.

Curse words sprinted out of both of your mouths as you held onto the sides as the platform crashed into the floor, sending you both rolling to the opposite side as the destroyed roof rammed into the scissor lift once it hit the bottom.

A fit of coughs lashed out of your mouth as the dust swirled around you, the light creaking of broken metal and fire ringing in your ears as your name was called out.

“Shiki?! Shiki!”

You pushed yourself up and hissed at the small cuts and bruises that were scattered over your body, but you counted your blessings to find no major injuries. The rat’s voice continued to vibrate against the splintered mess.

“Danny?! Are you alright?!” You called to him and then took several steps back as more debris gave way, taking you further away from the wreck and Danny. His voice became muffled and you just had to tell yourself that he was fine, that you needed to meet him and the others at the tower.

Hateful tears sprang in the corner of your eyes as you made your way through the factory, your legs dodging small piles of flames as you started to recognize the area you were in. Of course this plan had failed, this mob boss knew everything about everyone, and he wanted to make sure that the death of you would be a prime example to not go after him. That only gave you more rage, more strength to go after him as you crawled through a small hole created by shattered mining equipment.

You reached for the door in front of you until two forms crashed through it, your body flattening itself against the wall as the two balls of fur ripped each other apart. A cat-like yowl came from one of the forms and you recognized the winter outfit that was torn from battle.

“Nova?!”

The cat then swiped her claws across the wolf yokai’s face that made him let go of her. She pushed herself against the wall and used the hard surface to kick the yokai into one of the multiple holes that lead into the mines, his terrifying howls haunting the rocky surface.

Nova turned to you with an astonished expression, a cut on her head bleeding a trail down her face.

“Are you okay? Where’s Leonard?”

“We got seperated, but he has the gold. What about Danny? And Shia?”

“This was a setup! They knew we were coming.”

Nova frowned as you both started to look for another way out, her tail whizzing back and forth like a strip of rope.

“This wasn’t a setup, another revival gang showed up. Apparently that dumb polar bear thought that he would make his hideout into a trap so he can get rid of them.”

It felt wrong but joy pulsed through your body as you found a torn apart wall that led outside, the light snowfall was now a blizzarding storm. If Shia was fighting against a rival group, then he didn’t know that an officer was here, and you could still get the jump on him.

The feline started to proceed over to the watchtower F2 but you grabbed her hand and tugged on it.

“We can still get Shia! He’ll be so distracted that he won’t see us coming!”

Nova’s eyes flashed down to you and then over to the tower, her left ear flicking with concentration along with her tongue licking off the excess blood from the corner of her mouth.

“Alright, if we can find him under ten minutes.”

You led in the opposite direction and towards one of the gaping holes of the mines, the echoes of gunfire and battle cries filled your ears like music.

The snowstorm was slowly getting worse, the petals now turned into sharp splinters as your vision started to get covered with white. The crunch under your combat boots was barely heard and you could barely feel the metal pathway that was under you, your covered hands holding onto the side as a large gust of wind tried to push you over. The bellow’s of the yokai’s started to get louder and with one flick of your thin ear, you were spinning around to push Nova out of the way from a hidden attacker.

“Look out!”

The female snow leopard leapt onto you, her claws shredding out of her gloves and into your coat and a low hiss growed out of her white throat. Your hooves wacked into her nose as you pressed yourself further into the railing and with the yokai’s extra burden of weight the rusted pipes gave way and folded over, taking you and the henchmen with you.

“Shiki!” Nova called for you but it was barely heard as you and the snow leopard rolled through the snow and down the slope, away from the factory and the watchtower. Even with the smooth snow to impact your tumble, the frozen floor underneath still stabbed itself into you as you both came to a sliding halt.

Your body was freezing now, the cold hands of winter grasping over your form and it took all your strength to raise yourself up. Far from the factory, you and the female snow leopard had landed over a frozen lake, ice holding your weight easily as the war around you continued. Not far from the lake were several military vans and henchmen shooting bullets and arrows at two hidden figures behind separate crates.

“Danny! Leonard!”

The two yokai turned at the sound of their names and spotted you. Leonard had a few cuts scrapped over his body and his shirt was torn while Danny was covered in more soot than before and his hat was gone, but both seemed relatively fine. When the rat caught sight of you, a gust of comfort filled his hollow lungs to see that you were still breathing. His hand planted against the crate he was behind to get up but he instantly lunged back down when more ammo was shot at him.

You made a step towards him but a blur of chalk pounced for you out from nothingness, her claws tearing up the ice surface like nails against a chalkboard. You dodged a swipe from her and then a kick with your hands, your hands going for the laser pistol from your thigh but the flexible feline broke it out of your grip, the weapon skating over the frozen water.

Jeez! Is every cat yokai like this?

She drove you further into the middle of the lake, your boots having trouble keeping friction over the slippery exterior while the snow leopard didn’t wear any form of shoe except for her pants connecting with the middle of her paws, but it kept her upright as she continued to chase you.

Nova, if you can hear me right now, know that you and I are having a fighting session once this all over!

The woman jumped for you and you swiftly moved to the side, and with one kick of your foot it sent the leopard back to the bank of the lake, her face going straight into a pile of snow near the battle Danny and Leonard were in. You couldn’t help but smirk at the small victory, but a pair of azure eyes poked from the heap of white, fury marking the snow leopard’s face as she looked around.

Near her was a minecart filled of pickaxes and safety hats and her paws swaddled one of the weapons, a wicked smile on her face as she neared the lake once again and with one hit she stabbed the axe into the frozen glass and millions of broken cracks surfaced and the watery hell took you down.

“SHIKI!”

Danny was on his feet as you disappeared into dark liquid, the clumps of ice drifted around the spot you had fallen into. Leonard was by his side now and as the rat started to race towards the lake, the ogre tackled him and rolled them both behind a tree as the polar bear’s henchmen started to make their way closer.

“Are you crazy?! You can’t survive that temperature! You’ll also die before you get there!”

“Get off of me you bloody yuck! She will drown!”

Before Danny was going to elbow his friend right in the jaw, a pair of legs jogged right past them and they glanced up to see Nova racing towards the half-ruined lake, her arms quickly working off her two layers of coats and her cream turtleneck until her grey thermal showed. She then hopped over the snow leopard yokai and took the pickaxe from her grey paws, her momentum slamming the ax into the shattered ice until a large enough hole was created and the Mountain Fishing cat jumped in without another thought.

“What is wrong with these girls?!” Leonard exclaimed as he let Danny go and knocked out a guy who came too close, his fingers taking control of the rifle the henchmen had in his talons.

Danny could hardly hear the leader as he searched over the lake, trying to find your figure drifting in the cold liquid.

He had never felt fear like this, as if he was the one drowning instead of you. He ignored the ongoing dogfight around him as every second that ticked by felt like lifetimes. With how shattered the pool of water was, the rat yokai saw how strong and recentless the current was underneath, the tide pushing up against anything it could get its grasp on. Including you.

And then him and Leonard saw it. It was barely visible but a white paw came crashing out of the ice on the other side of the lake, the enlarged nails broke into the ice like an anchor and created long marks as the creature heaved itself out.

Danny felt his friend next to him lose his breath as Nova broke the surface, water droplets falling down her hair and fur as she pulled herself out of the water, and in her arms was a waterlogged you, steam rolling off both of you as your friend dragged you out.

The men didn’t have to have sonic hearing to hear the feline’s grunts as she dragged you over to the shore, Nova’s paws working on your chest as she performed CPR.

Danny’s body hurdled into action as he stole the gun out of Leonard’s hands and shot at the criminals crowding them, his dead-eye like aim taking out over four before he started to haul ass over to you and Nova, not even giving Leonard a heads up as the black-haired stared dumbfounded at the rat before joining the retreat.

You couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t taste or see anything, all you felt was the cold. It violated you and suffocated you as you felt the water slush around in your lungs. And then the pressure, something or someone was placing pressure on your filled lungs to the point your chest couldn’t take it anymore and you perked up, your head turning over to vomit up the lake water you had swallowed.

You could barely open your eyes as you tried to take in your surroundings, but it was so cold, why was it so cold?

“Shiki! Shiki are you alright?!”

A bubbly groan came out of your waterlogged throat and you thought to yourself that you would never drink water again and that you hated winter. Your head was exposed to the elements and you realize that your beanie was gone.

Your dark eyes were able to open to peer up, the flakes of snow coating your eyelashes. Nova was soaked leaning over you, her fur drooped with the soggy water and her whiskers started to become white. But another figure was coming into your vision and as you tried to warn your friend, all that came out was a backbreaking shiver.

The cat then let out a cry as she was grabbed and tossed to the only unbroken part of the lake and all you could do was watch in horror as the snow leopard started to attack your friend, nothing protecting Nova except her thin thermal shirt and her own wits.

Nov...Nova,” you shivered out and your hand reached up as the evil leopard took a hold of Nova’s neck and slammed her into the ice, the fragile solid breaking under her. Hands were wrapped around you now and your freezing hand went for your taser but the familiar and tender scent of Danny wafted your senses.

“Dann...Danny?”

“I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here.”

“No..Nova needs..”

“Leonard has it handled, we need to get ya outta here.”

The yokai lifted you up easily, the crisp drops of water that fell from your clothes barely made it to the ground as they froze. Even with your head making contact with the rat’s soft fur, it was almost nothing against your frozen skin and stiff fur.

As your boyfriend carried you deeper into the woods, you turned your head and spotted Leonard and Nova not far behind, the bitter color of crimson dripped from Nova’s claws and Leonard’s hands.

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You all four made it back to the cabin in one piece and Nova was quick on getting her boots off and looking over at you.

“Danny, I need you to go and take off her clothes.”

“I’m sorry? What?”

“Because if she sits in those wet clothes she’ll get hypothermia! And then she can die! So take her upstairs and get her undressed and in a new pair of clothes!”

You could tell Nova was panicking, when her voice rose over and past a joking manner you knew she was nervous and you could hear her dive into the kitchen and started to search. You wanted to argue that you were fine, but you found no power behind your muscles and all you could do was give a little cry of pain as your body was pounded with the cold.

When Danny made it up to your room he sat you on the bathroom floor and started to derope you. His fingers scrambled over the black coat, and then the green overcoat, the maroon cardigan and then your black sweater was all off. You were cold to the touch and your brown fur was dyed to a darker oak. Even with the cold layers off of you your body reacted violently against it and your arms wrapped around yourself. Danny felt his heart shatter like the lake that consumed you and placed a small kiss on the top of your head, as if he was afraid you would break with just one touch.

You had to help him take off the two layers of pants you wore until you laid almost nude in front of him and the harsh flush of warmth crossed your face, but it just made you feel a lot more sicker. The rat saw the temperature in your face change and he got up and to your dresser, not one flash of emotion came across his face as he headed a new outfit for you.

“You got this, call if ya need me,” he whispered silently to you and then left the bathroom and leaned against the wall next to you.

You couldn’t but try to roll your eyes as you tried to ease your bra off. Even in a life or death situation he was still going to be a gentleman towards you. It was hard though, the cold undergarment clinged into you like glue and it took you several minutes to even get both of them off. You threw the wet clothes aside and placed the ones Danny had handed you and the cotton grey long-sleeve and black leggings under sweatpants were on after drying yourself off.

You could still feel the sickness trying to settle on you and a sneeze blew out of your face.

“Gesundheit.”

“You..you speak german?”

“And french, if you’re catching my drift.”

A laugh curled out of your throat but it came out in a fit of coughs. From the restroom you heard Nova call for Danny and his light footsteps drifted away from the room and down the stairs.

Nova and Leonard were in new clothes and the only evidence of Nova falling into the lake was the dampness in her fur and the silent shiver that drove through her body every few minutes.

“Okay, keep her warm and under blankets. No placing her in hot water either.”

“Rag-a-muffin, why are ya telling me this?”

“Leonard is coming with me to find elderberries, it will help make a beverage that will make her feel better and push away any case of fever. But you need to bring her temperature up.”

“And how am I supposed to do dat’?”

“You’re her boyfriend, figure it out.” The feline joked and slammed the front door.

Danny, for the first time in his life, felt an awkward hotness in his stomach as he headed up the stairs to find you curled up in the bed, the vicious shakes that erupted under the sheets made your boyfriend worry, and then Nova’s words came in mind.

The snowfall had slowed down to a gentle delay and the cabin was sprinkled with the light sugar. Danny started the fireplace that was settled in your room, his calloused hands throwing the pieces of firewood into the hungry flame.

His frame floated over to your trembling form and joined you under the blankets, his hands wrapping around you and you instantly curled into his chest, your hooves digging into his back as you tried to absorb every ounce of warmth he had to offer. A rough chuckle vibrated against your head and you buried yourself into his exposed chest fur. Danny placed a soft kiss on your head, and then your cheeks, and then the tip of your snout, and he waved his hand under your chin to look up at him and he kissed you.

The contact from his lips sent a jolt of fire into your throat and you took in the kiss with every pint of strength you had left. But when his body jostled to where he was hovering over you, one hand holding himself up next to your head and the other holding your head up to meet his, you realized the eagerness behind each kiss and release.

His body was over you now, his legs tangled with yours as you sunk further into the mattress, his fingers playing with the tufts of fur behind your head as you felt your heart rate pick up rapid speed. Your hooves held onto his back as he continued to tease you with each feverish kiss, with each touch over your curves and muscle. And as he peppered kisses up your jawline and near your ear, a growl full of R’s rolled into your eardrum.

You instantly had to close your legs as your very core was rocked and you no longer felt cold as heat traced itself throughout your body. He had never growled to you before, especially rolling his R’s like that. This man always had something under his sleeve, but at this moment, you couldn’t think straight, as if every peck of his mouth and the hands that advanced over you made you braindead. The keenness in his movements as his snout started to make its way down your neck created a moan out of your mouth, your voice raspy and needy.

Another hust growl went against your throat and you shivered, and your heart bounced in your ribcage when you realized that it wasn’t from the cold, and that this male was going to heat you up like a oven. His hands were slowly riding up your shirt, his nails tenderly digging into your fur and his thumb doing slow and taunting circles under your chest.

He was teasing you and you squirmed under his hold, but a feather-like moan popped out of your mouth as his teeth grazed your throat and shoulder.

“Danny,” you breathed out and you felt the mammal over you tense up and he stopped, a savage-like look in his eyes as he took in the shameless sight of you. The redness was peaking out of your fur and your chest heaved with pressure and he took a large notice with how your legs were crossed.

“Say it, doll.”

You knew what he wanted you to say, you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.

“Please.”

He was on you like a cat on a mouse, his large build practically swallowing you whole as he took full control. The rat was a sucker for you, almost like a kid in a candy store, wanting to have every single bite. He effortlessly started to mark you as his, the small little squeals that started to rise into the house made his blood pump and you were pushing up against him now, chestnut fur flushed against oak fur as you both tried to get closer to each other. His hands were fully under your shirt now and your neck was covered in small little black spots, all perfectly lined up as the rim of his mouth went for the hollow of your throat and your spine bending to give him full access to your body.

You honestly didn’t care if Leonard and Nova came back early, the heat that rushed through you like water through a pipe was almost too much to bear and you felt himself bump up against you and a heartful gasp came out.

Oh gosh he was too much for you, the senses he spiked within your body was a remedy you never thought you needed.

His warm hands felt good against your chest and you groaned into his mouth, his own vocals sending a growl in return. You were sweating now as you escaped to get a breath of air and you could feel the hot pants from Danny as he left more love marks on you, much lower than your neck. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet and your tail wiggled with ecstasy as his hands spread your legs apart so he could get closer, his large mitts now explored your back and your rump.

You both were burning under the blanket and the fire felt like nothing against your heated fur, you felt like you could be rubbing up against the sun for all you know.

Danny had you pressed against the headboard now, and every vibration from your thighs or your arms when he touched you made him want you more, he desired you more. The hunger and ache he had for you was beyond unbearable and having you to himself without work or anyone getting in the way was paradise.

The bruises under your skin ached but Danny’s hands were gentle over the purple areas and he was gentle with you and... The emotion that roared in your heart was stabbing you, pinching at your lungs as you continued to kiss Danny, his tongue sneaking its way into your mouth and you gladly accepted it. And between the kisses and the cries of pleasure that was spilling out both your mouths, you let out the holy words that he had wanted to hear from you since the day you started dating.

“I love you, Dan.”

The male rat stopped in his tracks and looked down at you, surprise spinning in his eyes as he looked down at you and you swore you saw his eyes flash with heartache. You were so out his league, he would always believe that you were better off without him. You wouldn’t have to worry about your job, you wouldn’t have to stress over the idea of being caught with him, but you stayed with him, you cared for him, and now you loved him.

His hand caressed your cheek and you were practically putty in his hands as he said against your mouth.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

And he told you that over and over as he undressed you once again.

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The next morning was hard to wake up too. You woke up the burning glint of the sun over the snow and you went to roll over but you were held as if prisoner. Strong arms were around you and soft snoring was brushed up against your back. Flashes of last night danced through your head and the heat between your legs started to flicker again. You unraveled yourself from his hold and placed his forgotten long-sleeve shirt over yourself and your sweatpants and headed downstairs.

It was quiet in the lodge and there was no sign of Leonard on the couch, you walked over to Nova’s door and the shocked gasp couldn’t stop itself as you saw the ogre curled up with the feline, her body rolled up in a ball next to his sleeping figure.

You could only imagine the awkwardness once one of them woke up and you tiptoed back to the kitchen to find a wine-colored drink on the counter with a note.

“Dear Shiki, drink this once you wake up, but by how the cabin was shaking and how you were hollering like you were dying, I’m guessing you might not need this ;). Love, Nova”

Humiliation rolled in your stomach as you took a few sips of the drink, your fist pounding against your chest once you realized that it was an alcoholic beverage. You would give anything to just have a cup of coffee.

You headed back upstairs and for a split second, you remembered why you were truly here. Shia had gotten away, and even though it was a successful heist, it was a failure of a bounty hunt. You felt shame hit you as you failed your mission to get the polar bear. But once you made it up the stairs and saw Danny laying in the spot you had been sleeping in and his hand hanging off the side of the bed as if going after you, waiting for you.

It might’ve been a failure of a job, but you won something today, you won him.

And as you opened up the blankets and let his arms once again entrap you, you felt like the only thing you failed at was not telling him sooner.

#rottmnt #rottmnt mud dogs x reader #rottmnt mud dogz #rottmnt mud dogs #rottmnt dastardly danny #rottmnt dastardly danny x reader #rottmnt danny x reader #rottmnt loathsome leonard #tmnt #rottmnt reader x mud dogz

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years

Text

Blood Roses

Dark!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, Kidnapping (That’s all I got cause I’m not doing smut) Summary: You don’t remember anything since that crash. But someone who claims to be your husband is taking very good care of you. Until you found out the truth of your real life.

This goes for the weekly challenge! The Moodboard choosing is up above! If you want to join! Click here Weekly Challenge

Going into 3 challenges which is crazy? I’ve never done that before

As always lovely people @donutloverxo @captain-a-rogerss

Check out the other two challenges!

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork - Challenge Time

@jtargaryen18 - 30 Days of Chris

Might seem familiar to some, it does have similarities to a movie I once watched.

~~~

“Y/N!” He roars out, you were whimpering, running through the forest with a large limp. Your head turning back every second and turn you took on the trail. “I’m not in the mood for this!” He continues.

He sounded closer than usual and you immediately slid down the hill and hid in the leaves. Your wheezing and cries were audible so you closed your hand over your mouth.

His broad shoulders came into view and his pace was quick down the trail, you knew he was gonna find you and catch you quickly. Your ankle ached, you stood up and stepped on a twig, causing it to snap. You gasped. “Where are you, sweetheart?”

. 24 Hours Earlier .

He said your home was miles from town. You remembered what he said to you, keeping you in the house and took care of you. He was there when you first woke up. Claiming to be your husband, he bought you your favorite flowers. Red roses.

He held your hand with the wedding rings touching each other as they come together once again. He kissed your knuckles and smiled softly.

“You’re safe with me.”

Not knowing who he was, he tried to name all the things you two used to do together. He said you would ride on his motorcycle at nights. He even brought you to work to meet his friends. Had a few beers, laugh and all. Gotten married not too long after.

The night on that special day, he said he wouldn’t forget it. Even showing you a photo of you two in a wedding picture. He had a clean shave at the time, he said you wanted him to grow it out but you don’t remember anything.

You were hoping to remember him.

Steve Rogers. The day he met you in the hospital, he introduced himself again and he sounded heartbroken almost. Almost a few days of being in the hospital and getting to know Steve more, he took you home.

They gave you a cane and a wheelchair. He helped you in and out of the car. The house was big. Steve said there was a lake that was down the trail a bit, said that you two would go down there and watch the sun hit the waters.

He took you there once. Enjoying the sun setting in the distance, giving the water a nice gleam of peace. It calmed you. You tried walking around with a cane. Steve told you not to work on that ankle a lot around the house. Make it worse as it is.

You were mostly in the wheelchair.

You were smelling the bacon and eggs as you stared outside, looking out to the rose bushes that seem to be blowing with the wind. Sometimes you’d see Steve go out and cut them. Putting them in the flower vase at the table in front of you.

“Did you hear me, sweetheart?” His voice beams. You inhaled softly and turned your head to look over your shoulder. You hum, “What?” Steve puts the breakfast onto a plate and takes it over to you. “You zoned out, everything okay?” He asked.

You look at him and give him a grin, “Yeah. Just thinking.” Steve wore a dark sweatshirt that was too tight on him. You could see the muscle bulge out of his shirt on the urge to rip through. He quirks a grin, “What were you thinking about?” He asked.

He came behind you as you shook your head, “Just trying to think about what we did before this happened.” Steve’s hands come to your shoulders and he gently massaged them.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna head out, though. Stop by the office to say hi to a couple of friends and I’ll grab some groceries for tonight’s dinner. You look up and smiled at him. “Okay. I was thinking about walking around the house, anyway. To see if anything could trigger my memory.”

His hands tighten on your shoulders before he released them, “Don’t overdo it, sweetheart.” He takes his leather jacket and slips it on. “I’ll be back.” He grabs his keys and placed a kiss on your head.

You didn’t remember him, but it was nice that he still loved you no matter what. But you weren’t sure why you married him. You couldn’t remember. You weren’t sure if you loved him anymore. But he was a nice man.

You hear him leave and you continued to finish your breakfast. After you did, you took your cane and stood up. Wincing slightly at your ankle that you fractured in your crash.

You had been in an accident and they said you’d have to walk for a few minutes, heal your ankle every once in a while. You walked around the house. Walking into a room that happened to be Steve’s office, you saw his computer on the desk. You sat down and opened his computer.

A password was needed.

You bit the inside of your cheek and thought about adding the date of your wedding that Steve had told you. It didn’t work. You added your favorite flower into the password. Roses. Nothing. You leaned back in your chair and thought it through.

Why were you going into his space? He wouldn’t like you doing into his things. You sighed and stood up again, catching the wifi router by his desk. Steve said you don’t have signal. You reached for it and saw that the back of it was ripped. Shredded.

You placed the router box back and felt suspicious about that. You left his office and limped into the living room to looked around and find something familiar to trigger something.

You turn and saw Steve slam a guy into the wall, aggressively slamming his head against the wall with full force. You gasped and blinked, almost stumbling so you catch yourself on the table, toppling a few things over.

You look back and Steve was not slamming no one into the wall. They were gone. What the hell was that? You puffed out a sigh and looked towards the table you caught yourself with and lifted the fallen frame up.

The wedding picture of you and Steve. You grin softly at the picture, seeing how happy you two were. You wished you remembered the day. But your smile faltered at the sudden picture.

Steve’s face was almost a different tone than the neck part of him. As if he plastered his own face on someone else’s. Even his shoulders were huge but the picture, he didn’t have shoulder mass.

You fixed the frame on the desk and looked over to the next photo. You and Chris at a friend’s party, he had his arm around you and your smiles were big. That one seemed normal. Maybe it’s just your eyes seeing things. You eventually relaxed and did match the card game to regain your memory.

Steve came back home an hour later, getting dinner ready for you and him. He thought having a special night, he could try and start all over. Have you get to know him more.

But your mind was on the photo. The wedding one. The unknown flash of him shoving another man’s head into the wall. It had you staring at the table, thinking. Steve peered up and furrowed his brows. “What’s going on?” He asked.

The room you two sat in, it was dimly lit. The candle at the center of the table was lit and you had a glass of wine by your plate. You look up to him as he took a bite from his food, really wondering what was up.

Could you tell him?

“The photo...” You said. Steve looks up to you in confusion, “What photo?” He continued to eat. You watched him eat, seeing his movements closely. “The wedding photo. It looked strange to me.”

Steve stops and looks up to you, his jawing tensing as he chewed. “What?” He asks. You inhaled softly and blinked up at him, “I saw you... and another man... you were bashing his head in.”

You noticed his grip on the fork got tight and he managed to laugh softly, “Sweetheart, I think your mind is making things up. But it’s okay, I can give you your pills when we go to bed.”

“No.”

Steve looks up to you, “No?” Your eyes seem to stare at his, your hands twitching out of fear. “You messed with the router... That’s why my nurse isn’t calling.”

Steve shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart-”

“Don’t call me that. Who are you?” Steve was frozen now. But he chuckled, “You know who I am. I’m your husband.”

You shook your head at him. Steve stood up, his face was dark with anger. Or what you thought. You stood up as well, shaking. Steve comes around towards you, your eyes dart to the wine and you reached for it at the right time. Steve went to reach for you but you slammed the glass on his head.

The man falls on the ground and you gasped. Limping on your foot, you take your cane. Reaching for his phone in his back pocket, you ran out the door. You whimpered as you ran through the front yard, walking into the dirt that he said was gonna be a farm soon.

You look back to make sure he wasn’t following till you fell. With a yelp, you hit the ground and landed in the dirt. A shovel was beside you and you turned to see a hand sticking out of the ground. You gasped till something hits you on the side of the head.

Your eyes fluttered open to the light. You winced and Steve’s face came into your peripheral. He looked down at you, “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” You don’t remember what happened. Your eyes close again and he walked up the stairs to take you to your bedroom.

Placing you down on the bed, you fully brought your vision back. He reached up to your head, “Oh, you’re bleeding. Here,” He walks into the bathroom and grabs a wet rag to wipe the blood off your forehead.

“What... What happened?” You mumbled, Steve hisses at the sight of your head. “You were running on that ankle. Hit your head when you fell. You can’t go running out like that.”

He finished off cleaning your head and he sighs. “Here, you need to take your pills.” You shook your head, “No. I don’t need them.” He pulled one out, “Don’t start. You need to take it, it can help you.” You tried to push him away but he managed to get it in your mouth and handed you the glass.

He forces you to drink it and he pulls the glass away. “There. Now get some sleep.” He helped you slip under the covers and he stood up. He pulled his shirt over his head and revealed his bare torso.

You watch him as he undoing his belt and tugged down his jeans to join you in bed. He slipped in next to you and lightly reached for your arm. Once his fingers touched your arm, you jolted causing him to sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You woke up the next morning, feeling sore as always. Walking around has your ankle aching in pain as you sat up. Steve was already gone so you stood up, taking your cane in hand and headed out into the hall.

You met the stairs. You stopped. With one bad foot, it could be one bad fall. You took the risk. You stepped down and hissed, bumping your ankle on one of the steps. You grabbed the railing to hold yourself up along with your cane.

Almost there. You felt too proud of yourself and that all goes downhill when you take misstep and you fall forward. “Woah!” Steve comes around the corner and catches you in his arms. You grab his bicep and chuckled breathlessly.

“You’re up. And walking?” He says, you stable yourself on the ground floor and looked up to him, “Thank you.”

“You got to be careful with that ankle.” You furrow your brows when you see him in his leather jacket. “You’re heading out?” You asked, Steve looks down and nods. “I just need to pick up something. I’ll be back. Don’t walk around for too much.”

He kisses you once again just like yesterday, making you feel like it was a repeating day. Once the door close you looked around the home. You remembered running and you fell. You remembered everything coming back. You head for the garage.

Limping your way in, you grimaced at the smell that was in the garage. Heading over to the black car, you walked into the front seat and sat down. Looking for the keys, you came across a phone.

You stared at it and took it in hand, opening the screen you see yourself and another man. Not Steve. The man was hugging you, placing a kiss on your head.

You gasped and covered your mouth. You hear the front door open and close. “Sweetheart, I forgot something!” You hear him call. You opened the trunk thinking something can be used to defend yourself. You popped it open, making a loud beeping sound in the garage. You limped over to the back and screamed.

A man was laying in the trunk, completely loss of color. His eyes were opened, staring at you. You fell on the ground. Steve comes in and sees you on the ground. “Sweetheart, what are you doing-?” He stops when he sees the trunk open.

His eyes turned dark. Just like at the table. “I thought I told you not to go through things.”

“Who are you!” You screamed, kicking away, “Just let me go! Please!” He comes towards you and you tried to scoot back. “Please, don’t hurt me.” Steve takes both your ankles causing you to yell in pain and he grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder.

“I thought we agreed you’d stay in the wheelchair. I trusted you,” He says. You sobbed as he carried you out of the garage. “Please, just let me go! I won’t tell anyone about this!” You plead.

He chuckles darkly, “I don’t think you have that choice, sweetheart. Not anymore.” You sob as he practically tosses you on the bed. You tried to scoot away from him, bringing your back to the bedpost. He takes your injured ankle with a grip causing you to shout in pain again.

“Please! I won’t go through anything!” He pulls out a rope and puts your ankle on the metal post. He began to tie your ankle to it. “You’re mine. I love you. You know that?” He says.

You sobbed as he ties it and walks over to pull a strand behind your ear, you flinched under his touch. Steve leans in and places a kiss on your lips. You tugged on your ankle and bit at his lip causing him to pull away with a yell.

He brings his hand to his lip, his bottom lip bled. His hand hovers over your ankle that was bound to the post, you knew what was gonna happen. “Please... don’t... I’m sorry-” You shout in pain as he grabs your ankle and tightens his grip.

You scream out and he lets go, fuming with anger, “If you continue with problems, I will decide what happens. When I come back and I see you on this bed still. Maybe I’ll consider.” He looks at you one last time before heading out the door.

You then hear the door lock on the other side.

Whimpering, you tugged your foot. Yelling in pain, you try to reach for the rope tied to the post. The knots were tight enough to not let your finger pull at them. All you could do was tug your foot.

You hear his car leave and you continued to tug your foot. The roughness of the rope dug and scraped against your skin like it was on fire. Your ankle was red enough to the harsh crash. You needed to leave this house.

You struggled more, shouting every second. You could possibly take the trail and find service somewhere and use that phone you found. You slipped it into your pocket. Steve luckily didn’t search your pockets. You felt your ankle slowly crack a few bones causing you to grip the sheets and shout. Your foot them slips out and you quickly limped over to the door.

You pulled the door and it doesn’t open. “Shit...” You look around the room and found the small bowl on the dresser. You found a hair pin and limped back over to the door.

It took you about 10 minutes to unlock it. Once it clicked, you ripped the door open and limped out, he left your cane in the garage. You didn’t need it. Right now, you needed to get out.

You rushed out of the house and stumbled into the rose bush. You pulled away and saw blood on your hand. Looking toward the rose, you saw blood. Your hand was bleeding.

You hear beeping and looked up to the front door. Above it was a camera. Steve is gonna come back. You pulled your phone out and began to lift it, rushing out to the trail.

Pushing through the brush, you pant and whimper. You tripped over a rock and hit the ground with a loud ‘oof’. You then hear a car door close. You lifted yourself up and yelped in pain when you stood on your foot.

“Y/N,” Steve’s voice sounded like a warning, “I’m not in the mood for your games.” His feet were heavy against the dirt as he rushed through the same trail he saw you go on the trail.

You limped further down the trail, “Y/N!” He roars. You sobbed quietly and slid down the hill. You hid in the leaves as his broad shoulders and blonde dark locks came into your view as he stormed further down the trail.

You stood up once he passed and turned the other trail. Stepping on a twig. “Where are you, sweetheart?” He calls. You stumble on your feet and rushed down the trail. Raising the phone up to the sky, you couldn’t run down the road for miles. You could probably call the police.

“Goddammit, Y/N!” He shouts. You come across the dock towards the lake and you were completely stuck now. You rushed over to the brush and hid. Steve’s boots hit the dock, walking down the dock. You turned to see a log by your side.

Taking it in hand, you slowly emerged from the brush and came up behind him. Going for the swing, Steve turns and catches it at mid-swing. His face darkens, with a tug, it jerked you and you fell into the lake.

You feel yourself sink further as it got colder the more you sunk. You tried to swing up but you couldn’t. You see his silhouette at the surface staring down. You watched his figure disappear off the dock, walking away. You saw the bubbles float around you and up.

You then closed your eyes and choked on the water.

You gasped for air and rose from the tub, slightly choking and you looked around. “Y/N?” Someone called, you jumped when they entered the bathroom and looked at you.

“You okay?” They asked. You blew out a exhale and nodded, “Yeah... sorry.” He shook his head, “It’s okay. Maybe consider taking a shower instead?” He slightly jokes, you tried to smile.

He turns away till you slightly rose, “Steve?” He peaks his head around, “Yeah?” He asks. You swallowed thickly and grinned softly. “Could you maybe pour me wine when I get out?” Steve looks down at the ground and softly nodded.

“Of course. I’ll cook dinner, too.” You nodded and he gave you a grin. “Okay. Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too...”

~~~

Oh man... Dark fics are not good for me. Would I even consider this a Dark fic?

Also no part 2 cause nah. I suck with Dark Fics

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Want a tag? Just ask!

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fanfic-she-wrote · 3 years

Text

Renault's birthday surprise

Requested by anon. Sorry it took me so long. I hope you like it!

No warnings just fluff

The sun slowly rose into the sky painting lovely shades of blue and yellow across the landscape letting the residents of Casablanca know that it was time to wake up. To anybody else this was just a typical day, but not to you. Today happened to be Captain Renault's birthday and you had a surprise for him.

It was about 9 O'Clock when you finally awoke thanks in part to your cat meowing at you to feed him. With a yawn, you forced yourself out of bed and tottered into the kitchen, your eyes barely open. After feeding your cat, you sat at the table resting your head in your hands staring at nothing trying to wake up as you waited for your coffee to brew. Once you felt awake enough you went back into the bedroom to get ready for the day.

As you slipped on your clothes and fixed your hair you found yourself daydreaming about what would happen later. Would Louis be surprised? You wondered. He should be after all the trouble you went through arranging everything.

Before leaving you pulled out a brand new dress out of the closet and held it out admiring it for a moment loving how the red sequins glimmered in the sunlight. This was probably the most expensive and gorgeous dress you ever owned, but he was well worth it. Then draping it carefully over your arm, you headed towards the door, giving your cat a quick pat on the head, and left.

As you made your way towards Rick's where you would help set things up, you bumped into Renault. Quickly you hid the dress behind your back not wanting him to see it. "Good morning, my darling!" He exclaimed, leaning in for a kiss and placing one on your lips.

"Good morning!" You replied trying not sound suspicious.

"My, don't you look beautiful today." He complimented you as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Aww, thank you." You blushed, looking down at your feet. Even though you had been dating for nearly a year now, he could still make you blush, which didn't take much. Even just his voice made your heart flutter.

"Any plans for today?" He asked curiously, reaching out to hold your hand.

"Just running some errands." You lied, holding onto your dress with one hand and Louis's hand in the other, trying to appear innocent. "Nothing particularly interesting."

He raised his eyebrow, watching you carefully. He wasn't the prefect of police for nothing. He could spot a lie a mile away, but he chose not to say anything.

"We'll, I'll let you get to it then. I'll see you tonight." Renault said, kissing your hand. "Rick's as usual?"

You smiled and gave him a nod. "Of course!"

As you watched him disappear down the street you let out a sigh of relief. At least he didn't suspect anything...yet.

When you finally arrived at Rick's you found him quietly taking inventory at the bar. "Hi, Rick!" You chimed walking over to him. "Hello!"

"Getting ready for tonight?" You asked, leaning over the counter.

"Yep, it's all set. We got enough booze and cake, all's we need to do is put up the decorations." He told you.

"Thanks again! I couldn't have done this without you."

Waving it off he answered nonchalantly, "Think nothing of it. I think a party is just what this joint needs right now." Rick admitted. You nodded, understanding what he meant. The war had taken a toll on everything including Rick's.

"Is that the dress you're wearing tonight?" He asked, noticing the dress you were holding.

"Yep! You think he'll like it?" You asked, lifting it up to show him.

"If he doesn't he ought to get his head examined." He joked. "Lucky bastard."

"Now, now." You said, shushing him. "Where's the decorations?" You asked, placing the dress down on a nearby chair.

"Over there." Rick answered, pointing to one of the tables across the room. "Thanks."

As you put up the decorations you couldn't help but be a little worried. What if he hated surprise parties and broke up with you? You thought. No...that was silly. He wouldn't break up with you over that. Would he? Suddenly, you started to feel sick to your stomach as it came closer to having the party. Rick noticed this and came over to you.

"You okay?" He asked, helping you put up some streamers.

You sighed. "What if he hates the party? What...what if he breaks up me?" You confessed.

He scoffed. "Nah, it'll be fine. Trust me. He'll like it." He assured you.

"I just don't want to lose him that's all. I mean, you know how he was. Never the type to stay tied down..." You pointed out trailing off.

"You really do love him don't you?" He asked, slightly taken aback by how serious you sounded. You nodded your head, yes, in reply.

He paused for a moment before turning to you and saying, "I was in love. Once. If you can believe it." He chuckled. You could believe it. You thought, stopping to listen. "So I think I know a thing or two about what it looks like. And kid, every night you come in here I see the way he looks at you. He does love you, there's no question about it."

You gave him a warm smile and took a deep breath, feeling better. "Thanks, Rick."

"Anytime."

"You know, I agree with Louis. You are a sentimentalist." You kidded.

He leaned towards you and whispered, "Just don't tell anyone." Giving you a wink, he quietly disappeared into his office letting you finish putting together the final touches.

A little while later, you were finally finished. As you got yourself ready, putting on the dress and fixing your hair, and make up you could hear voices emanating from the cafe as guests started showing up. When you finally emerged from the bathroom, you saw that the cafe was full to the brim with people. You stood there, surprised for a moment. Rick must have sent out invites to everyone in Casablanca, you thought. You actually kind of felt overwhelmed.

While you waited for Rick to return with Louis, you got everybody ready. Sasha and Carl stood near the light switches ready to turn them off at a moments notice while you sat by the window keeping a look out. The suspense waiting for them was killing you. Why were they taking so long? You wondered, pacing back and forth.

Suddenly, between the lamplights you saw two figures heading towards the cafe. As they got closer you realized that it was Rick and Renault.

"They're here!" You shouted. Immediately the lights flickered off, engulfing you all in darkness. Quietly you waited, holding your breath and then you heard the click of the key turning. Slowly the door opened and in they stepped.

"Rick, really? What's all this-" Louis began, but was interupted when the lights flipped back on and everybody shouted surprise all at once.

"Oh my god!" Your heard him exclaim.

"Happy birthday!" They all chimed, throwing confetti at him.

"Rick did you do this?" Louis asked, turning to Rick, brushing the confetti off his jacket.

"Only a little. This was all Y/N's idea." He answered pointing to you as you walked over.

"You did this?" He asked, turning to you. You gulped. He hated it. He must. You thought, biting your lip.

"Yes, I wanted to surprise you." You replied.

"And you certainly did! Thank you!!" He exclaimed with a smile, pulling you in for a kiss. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders after planning this for weeks.

"And I must say you look ravishing tonight, my dear." He complimented you in a husky voice, raising his brow as he placed a hand around your waist, tugging you closer.

"See, told ya he'd like it." Rick said.

You went to say something, when suddenly you were interupted by Yvonne, who grabbed him by the arm yelling, "Cut the cake!"

In the center of the room, there was a large chocolate cake with happy birthday written in blue letters on top with some candles sticking out of it.

"This looks delicious!" Louis said, looking down at the cake.

"Make a wish!" One of the guests shouted as Sam began to play his jazzy rendition of happy birthday on the piano.

"Now let me see..." He pondered, looking in your direction, shooting you a smile before blowing out the candles in one go.

After eating some cake and dancing, you found yourself desperately in need of some air. While you were grateful that the party was going well and that Louis was enjoying himself, you were starting to get a little tired.

Sneaking out a side door, you sat alone on the patio quietly enjoying your drink when suddenly, there was a tap on your shoulder. When you turned around you came face to face with Renault. "Oh hello! What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be inside enjoying your party?" You asked, taking a sip of your martini.

"I was, but I wanted to spend some alone time with you. I can't believe you did all this for me." He answered.

"You deserve it and I lo..." You stuttered. You almost said you loved him. Why did it feel so sacred to say such a thing? You couldn't believe how three little words held so much power. But it was true, you did love him. So why not tell him so? Was it because you were afraid?

Suddenly, you felt his hand gently caress your cheek, drawing you back to reality. "What's the matter?" He asked, noticing how distant you had become.

"Louis, I think I love you." You finally admitted, taking a deep breath. He smiled warmly down at you. His eyes were soft, twinkling in the moonlight.

"I have a confession to make. I think I love you too." He told you. Your heart felt like it would explode out of your chest at hearing him utter those words.

Unable to contain yourself, you crashed your lips against his in a passionate kiss. When you finally pulled away, your face was hot and you were utterly breathless. He looked down at you, surprised. "If you kiss like that every time I say I love you, I'll have to say it more often." He joked, blushing himself. Which didn't happen too often.

From over his shoulder you saw Rick standing in the door. He winked at you and raised his glass looking slightly smug. He was right, as usual. You felt almost silly now.

"Provided you don't get tired of it." Louis added.

Placing your glass down on the table, you wrapped your arms around his neck and said, "Get tired of you saying I love you? Never." For the first time since arriving in Casablanca, things felt right.

"Even though you look stunning in that dress, I have to admit I can't wait to take it off." Renault whispered in your ear making you giggle. Same old Louis. You thought. Somethings never changed.

"By the way, what did you wish for?"

"Well I guess there's no harm in telling you now that my wish came true. I wished for some time alone with you tonight." He answered.

"Is that all?" You asked, tilting your head to the side curiously.

"And for this." He leaned down and kissed you again. Snaking his arms around your waist he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. This was certainly a birthday to remember. Louis thought, running his fingers through your hair.

"Get a room, you guys!" You heard Rick shout jokingly. Louis looked down at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes that you loved so much.

"What do you say?" He asked, out of breath.

"Let's get outta here. My birthday present for you isn't done yet." You answered with a wink, tugging him away, leaving the party behind. Definitely a birthday to remember. You agreed.

#really sorry i didnt post this sooner #captain renault x reader #captain renault #casablanca #x reader #reader insert

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: The Perfect Match (Epilogue)

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: What happens after you tell Ben you love him?

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving, implied male receiving), fingering, nipple play, it’s mostly just fluffy bullshit lmao

Words: 7129

A/N: Epilogue time! Apologies for taking so long to get this written, it’s been a rough few weeks. But we’re finally here!

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless

Being in Barcelona with Ben was like having a fresh start. One without intrusive photographers or the pressure of being walking advertisements for a movie. You almost had to physically push Ben out of the hotel on the first morning you were there. He was reluctant to leave you but, being lead actor, couldn’t exactly skip work. At any rate, you wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t so bad spending the day holed up in his suite. You went back to bed after he’d left and then, once properly rested, put music on as you caught up on emails and the like. In the afternoon you popped downstairs to explore the square the suite looked out on, visiting a quaint little bookstore, a shop full of touristy knickknacks, and a cute café that sold maybe the strongest coffee you’d ever had. Having so much time to yourself also gave you a chance to call Felicity and have a long conversation with her, filling her in on exactly what had happened after you got on the plane. She was thrilled to hear it had gone well and took a large part of the credit for herself.

“Afterall, I was the one who told you to get off your arse. If I hadn’t you’d still be crying in bed,” You laughed and conceded she had a point, “but you’re not the only one who gets credit,” “Fine, but it’s like 90% down to me.”

But, even with so much to occupy you, by the end of the day you were eager for Ben to get back, bored of being on your own, ready to have the conversation you’d both been too tired to fully have the previous night. When he di[d finally walk through the door it was obvious he was just as keen to see you. You heard the thump of his backpack hitting the floor just inside the door and then him calling your name. He found you on the couch and rushed up behind you, leaning in for a kiss when you tilted your head back to greet him. “I love being able to do that,” he said softly as he sat down, making you smile. He asked how your day had been as you shuffled closer, letting him drape an arm around you and pull you against his chest. And for a while that was all you talked about, your day and his, everything you’d got up to. His had been a little busier, working with the stunt coordinator and fight choreographer in the morning so they could film the scene in the afternoon. Completely different from the prep you’d done for The Perfect Match, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it from the way he spoke about it. Even if he did end up with a few bruises as proof of his hard work. Before long though you had to address the question hanging over your heads, had to have the talk. It wasn’t an easy conversation. It took some time and meant being open about the previous few months – the insecurities and fears that had kept you from recognising and acting on your feelings, the impact being in the public eye had on you, the pros and cons of dating another actor and, perhaps most importantly, potential challenges you would face because of your previous history. You both readily admitted there’d been some rough moments when you’d handled things poorly and the question had to be asked of if you’d be able to move on from those patches and any wounds they’d caused. Any lingering reservations you had about Ben and his willingness to make it work were quickly put to rest. He was the first to offer up his vulnerabilities, both personal and professional, and discuss the space where they intersected with you. It was all you needed to be fully assured he was in it for the long haul. Of course, you reciprocated his openness with confessions of your own, harder to get out than you’d imagined, but he was patient and leant you a reassuring hand squeeze when you needed it. It wasn’t exactly fun but it was a necessary evil. And by the time you were done you both knew exactly where you stood and were in agreement about how to move forward, making it all worthwhile.

Neither of you felt much like going out afterwards though so you ordered room service, making sure to get a bottle of wine with the food, and celebrated quietly. Ben ran down to the nearest store and bought a few candles to make it seem a little more romantic and promised to take you out on a proper date the next night. “So would that be our first date? Or does everything from before count too?” you asked around a mouthful of food, looking at Ben across the candle lit table. “Huh, good question. I think it counts,” “Really?” you laughed, “I was about to say it doesn’t. It was all planned by other people and not really…real,” “Hey, not everything was planned out for us. That date where we painted mugs was all my idea and, might I add, something I’d thought about specifically to impress you. It was on my list of potential dates in case I got the chance to ask you out after we wrapped. Same goes for that brunch place I took you and the ice skating rink. Also those dates were part of what me fall for you so they kind of have to count.” You had to smile at that, “When did you know?” “Uh,” Ben dropped his gaze to where his hand lay on the table, “Our first date.” “Really?” “I’d already liked you for a while and then you went and decorated a mug with lyrics from the song I heard every time I looked at you.” It wasn’t until after he’d finished speaking that he lifted his eyes again, giving a small shrug. “That’s so ridiculously sweet, Ben, I might have to kiss you about it.” “Well I’m a sweet guy Y/N,” he was almost laughing when you made good on your threat, standing up from your side of the table and nearly pouncing on him. He just pulled you further onto his lap, the dinner forgotten as you revelled in the knowledge that making out was allowed now, encouraged even. “You wanna move this to the bedroom?” Ben asked, illuminated by the dancing flames more than the lights you’d left on. “I don’t normally sleep with a guy on the first date,” you said, pretending to weigh up your options as you twirled a strand of Ben’s hair around your finger. “We just agreed it’s not our first date. Closer to our fifty first probably.” “Hmmm, you make some good points, babe,” His face lit up and you nearly fell of his lap as he sat forward, “are we allowed to do pet names again?” You groaned into his shoulder but he just chuckled “You wanna move this to the bedroom, cuddle bunny?” “I hate you,” “No you don’t,” you could tell he was grinning, even with your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Little bit.” “Aww c’mon cuddle bunny, don’t be like that. I’ll make you feel real good.” “I don’t know Ben, you’ve got a lot to live up to.” “I do?” “You don’t remember? First night I stayed over at yours you made some pretty big claims about what you were capable of. Said if anyone asked I should tell them I came like three times,” you put air quotes around his words. “So you’re saying if I prove that I really am that good, you won’t complain about cuddle bunny or any other nickname I come up with?” “I never said that,” “You basically did and the challenge has been accepted.” You broke into giggles as he pushed you from his lap, only to lurch forward and kiss you, smiling himself. He led you into the next room, discarding clothes along the way.

***

You laughed as you sat on the bed, watching as Ben hopped through the doorway on one foot, trying to kick his pants off his other leg as he went. Your shirt and bra had been lost somewhere between the table and the bed, his shirt discarded even earlier. He gave you a slightly sheepish smile as he finally managed to free himself from the jeans and followed you towards the bed. You leaned back, still on the edge of the bed, propping yourself up on your hands to keep your eyes locked on him and he followed, caught your lips again though softer than before, one hand hovering just above your shoulder, fingertips barely grazing you. It was miles from the first time you’d slept with him, when you’d both been full of alcohol induced confidence and a lack of clear thought. You pushed yourself closer to try and let him know he could be firmer, that you’d like it if he was. Instead he pulled back even more. “Is something wrong? Do you not want to do this?” “No, no I absolutely do. Just,” he smiled again, the shy half smile that made him seem even more boyish than usual, “you’re gorgeous and I kinda can’t believe this is happening. Again. Just give me a second to let it sink in.” “Benjamin I swear, if you start crying,” “I’m not going to cry,” he chuckled, “probably.” You waited, watched his eyes roam over every inch of you from your hairline to your waist, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally he kissed you again, already almost breathless, his hand cupping your jaw as if he had to work up to touching you elsewhere. Slowly his touch fell lower, neck, collarbone. When he grazed your breast he pulled his hand back again but you hummed at the contact and he replaced it. You stopped holding yourself up, let yourself lay back against the mattress as his lips moved to your throat, his thumb teasing the nipple it found to a stiff peak. It left your hands free to wrap around him, hold him against you. “Do you mind if I leave some marks?” “Go ahead,” you said, far more concerned about losing the feeling of his mouth on you than what would be left when he was done. You felt him nuzzle his nose against the underside of your jaw, and then a tingle down your spine as he found a spot to leave a large purple bruise, close to where he’d first given you a hickey at your request. You made a low hum and tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to him, and he delighted in filling the space with more marks. Three along the column of your neck, one on your sternum and one on your right breast. “How’s it look?” you asked, as he raised his head from your chest. “Perfect. But that could just be because your boobs are right in my face. Very nice view.” You gave him a light pinch for his cheek but he didn’t react, far more interested in creating another hickey on your chest. “Hope you weren’t planning on filming any topless scenes anytime soon,” he mumbled, moving to repeat the process on your other breast, “makeup’ll have a hell of a time covering all these.”

By the time Ben was ready to continue his trail lower you were aching for more. Your underpants were slick with your need, nipples hard as Ben’s saliva caught the cold air he blew over them. Again you were struck by how different to last time it was. Then it had been fast, only minutes between being pushed up against the door and having his fingers in you. But now? Now Ben was taking his time. You understood why, of course. Back then you’d been trying to reach the end before either of you could think for half a second about it being a bad idea. You’d been drunk and clueless about how much you’d both wanted it to happen. All you’d had to do was palm him over his pants and he was raring to go. Not so much this time. He was certainly worked up, you’d found as much when you’d tried to cop a feel. But he stopped you before you got too far, laced his fingers through yours so you couldn’t stroke him off. He responded to your whine with a line about having a reputation to live up to and then let go of your hand as he slipped off your lap to the floor. He made you wait as he tugged your pants from your legs and then left another mark on your hip. You opened your legs wider for him, earning a small nip against your thigh. “Wish I’d done this for you last time,” he said softly, kissing the spot that was still tingling from the scrape of his teeth. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch, “If you’d done this last time I’d have confessed my love a whole lot faster. Could-coluld’ve saved me the cost of the flight here.” You voice shook as he pressed his tongue to your soaked underwear and you briefly wished you’d packed some actual lingerie and not just your every-day sensible cotton knickers, but Ben clearly didn’t mind. “Cute panties,” he said between sucks through the material, “that wet patch from your pussy or my mouth?” He laughed as he pulled them off you, dropping them unceremoniously to the side as he sat up higher on his knees.

The next thing you knew was Ben’s fingers on either side of your lips, pulling you open. He glanced up at you, grinned when you whined softy, didn’t break eye contact as he dragged his tongue over you. No more build up, no more playful comments as he took his time exploring you. Just his mouth on you, determinedly pushing you to the edge. You let your head fall back with a squeak as he nudged your clit with his nose, following it up by sucking the nub into his mouth, pulling a moan from you. Your breath caught when he slid two fingers along your slit, coating them in your arousal and a whiny expletive was your response to one entering you. Ben pulled back and gave you a wink as he added another finger. You’d have told him off for being so cocky if you hadn’t felt so good. Instead you fell back to the mattress completely. “That feel good baby?” He asked between licks, stretching you out, trying to find the same spot he’d reached last time. “So good Ben,” “I love the way you say my name.” He pressed a third finger into you, shifted the angle slightly, and without thinking you twisted a hand into his hair, let him hear his name again. He hummed though you weren’t sure what caused it, only that it felt incredible, his lips wrapped around your clit. With soft encouragement he made you tip over the edge, squirming under him as you rode it out. He was gentle when he pulled his fingers from you and left a kiss against your thigh, waiting for you to come back to earth before he began gloating. “That’s one. How do you want the next? Same thing?” It took you a moment to figure out what he meant but he filled the time by kissing a path back up to your lips, shorter than the trip down had taken. “Well? What next?” he asked again when it seemed like you weren’t going to reply. “I could blow you,” you said, once again dropping your hand to try and rub him through his underwear. “Save that for another time. I’ve got a promise to make good on and an adorable nickname to give you.” “I was hoping you’d say that. Really want you in my pussy.” Ben laughed and leaned in to kiss you again, evidence from your orgasm still on his lips and chin, before pushing himself away to finish undressing. You watched him closely, taking in the V that was exposed and the light trail of hair leading under his waistband, the way his thumbs hooked into the material, the slightly theatrical wiggle he made to shake his pants off, how the second he was free of the fabric his hand came up to stroke over his length, seeking some brief relief. He turned away to grab a condom and you made yourself comfortable on the bed, moving to lay back against the pillows rather than hanging over the edge. And then Ben was practically diving on top of you, making you giggle as he kissed you again and again and again. Until he stopped to sit back on his legs, tearing open the condom with his teeth. “Can I?” you asked, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Sure,” As Ben nodded you sat forward, took the condom from him and closed your other hand around him. “Shhhhit,” he breathed out,” “C’mon babe, ‘m already h-hard. Just wanna be in you.” You hummed in agreement but took your time rolling the latex down his shaft as you pulled him into another kiss, thoroughly enjoying the noises he made in response. Soft throaty sounds, little whines muffled by your lips. You would have been happy just jerking him off except for the needy throbbing between your legs that made you hyper aware of how empty you were. “Lie back for me,” he said softly as soon as you pulled your hand away. You did as requested, settling back against the pillows once more. Ben nudged your legs open wider and finally sank into you, both of you gasping at the feeling. You moaned softly when he slowly pulled back and thrust forward again, wrapped your legs around him because it was the only way you could think of to get him closer. Carefully he took one of your hands in his, laced his fingers through yours and then repeated it with the other hand, holding them against the mattress as he fucked into you. His forehead dropped to yours as he let a curse slip into the air, “Didn’t a-appreciate your pussy enough last time. So fucking tight.” You couldn’t think how to respond, just squeezed his hands, your breath catching in your throat as he rolled his hips against you. He kept the pace steady as he caught your lips again, less coordinated kisses that didn’t always get you full on the mouth as you moved with each measured thrust. Each one seemed to make it harder for you to breathe, your breaths coming in short pants, often accompanied by small whiny noises as you felt yourself getting close again. “Yeah?” Ben asked against your ear, a response to a particularly drawn out whine, “that good, huh?” If you’d been able to form coherent sentences you would have come up with some sort of witty way to tell him you needed more stimulation to actually get off. Instead all you managed to do was stumble through the words close, please, more as he nibbled on your earlobe. “Show me,” he rasped, releasing one of your hands so you could slip it between your bodies. I wasn’t long before the speed of your fingers on your clit outstripped Ben’s movement, your growing need to finish pushing you to rub faster, press harder. He groaned into your neck as you finally hit the edge and pulsed around him, pulled out before it became too much. You let your legs fall from where you’d hooked them around him though you whined at the loss. “Don’t worry,” he said softly as he took your hand and lifted it from your cunt, “more where that came from.” Ben pulled your hand towards him, leaning in to close the gap and suck your fingers into his mouth. You were sure you could have cum from that alone if he hadn’t already made you cum twice.

It didn’t make it easy to catch your breath or calm down entirely, but Ben was content to wait, thoroughly cleaning your fingers before he released them. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he let you take your hand back. You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him and almost laughed, “Jesus,” He stroked your leg gently, “Still one more to go, if you’re up for it. Not too sensitive?” “A little but I should be okay.” “Good. I really wanna give you that nickname. Annoy everyone else with how fucking adorable we are” “Shouldn’t have reminded me what the stakes are, maybe I am too sensitive,”

“What if I said I just wanted to fuck you until I cum then? More acceptable?” That did make you laugh, “Much more acceptable.” Ben grinned, his tongue darting out from between his teeth, and then readjusted your position. His arm wrapped around your hips, pulling you up into the air, as he leaned on the other and slid back in, deeper than before. “This okay?” “Y-yeah, yes,” As soon as he knew you were okay with the new position he began moving, faster than before. The angle he held you in meant he was hitting your sweet spot consistently which, aside from feeling good, meant your clit got a bit of a break. It felt even better when he dropped his head forward and gently tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You brought one hand up to grab his hair as he switched to soothing the nipple with his tongue. You had a hard time getting out anything other than a few curses and his name as his thrusts became more urgent but Ben had no trouble telling you how good you felt. Well, some trouble. His words came out stuttered and breathless and interrupted by curses of his own or sometimes muffled by your breasts. But that was a turn on in itself. Hearing Ben losing control, coming apart, because of you. It was enough to make you want to cum faster so you could hear him moan through his own release. You remembered what he sounded like last time and were eager to hear it again. So once again you let your fingers find your clit, shivering at the slight discomfort as you tried to match Ben’s rhythm. “God I’m gonna,” you managed to choke out, fingers tightening in Ben’s hair. “P-please Y/N, cum. I ne-ed you to cum.” Your voice caught in your throat as you tipped over the edge again, Ben doing his best to hold you up as he lasted about a second longer, pretty moans spilling from his lips.

***

Afterwards you could barely find it in you to move. You stumbled on jelly legs towards the bathroom as Ben cleared away the condom and straightened the sheets, ready for you to curl up with him. You had just enough energy to fall into bed and lean your head on his chest. He pulled the covers over your legs and stroked your hair with one hand, his fingers catching in the odd tangle though he was careful not to pull too hard. His other hand smoothed up and down your arm, so gently it took you a few passes to notice. He was quiet for a while, watching you relax against him. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Think that means I win, right cuddle bunny? Or do you prefer honey bunch? Snuggle bug? Sugar bear? I could go on,” “I think cuddle bunny might actually be the lesser of all those evils,” you mumbled. “You sure that’s not cause you got used to it and now you kinda like it?” You gave a non-committal hum in response. Ben’s chest shook as he laughed but he protested when you made to sit up, assuring you he liked having you leaning on him like that, “Told you before, I like being the boyfriend and what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let you use me as a pillow?” You couldn’t help but smile when you heard Ben refer to himself that way, happily settling back against him. He was right, the title suited him. You couldn’t wait to introduce him as such to Felicity and your other friends.

You stayed in Barcelona with Ben for a few weeks. Once or twice you snuck a peek at a gossip blog or a twitter hashtag, but most people’s attention seemed to be diverted from you onto other unlucky couples. There were a few threads about you not being home and a handful of photos of Ben and other cast mates taken from their Instagram accounts, sometimes accompanied by speculation of if their relationship was purely professional, but nothing much else. You were both thankful for that. It was easier to find your feet as an actual real couple without being hounded about it or seeing speculation about yourselves. You were free to visit restaurants and tourist spots on dates, explore the city together on days Ben wasn’t filming, just be more or less normal. A few times you accompanied Ben to set or out with the rest of the cast, listening in as they teased him for how much happier he was now that you’d arrived. There were a couple of sticky beak questions about the breakup the first time you joined them for dinner, but you laughed it off as nothing more than misinformed rumours and they readily believed you. Aside from being contractually obligated to keep the secret, it was just easier to pretend the previous few months had been real than try to explain it all. Of course, pretending was made all the easier by Felicity and Joe knowing. Joe had been happy when Ben told him the good news. He’d been a little annoyed too and threated Ben with the silent treatment, claiming it’s what he deserved for being so stupid, the sudden click of him hanging up startling you both. Ben’s phone rang again about thirty seconds later as Joe called back to claim responsibility for your reunion. “I totally knew you idiots liked each other and if I hadn’t helped, Y/N never would have got to Spain.” Ben leaned in to where his phone rested on the table, speaker on, “If you knew why didn’t you tell me she was into me?” “Pretty sure I tried! But you were too hung up on being all heartbroken to listen to me.” “Umm incorrect,” “Should have heard yourself man, boo hoo Y/N doesn’t love me like I love her, wah wah wah. Didn’t want to hear anything else.” Ben flashed you a disapproving look when you let out a snort of laughter and then turned back to the phone, “You’re such a dickhead,” “Call me cupid, Benny boy, I’m the reason you’re not crying in the shower anymore.” “You’re fucking full of it, cupid,” “Go on Y/N, tell him I’m right,” “Well,” you said, trying not to laugh again, “Joe did tell me where to find you,” “Exactly!” came the shout from the phone, “Y/N, I’ll give you some of the credit for actually flying to Spain, but It’s like 85% down to me.” “You should meet my friend Felicity. You’d get along.”

On quieter days when everyone was doing their own thing and neither of you felt much like leaving the suite, you’d sit around and help Ben learn his lines or stretch over his lap and work on a crossword puzzle together. Although, that was if you made it out of bed. Ben ran through his condoms in the first week you were there, both of you eager to make up for the missed opportunities and all the time you’d spent pining for each other. More than once he came back to the hotel to find you wearing nothing but one of his shirts, which invariably ended with him between your legs in one way or another. Or, when he was flushed and sweaty from whatever action scene he’d been filming that day, he’d slyly announce he needed a shower and suggest you join him. But eventually the real world called, quite literally, in the form of Mary letting you know you’d got the part in the witch movie. It deserved a celebratory drink out at a bar the cast had found, where you and Ben riled each other up so much you had no choice but to relieve the tension the minute your door was shut behind you. And then again first thing the next morning. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stay more than a few days after that. You had to fly back home and begin prepping for your new role. Thankfully it was being filmed around London, saving you from having to head out to the US straight after getting home from Spain. But it did mean leaving Ben, an occurrence neither of you were thrilled about, feeling like you’d not had as much time together as you would have liked. You decided to do something special for your last night so Ben booked a table at a nearby restaurant. He met you there straight from set, wearing nice pants and a dressy shirt rather than the trackpants and ratty tee you'd seen him in that morning, where you surprised him with a bouquet of flowers similar to those he’d given you on your make-up date so long before. “I love them,” Ben laughed, kissing your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “I think the colours make my eyes pop,” You playfully shoved him away towards the restaurant but he grabbed your hand and pulled you against him. He was about to kiss you when a familiar clicking sound distracted him. Both you and Ben looked around, surprised and confused, and saw a young woman walking down the street, fingers quickly taping against her phone. Ben ushered you inside the restaurant and, as soon as you took your seats, pulled out his phone. “Bad news. She tweeted it.” “Guess that means the honeymoon’s over,” you sighed. “And we were so close too. Fucking busted with about 10 hours to go.” “Oh well. S’pose everyone was gonna find out anyway. If it wasn’t now it would have been in a few weeks when you get back home.” “Not like we aren’t used to it. So how about,” he poured you both a glass of water from the bottle on the table, “a toast. To being so fucking interesting the whole world wants to know if we’re fucking.” You laughed as you clinked your glass against his a took a sip.

The pre-production part of your new movie kept you busy which had its pros and cons. On one hand it was tiring and a lot of new information to take in. On the other it kept you distracted from the distance between you and Ben and the barrage of questions you were receiving about him daily. You met the women who were playing your sisters and spent a lot of time rehearsing with them, particularly focused on learning how to pronounce the spells you’d be casting and the names of the potions you’d be mixing. Ben chuckled when you told him you’d spent an hour being coached on how to pronounce a single word, a process which included a basic Latin lesson and lots of repetition. “Well at least I didn’t end up with a black eye from it,” you said, pointing at him through the video chat screen. Over the weeks you’d been apart you’d relied heavily on phone conversations and face time calls to keep in contact. There’d been a visit or two when you had the chance but both of you were busy and keen not to be splashed through every gossip rag around so they were few and far between. The calls were easier, more private, and quickly became part of your wind down routine – come home, snuggle up on the couch, and talk to Ben for a few hours. “Hardly having fun if you can’t accidentally get knocked out by a poorly thrown weapon,” “I beg to differ, but you do you Benny,” you laughed, reaching for your coffee. The mug Ben had painted for you. He smiled when he saw it. “Aside from learning Latin and not being beaten up on a daily basis, how’s the movie going?” Ben asked as he reached behind him to adjust the pillow he was leaning against. “God it's been so good so far. The girls are so lovely and fun to be around. Plus, y’know, as someone who spent a lot of her childhood making mud potions in the backyard and playing Harry Potter, getting to run around throwing spells and stuff is kind of a dream come true.” He laughed again, “you’re such a nerd, I love you.” “Shut up. How’s it going in Spain?” “Well I have a black eye and I miss you so... Nah, it’s all going really well. Copped a bit of shit after you left,” Ben rolled his eyes, “apparently I was depressed. But this shoot has been so good. Gonna be kinda sad to be done.” “How much longer have you got?” “Couple of weeks, I think.” “You should come over to mine when you land, I’ll cook you dinner,” “Yeah? I’d like that.” “Course you will, nice home cooked meal, a blowjob, what’s not to like.” “I’ll let you know when my flight is so you can prepare – buy ingredients, do jaw stretches. What’re you laughing for? I’m serious, we both know how big I am.” He laughed, breaking the façade of seriousness as his tongue stuck out between his teeth. “Are you ready for it?” “Beyond ready, I miss sex.” “Not what I meant. There were a few paps waiting for me at the airport last time I was coming back from visiting you. Mostly yelling questions about if we’re really back together.” “How bad is it?” “Not as much attention as we were getting while we were doing press for the movie but it’s pretty annoying.” “They’ll calm down. After they see us a few times and they find someone else to lose their shit over.” “Yeah, probably. But you’re still good with this happening, even with the extra attention?” “Y/N, babe, we talked about this already. We always knew it was likely to happen and nothing’s changed since then. I still want to be with you.” “Just checking,” “I know. Now, I don’t have to be on set for another half hour so why don’t you tell me more about this blowjob I can expect.”

Ben was right, though it took longer to die down than you’d have liked. Felicity alerted you to a number of articles both in print and online after Ben got home. It almost felt like the days of promoting The Perfect Match – photos of you walking hand in hand and sitting at cafes and sneaking kisses on street corners being tweeted and commented on, articles about your latest date and speculation on if another breakup with imminent. The difference was this time you didn’t recognise the people taking the pictures. But, after a month or so, when it became clear you weren’t going to start arguing in fancy French restaurants again the magazines and websites started posting less and less. “It’s like Mary said,” Ben shrugged when you brought it up, “people like conflict and we’re not giving them any.” And that was true. Without the pressure of keeping your feelings hidden from each other or yourselves you were less prone to sulky silences and terse words. Plus no one was telling you to break up for attention. In fact, the months after Ben came back from Spain were better than you’d let yourself believe they would be. You were still working on the witch movie, working title: Toil and Troubles, spending most days and some nights bent over cauldrons of smoking liquid nitrogen and pink slime, or running through forests hoping your pronunciation was correct. Ben visited, sometimes to take you out to lunch or to drop off items you’d left at his place that you were bound to need. Convenient excuses. But welcome nonetheless. At the very least it was good practice for when you introduced him to your friends and family. Felicity insisted on meeting the man who’d caused her best friend so much heartache within the first week of his arrival, a situation that gave you more anxiety than any of the paparazzi ever would. But your worries were for nothing. Ben was perfectly charming and took Felicity’s one or two snide comments with good grace and a suitable amount of remorse. She pulled you aside later to let you know she approved and could see why you liked him so much. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, not needing her approval but glad to have it anyway. That first meeting made you less nervous about the ones that followed, even when it came to your blood relatives. And then, of course, you had to make good on your promise to his mum. He’d had to smooth things over with his family first, having made such a big deal about breaking up with you before he took off to Spain. They’d been surprised when he told them things weren’t working, having believed you quite happy during your visit, and more surprised when they saw you were back together. But if they thought Ben was making a mistake with rekindling the romance they didn’t show it. Angela and Keith welcomed you back to their home with warm smiles and more food than the four of you could eat. You left, still giggling at some of Ben’s baby photos, with a plate of leftovers in one hand and an invitation to come back soon.

It wasn’t until after Toil and Troubles wrapped that you decided to move in together. Ben suggested it casually one night while you were eating dinner in front of a rerun of Friends, the one where Chandler moves in with Monica. The suggestion was accompanied by a joke about how you’d been dating for nearly a year if you counted all the Perfect Match stuff, but you knew he wasn’t really joking. You’d been thinking about it too. You flipped a coin to see who’d be selling their place and didn’t complain when it was you. Ben’s house was already your second home, might as well make it your only one. Luckily, with your movie having started post-production, neither of you were filming and so were free to jump into the process of packing and decluttering and moving. It wasn’t long before you were carrying a box of your clothes up the stairs of Ben’s house, your house now. He followed with another, dumping it in the middle of his living room and telling Felicity to put hers down with it as he ran out to help one of his mates with a bookshelf. The requisite pizza was bought for lunch and beer provided as thanks for everyone’s help before they left, leaving you and Ben with a living room full of boxes and no inclination to go through them. Instead you weaved your way through the blockades, flopping, exhausted, onto the couch. You stretched out, Ben laughing as he lay on you, his head on your chest. “Just a little break,” he said with a yawn and before you knew it you’d both dozed off, warn out from the days exertions.

You woke to Ben digging through the box closest to your head. “Which one of these has all your kitchenware?” he asked when he saw you watching him. “Should say kitchen on the top in blue sharpie, why?” He stood up and walked to another stack, shifting a box off the top of the pile, muttering the word kitchen to himself over and over. You let him search, taking a moment to stretch out the stiffness from napping on the couch. “Did you see those magazines Felicity left?” he asked as he moved another box out of the way. “No, where are they?” “Kitchen bench. You’ll laugh.” You ducked into the kitchen and opened the first one, a copy of Woman’s Weekly, flicking through the pages until you were met with an image of you and Ben walking down the street together. He was looking at his phone and you were talking, head turned toward him. A red circle drew attention to your hand and underneath it was a slightly blurry close up of the same section. Scanning the paragraphs beside the photos the word engaged jumped out at you making you snort. “Knew you’d find it funny,” Ben said, peeking over your shoulder. “It’s not even a proper ring, just some cheap costume jewellery. And it’s on the wrong finger. Bloody hell they’re desperate.” “Look at the other one,” Ben stuck the kettle on to boil, glancing over to watch you as he opened his cupboard of mugs. You pulled the issue of Heat out and riffled through its pages too. “Oh my god,” Ben laughed, “I know right! Pregnant, really?” “I’m never wearing that dress again. In fact I’m going to go find whichever box it’s in and throw it in the donations bag right now,” Ben caught you around the waist before you could take a step, “Don’t do that cuddle bunny,” he pouted, “I love you in that dress. One of my favourites.” “Because it’s easy to take off?” “Because you look cute in it. Being easy to take off is just a bonus,” he pulled you in close and kissed you as you laughed, “speaking of, with you moving in we’ll have to give you a proper welcome. I’m thinking start up against the front door, work out way through every room,” he pinched your bum suddenly, just to emphasise what he meant. “Cool your jets horndog, gotta move boxes out of the way before we can even get to the front door. And I think I need a coffee before I even think about sorting boxes.” “It’s a good thing I was about to make us coffee then. I found your kitchenware by the way.” You looked for the first time at the counter where Ben had set out the makings of coffee. There, amongst the canister of sugar and bottle of milk sat two mugs. The two mugs you’d decorated for each other, side by side.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #i love writing 2 fucking idiot doofuses #i think they earned this fluff

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