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#inspired by a conversation i overheard between two boys
maximoffwitch · 2 years
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What’s a MILF?
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pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
warnings: none
summary: Wanda gets called a MILF, which should be flattering, but does she know what it means?
word count: 1.6k
a/n: think of this story as a bday gift to both myself and to you guys!! hope you enjoy it :)) also this was inspired by this lovely swan queen fic! 
“Your guys’s mom is so hot,” Wanda heard one of the twins’ friends say, as she approached the living room, a plate of snacks in hand. Stopping in her path, she hid against the wall and waited to see how the conversation would play out.
“Justin, dude, gross,” Tommy grimaced, and Wanda could only imagine the disgusted look on both her boys’ faces, “that’s my mom.”
“Sorry,” Justin chuckled, not sounding apologetic at all.
“If you think Mrs. Maximoff’s hot, you should see their other mom,” their other friend, Daniel, interjected.
“Yeah, but Mrs. Maximoff is a total MILF,” Justin said, earning a collective groan from the twins. Outside in the hall, Wanda frowned, her brows scrunching at the unfamiliar term. What is a MILF?
“Can we please stop talking about my moms?” Billy whined, his brother eagerly nodding along.
“Fine,” Daniel relented with a slight eye roll and an amused grin.
Wanda took that as her cue to enter the room, plastering a wide smile on her face, “Boys, I brought some snacks for you.”
“Thanks, mom,” the twins cheered, earning a kiss atop each of their heads.
“Thanks, Mrs. Maximoff,” Justin and Daniel echoed, smiling innocently as if they weren’t just talking about how “hot” she was.
“Your welcome,” Wanda placed the plate down on the coffee table. “And boys, please remember to clean your rooms and finish your homework by the time your mother gets home.”
“Okay,” Tommy agreed before the group of boys returned to whatever video game they were playing.
With that, Wanda left them to their devices and went back to preparing dinner.
After Justin and Daniel had left, the twins moved to the kitchen counter where they usually did their homework, so they could keep their mom company.
After about twenty minutes, Billy finished his work and leaned up on the counter. “You need any help, mom?”
“No, I’m alright,” Wanda smiled sweetly at her son. “Thank you for asking though. Did you finish all your work?”
Billy nodded, and before his mother could even ask, he told her, “And my room is all clean too.”
“Wonderful, dear,” she leaned across the counter to press a kiss to his forehead, before addressing her other son, “How’s the math coming along, Tommy?”
“I’m almost done,” he answered, his eyes still glued to his paper.
“Well if you need any help, just ask your brother or your mom when she gets home.”
“Not you?” Tommy tilted his head, his expression innocent, but the teasing glint in his eye betrayed him.
“Your mother is much better at math than I am, mister,” Wanda chuckled, as she stirred the stroganoff.
“Speaking of mothers,” she trailed off, contemplating how to ask her sons about what she’d overheard earlier, “what is a MILF?”
Caught off guard by their mom’s question, Tommy dropped his pencil and Billy choked on thin air.
“Where did you hear that?” the young speedster asked.
Wanda felt a slight flush take over her cheeks, as she bit her lip bashfully. “I overheard Justin say it when you guys were hanging out earlier.”
The two boys glanced at each other, as they exchanged a wordless conversation, one that did not go unnoticed by their mother.
“It’s an acronym,” Tommy began to explain, still stealing nervous glances at his brother for backup. Wanda waited patiently, wanting to know what her sons’ friends were calling her.
“Well, what does it stand for?” she looked at her boys expectantly.
“Mother…” Tommy hesitated, frantically looking between Wanda and Billy.
“In late forties,” Billy supplied, sensing his brother was struggling to come up with something.
Wanda was taken aback, as she stood up straight. Did she really look like she was in her forties, let alone her late forties? Before she could question them any further, your voice rang out through the house.
“Honey, I’m home,” you called out, slipping off your shoes and hanging up your coat. “Are the boys home?”
“Mom,” “Ma,” Tommy and Billy both cheered, hopping off of the kitchen stools, desperate to flee the conversation they’d been having with Wanda, and also to see you.
Wanda sighed, still agitated by the fact that her sons’ friends thought she looked a decade older than she was. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but smile when she saw you appear in the doorway, the boys flanking your side.
“Hello, my love,” you greeted, gently grabbing Wanda’s waist, pulling her into your body, and kissing her tenderly.
“Hi,” she beamed, always happy to see her wife. “How was training?”
While Wanda was taking a break from being an Avenger, only being called in on an emergency basis, you had volunteered to train the up and coming agents, as Fury was trying to rebuild SHIELD.  
“It was alright,” you shrugged, moving to grab plates for dinner. “The team’s agreed to help some. Today, Nat tried to show them how to do her signature scissor-leg-thigh-take-down move. Key word: tried.”
Wanda giggled at the thought of her best friend trying to teach mid-level agents a move only meant for trained assassins.
“Did she do it on you?” Wanda asked, knowing all too well what the answer was.
“Yes, maybe,” you mumbled, throwing a light glare at your wife, which earned a chuckle from her and snickers from the twins. Turning to your sons, you raised a challenging eyebrow, “Boys, could you please set the table while your mother and I finish dinner?”
“Yes, ma,” they both grumbled, grabbing the plates and utensils from the counter where’d you set them out.
“That was mean,” Wanda joked, pulling you closer by your belt loops.
“They need to earn their keep around her,” you played along, as you kissed the corner of her mouth. “Now, come on,” you playfully smacked her behind before turning around and grabbing the pot on the stove, “your stroganoff smells delicious.”
Wanda could only shake her head at your antics, the thoughts of being called a mother in her late forties, nearly out of her mind. Nearly.
That night, after dinner and after the boys had gone to bed, you stepped out of the bathroom, using a towel to dry your hair, and frowned at the sight before you.
“What’s wrong?” you set the towel down and approached your wife, who was standing in front of the floor mirror with a displeased look on her face.
“Nothing,” she sighed, as you wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your chin on her shoulder.
“Wands,” you softly kissed her neck, tracing circles on the skin under her night shirt, “we’ve been married for over a decade. I know that look. Talk to me.”
“Do I look old to you?” Wanda turned around to face you, causing your arms to fall to your side.
Your eyes widened and your lips parted. That was not on the list of possible things you expected to come out of Wanda’s mouth.
“What? Is this a trick question?” you squinted, eyeing your wife suspiciously.
“(Y/N),” Wanda whined and stomped her foot almost petulantly. “I’m being serious. Do I look old?”
“No, Wanda, you do not look old,” you said earnestly, as you rubbed her biceps in an attempt to comfort her. “And besides, even if you looked a hundred years old, you’d still be the most beautiful woman in my eyes.”
Wanda rolled her eyes at your cheesiness but still let herself be pulled into your embrace.
“Now, you wanna tell me what brought this on?” you cupped her face and tenderly brushed her cheek with your thumb.
“The boys had some friends over today,” Wanda started, frustration beginning to bubble in her chest, “and Justin called me a MILF.”
You bit your lip, trying to stifle the laugh that was about to escape but to no avail as a wide smile broke out across your face.
“What? What’s so funny?” Wanda furrowed her brows at you, confused by your reaction.
“He’s not wrong, babe” you smirked, reaching out for your wife, who stepped out of reach, looking offended.
“Excuse me?” she glared at you and did her signature head tilt, effectively wiping your smirk right off your face. “You said I didn’t look old.”
“Hold on, hold on,” you shook your head and tried to back track, sensing there was some miscommunication going on, “what do you think MILF stands for?”
“Tommy and Billy told me it means ‘mother in late forties,’” Wanda exasperated, her hands on her hips now. “I am not in my late forties!”
“Wands,” you hesitantly stepped towards your vehement wife, trying to soothe her qualms, “I know you’re not in your late forties and nor do you look it.”
“Then why did you say Justin was right?” Wanda sneered, her anger and confusing blending into frustration.
“Because MILF doesn’t mean ‘mother in late forties,’ my love,” you explained, as you smoothed the wrinkles in her forehead.
“Then what does it mean?” Wanda tilted her head, this time in pure confusion.
“You really wanna know?”
“Yes, (Y/N), I really wanna know,” she huffed impatiently.
“It means Mother I’d Like to Fuck,” you revealed, bracing yourself for Wanda’s reaction.
The witch’s eyes widened, as she gaped at the revelation. “Really?”
“Really,” you nodded, an amused smirk reappearing on your lips, as you wrapped your arms around your wife’s waist, Wanda too stunned to protest.
“I cannot believe a twelve year old boy called me that,” she scoffed, almost offended. “What a little—”
“Hey,” you cut her off, as you nuzzled your face into the crook of her neck. “Don’t worry about him.”
You kissed Wanda’s soft skin, biting and sucking up her neck till you reached behind her ear.
“Let me show you,” you husked, pulling the soft skin between your teeth, earning a moan from your wife, “how much of a MILF you are.”
And to that, Wanda had no objections.
—————
taglist: @alexmxff @likefirenrain @amasimpformilfs @crescent-witch @iliketozoneout @fxckmiup @inluvwithfictionalwomen @chelleztjs18 @mediocre-writerr @milfloverslut @fayhar @kermy48 @nataliasknife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @when-wolves-howl @findingmaximoff
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prolix-yuy · 2 years
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Writers’ Iron Chef #6: The Bridge
[PROMPT] “Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone.”
[ADDITIONAL PROMPT] “I can’t stay long. I just had to see you.”
[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time
Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader (from this previous Writers' Iron Chef)
Rating: T, language, light allusions to sexual acts. 
Summary: An explanation is in order, and a promise.
Notes: Written for Writers’ Iron Chef Prompt 6.
Like I haven’t gotten enough of Whiskey over the last few weeks, I just wanted to come back to these two for a few minutes. Especially since the last time they spoke, Jack confessed that the coldness between them was for the sake of the mission, and how much he'd truly been feeling in that moment. This is the next time they see each other after that scene on the dance floor.
Song inspiration: “I’m With You” by Avril Lavigne.
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The road is slick with rain, drips still splashing from the streetlight you’re keeping close by. The spray of water against your bare legs keeps you alert, arms folded around your middle and jacket collar turned up against the cool air. 
Your communicator had crackled hours after the rush from the dance floor, pistols drawn and shots fired. The flash of the muzzle flare was all you could see of Jack’s grimace before he took off into the night, your heels and dress a hindrance for a chase. Gritting your teeth, both at your situation and at the last words shared between you and Jack, you radioed Ginger.
“Rendezvous at the hotel room. Jack’s got new mission directives. You’ll be coming back to base,” she relayed in your ear. The pause was longer than you meant before answering, “Affirmative.”
“It’s not you, just…” Ginger tried to placate, but you confirmed again and cut off the transmission. Another mission scooped up by the good ol’ boys. You and Ginger could relate most times, but tonight your emotions were too raw.
The trip to the hotel took no time at all, but you didn't want to be alone just yet. Not after you spent so long primping and preparing for this night. So you had a drink in the hotel bar, then another. You thought people might take notice, but it was dark and the clientele had their eyes on more easily attainable conquests. Your smoky gaze and resting “fuck off” face worked well for anonymity.
Reaching your hotel room, eager to peel out of the dress and heels that were pinching your feet, your comm burst to life. Tucking it into your ear, you tried and failed to get the keycard into the lock.
“Any update?” you murmured, which was met with heavy breaths. You stopped, waiting but no words came through. “Whiskey?”
“Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone.” The words were quick, punctuated by gasps before the line went dead. Your mouth twisted up in contemplation. It had just begun raining, and you were bone tired and likely too emotional to speak to the man who turned your world upside-down hours before.
But you weren’t a field agent because you balked at difficult conversations.
So now you’re waiting at the only footbridge in the glittering city. Standing at the center made your skin itch, too exposed. Benches and bus stops were too communal - come alone normally meant to meet at a place where you couldn’t be overheard. So the streetlight it is.
A figure crosses the bridge, and he’s barely in view before you know it’s Jack. Even without the cowboy hat, his swagger is recognizable for a hundred yards. You push off the pole, stepping into the center of the path to intercept him. He’s gotten his hands on a billowing overcoat - procured since you last saw him, the one he wore to the event still at the coat check - which flows around him like a specter, enlarging his presence. He doesn’t need more help in that department.
“Glad to see you safe,” you start to say, but he barely slows, hooking a hand into your elbow and dragging you to the buildings close by. A small alley, well lit but narrow, is where he maneuvers you, finally coming face to face once you've both appraised the hiding spot with scrutiny. 
“Sorry for the cloak and daggers, darlin', I normally wouldn’t out of professional courtesy.” You roll your eyes at him, and it occurs to you how easily you slide back into your old banter. He takes a moment to scrub his hand over his mouth, card his fingers through his thick hair, and empty out a sigh.
“Tonight has not gone anywhere near according to plan,” he bemoans, and the sheepish look he gives you makes you quirk up a half smile.
“Sounds like it worked out well enough. Ginger says you’re on a new mission.” Trying to ignore the tweak of jealousy, you nod and clasp your hands together. The chill of the night begins to pull at your legs and bare hands, which Jack notices. Slower than you’ve seen him approach anything deadly, he reaches out his hands to take yours. He wraps your fingers into his warm palms, soothing his thumbs over the backs.
“Lucky catch. I saw an old friend, someone who knew me when I had another identity. We can use him to get close to the target,” he says, but the steady circles of his thumbs take up all of your attention. “They’re not sure how long I’ll be undercover for, so I need to say this now, darlin', or I’m sure you’ll be back to hating me when I return.”
You part your lips to say the first thing on your mind - I never hated you, Jack - but he rushes through the next part.
“I wanted to tell you what that night meant to me. I had coveted you for months before, wanting to make a move but almost positive you would send me packing with my tail between my legs for even asking. But then the mission brought us to that resort, and those gorgeous floral dresses you always wore, but underneath it all you were still the competent, confident, take-no-shit woman I was proud to call a partner. I could always count on you, and I hope you could count on me.” 
You nodded, dazed, as he rushed on, occasionally checking for onlookers.
“And that night, I wanted to kiss you so badly I thought the need might kill me. Almost went for a dip in the ocean to cool off. Told myself to lay off, to back away and stop acting like a dog at the dinner table. But then you kissed me first…”
You remember. Sweet with pineapple and rum and a carefree smile.
“...and you whispered to me…”
Let’s stop pretending we don’t feel this, Jack.
“And I was a goner. Knew it from the moment I saw you, but knew I could never shake it once I had you on my lips.”
The admission chokes up your words, makes you dizzy with revelation.
“I can’t stay long. I just had to see you. I couldn’t leave without you knowing that the night we spent together is the first of many more I want to have with you. If you’ll have me after all this is done.”
The crash of your mouths together is the answer you give, frantic and laced with the silent chant of yes yes yes as he cups your head, pulling his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply. He parts his lips, a brief play of your tongues together like a promise, followed by a chaster kiss.
“I’ll make it up to you, darlin',” he breathes into your ear before swirling out of the alleyway and away. You gather your wits just long enough to call after him.
“You better.”
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swallowerofdharma · 10 months
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What Guts is for Griffith
a dispassionate analysis written for a better understanding of both characters and of Berserk
Part 3: I have always been the monster
On the night of the waxing moon, traditionally celebrated in Japan on the 13th of the ninth month, and known as Jūsan'ya (十三夜, thirteenth night), two main events of this arc take place. Because we culturally focus so much on verbal statements, on speech and rhetoric especially, lots of attention has been given to one of those two events: the conversation between Griffith and Charlotte, overheard by Guts and Casca, when Griffith talks about dreams and what he thinks a friend is. I already talked a little about one of the inspiration for it (in part 1, where you find the ** symbol). But I would like to analyze here the emotional aspects of the events surrounding this conversation, and especially Guts’s accidental murder of the thirteen years old son of general Julius. Let’s consider this two events, taking place on the same night, on a specific date, and let’s look at them together because they are very closely related to each other.
Guts is on his mission to assassinate Julius and witness a violent interaction between the general and his son Adonis during sword training, a moment that brings him back to memories of Gambino and himself as a child and unleashes a series of unresolved emotions. Guts is telling himself to not be distracted and careless, but it doesn’t work, and he ends up accidentally killing Adonis in a moment of surprise. After fleeing from the guards through the sewers, he falls unconscious and dreams of Gambino and Zodd. In the dream Zodd kills Gambino severing his head, and stabs child Guts in the chest, only to be revealed that Zodd is Guts himself, turned into a monster. One could argue that Guts didn’t have the intention to kill both of the times referenced here, with Gambino and Adonis, but there is definitely a habit to kill ingrained into him, because of the violent environment that has always been around him, a reality where the only option is sleeping with a sword in his hand.
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There are so many things to unpack here that I am a little bit intimidated by the task.
I think one of the things that should be noticed is how Guts often emotionally correlates his relationship with Gambino with the one he has been building with Griffith. Guts’ affective habits formed around those few affectively charged transactions within the lonely and hostile world he grew up in, and he tends to replicate some dynamics and insecurities that he internalized. For example, he always felt that he owed Gambino, that he was indebted to him, that he had to prove himself to obtain some kind of attention, let alone affection: “I was always desperate. Always trying to get you to appreciate me…” In the same way, in the instances when Griffith helped him on the battlefield, he felt that he owed him every time, like he failed a task and he only needs to be useful. But the reality is that Guts never could satisfy Gambino, like Adonis couldn’t give his father joy: “Such a young child. How merciless. In the end, not once did this boy get to make his father smile”. But this reality speaks for Gambino and Julius’s own shortcomings, their emotional repression and unavailability as fathers, not for their children’s failure to satisfy them or gain their love. And maybe only being useful and ready to kill aren’t the things he needs to do for Griffith, to be acknowledged or to gain his respect and affection.
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Guts’s appearance and expression - when he goes looking for Griffith at the tavern and finds that he isn’t there, and when he goes to the palace to reach him - reveal his state of devastation. Guts is still drenched and dirty, bleeding from an arrow wound and with a completely empty and vacant stare. He looks like he has been hollowed out. At his lowest point since he joined the band of the Hawk, he only asks for Griffith, barely registering anything else that Casca said, except for his location. He hasn’t formed any other meaningful relationship with the others and he is looking for the only person that can offer him reassurance. It is at this moment, when he needs Griffith the most that he sees him with princess Charlotte, under the waxing moon outside of the palace. And he would have gone to him anyway, if he wasn’t for Casca stopping him. And in doing so he would have carelessly given himself away, and Griffith too, since the assassination was to be reported soon after. He is upset and unthinking.
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In this state of mind he overhears Griffith and Charlotte conversing.
But let’s take a step back. At the autumn hunt, Griffith was struck by an arrow in the chest, an attempt to eliminate him and stop his fast ascension to military glory. He already suspected the general, but still investigated the origins of the poison on the arrow and had one of the maids surveying Julius’s movements. Why does he need proof of his suspicions, though, if he is just coldly planning to eliminate one of the people standing between him and the throne of Midland as part of his “evil plan”? He only has Guts to present his evidence, he hasn’t talked to anyone else, but he wants Guts to know that he has good reasons to accuse Julius. Does he think he needs to convince Guts to kill him? Is he looking for justifications for himself? I don’t believe that pure self defense and survival instincts or even cynical machinations are the only motivations, because we also have seen his expression of open hatred for Julius, who is guilty of looking down on him for being born a commoner, born to obedience. Griffith’s actions from now on are becoming more vicious, as he is encountering a new type of battleground, half obscured by shadows. When Griffith calls Guts to his room, he explains the situation clearly to him: “This is… an assassination. It’s fundamentally different from crossing swords with an enemy in battle”. And he underlines this: “It’s for those reasons that I’m asking you to do this. Can I count on you?” Guts dismisses this cautionary tone from Griffith, like he thinks his loyalty or dedication are being questioned: “It ain’t like you. Just cut to the chase, and order me to do it. Like always”. Guts is behaving like a subordinate, requesting Griffith’s orders without discussing the plan or objecting Griffith’s motivations. This behavior, this reliance on Griffith’s judgment only, shared by the members of the band of the Hawk, could be a contributing factor for Griffith to believe that a real friend should be an equal, should be able to object and challenge his point of view, or offer another opinion. I admit I don’t know if I understood well enough what is shown in these scenes, that are rich of so many nuances that I could be also misinterpreting them. But I noticed a similar dynamic previously, at the time of Guts’s very first battle in the band of the Hawk, being in the rear guard. Griffith asking: “Can you do it?” and Guts replaying: “It’s an order, right?”. I can’t assess if these interactions hide a challenge, a confirmation of allegiance, but it doesn’t seem to me to be an equal exchange, as if the balance between Guts and Griffith is off somewhere. If we were to use the same terms used in Aristotle’s Ethics, it seems to me that it’s primarily Guts here responsible for only offering a friendship of utility to Griffith. He isn’t doing it intentionally, he doesn’t seem to know differently as a consequence of his affective habits.
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It would come full circle later on, in another crucial moment between Griffith and Guts, with Griffith expressing doubts about using Guts this way once more and much more openly: “Does it seem cruel? I involved you in this filthy scheme… and I didn’t even get my hands dirty. Do you think that I’m cruel?”. And Guts’s words won’t offer him any reassurance, only the reaffirmation of the importance of following the dream till the end. All these moments are orchestrated to be in dissonance, always out of sync. An array of missed opportunities for understanding the other or being able to help in their moments of vulnerability. Two people with complex needs, that they weren’t able to address in any significant way, trying to connect with each other but always missing the right moment.
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colowallocakes · 1 year
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the walk through the city is equal parts overwhelming and awe inspiring. if kou thought that the train was packed, the streets are even more so. there arent any cars, but there are trolley carts that transport the citizens all around the city.
nene explains that, given how old the city is, there isnt any one name for it. there are too many conflicting cultures in this part of the far shore, too many that call this place home, so they simply dont bother with a name.
the part of the city they’re walking through reminds kou of an old time painting, with sloping hills and vendors calling wherever booths can be placed. it feels lived in and rich with culture.
after walking for a couple of minutes, they come to a diner on a corner with a flickering sign and windows that encircle it. from inside, a boy in a faded uniform waves to nene and she waves back. the boy pauses upon seeing kou and its hard to miss the look of shock in his eyes.
“um... he doesnt look too happy to see me.” kou mumbles nervously.
nene opens the door for him and says, “its probably because you’re an exorcist.” she says it casually and kou realizes he never did tell her what his family did for a living. she looks back at him and waves a hand. “i knew from the moment we met.”
he doesnt know how she knew exactly, but he doesnt have time to question her as they slip into the busy diner. no one looks up at them, he seems to pass by without anyone noticing.
the boy, hanako, isnt nearly as uncaring. he stands with a start and looks from nene to kou. “nene, holy shit, why did you bring a minamoto here?!”
its said in a quiet hiss but someone has overheard them and suddenly there is a lull in the conversations around them. kou feels sick and dizzy. nene rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“he’s not a minamoto.” she says, loud enough that the crowd can hear her. “you cant just accuse every blond haired, blue eyed person of being a serial killer, hanako-kun.”
for a moment, the crowd murmurs, before carrying on and forgetting about the trio. hanako stares at his girlfriend incredulously and she leans closer to hiss, “do not make a scene.” and takes a seat.
kou stands helplessly beside the table, looking from nene to hanako and wonders if he should leave. but then, he doesnt even know how to get back home. nene smiles up at him and he takes a seat beside her.
“hanako-kun, this is kou-kun.” she introduces the two with a pleasant smile. “hanako-kun is one of the seven mysteries in a school across the shore.” she seems proud of that.
“oh. like... the toilet girl?” kou asks, glancing at the waitress as she passes. she looks like a bird of some kind.
“yeah. sort of.” he mumbles in response. “and you’re the child of a family of murderers.” he says flatly. “honored, i’m sure.”
“i...” he cant find an excuse to give to the boy across from him. what can he actually say? the minamotos are absolutely the stuff of nightmares to these people. “its not...like that...”
“are you serious?”
“listen,” nene butts in between the two with a stern expression. “kou-kun ran away from home. he’s got no ties to those people, he’s not a threat and he’s my friend.” then, to hanako, “so be nice. got it?”
hanako looks at her with a scowl and they seem to have an entire conversation with just their eyes. kou feels incredibly out of place and equally unwelcome. after a moment, hanako scoffs and leans back in his seat.
“whatever.” he mutters. “you’ll do whatever you want anyway.”
nene smiles and claps. “glad that we can agree.” then, turning to kou, “are you hungry? lets have lunch.” she smiles.
he is hungry, but he doesnt know if he can really eat anything without throwing up. kou nods and smiles. “sure.”
the menu is in a language he cannot understand, the writing ancient squiggles he only knows from history class. nene reads the menu to him and suggests the sandwich.
the waitress takes their orders and when she leaves, kou says, “i didnt know ghosts could eat.”
hanako theatrically places his hands down on the table and looks at nene. “he is literally hate crimeing me right now, nene.” he says flatly. “your friend is a bigot.”
“he is not, dont be so dramatic.” she rolls her eyes. “humans dont know things like this.”
its been a handful of minutes since he’s known hanako, but kou is certain that they will never be friends. “i’m sorry. i didnt mean to offend you.”
“whatever.”
“spirits can eat anything from this shore.” nene explains, passing him a glass of soda that the waitress sets down. “on the near shore, we can only eat whats offered to us on obon or hand made for us.”
“oh.”
that makes sense, he supposes. it brings to mind an awful lot of questions. instead, he opts to ask, “is it safe for me to eat here? i wont get stuck here?”
“you’ll be alright.” nene says with a smile. “you’re an exorcist, so you can come and go as you please. normal humans couldnt.”
what a relief. as much as kou adores the city, he isnt sure he could handle being trapped here. the food comes and kou is in awe of how good everything tastes. its distinctly different to anything he’s ever had, but familiar in its own way.
when they’re finished, nene invites him to come visit their apartment and hanako firmly puts his foot down.
“i dont want him anywhere near there.” he says flatly. when nene turns to protest, he says, “i know you trust him and i know he looks friendly, but we cant just trust someone just because they’re “not talking” to their psychopath family.”
kou wants to defend his family, but the reality of their lives settles like a rock in his belly. he cant blame hanako for not trusting him. he cant blame hanako for being afraid. if teru had still been keeping tabs on him, they’d have all been at risk and that isnt something he can ignore.
“hanako-kun...”
“its alright.” kou says after a moment. he aims a small smile her way. “i understand where he’s coming from. i dont blame him at all.” her expression is distraught and he says, “i’ll just have to prove to you both that i’m not a threat.”
hanako eyes him, drifting over to wrap his arms around nene protectively. “yeah? how’re you gonna do that?”
“i dunno. but i’ll figure it out.”
its a long walk back to the station. nene talks about the various places they pass and hanako chimes in now and then to mention his favorite ramen shop or where the best shops are. its tense, sure, but kou is happy to be here with them.
the train ride home is calm and kou is exhausted. hanako keeps an eye on him as nene drifts in and out of sleep. it feels nice to sit and take it all in without expectations.
nene walks him out of the station and back to the pier. its about 7pm and its her shift. hanako bids her goodbye with a hug and an obnoxiously loud smooch to the cheek. kou rolls his eyes at the display and walks with nene to the cafe.
its busy in the human realm, loud, none of the glamor that the far shore had. he misses it already.
“i hope you dont let what hanako-kun said get to you.” she says, as they come to the cafe. “he’s been hurt, we all have, but i know that you arent part of that.” she smiles warmly at him. “no one who loves that city can possibly be evil.”
its the first time since returning, that kou feels any amount of comfort. he itches his head and says, “its a lot to think about. i want to consider it a little bit more first. if my family has hurt people, i’m just as much a part of that as they are. and i cant just brush that off.”
nene regards him with a strange expression, as if she’s seeing him for the first time. then, her smile warms and she pats his shoulder. “you’re the real deal.” she says. “lets talk about this more when we have a shift together.”
“sure. dont work too hard tonight, get home safe!”
“i will!”
after bidding nene goodbye, kou heads back to his dreary little flat across the city. its small and mostly empty, cluttered with the few belongings he has. kou decides to lay down for bed early tonight.
in the darkness, he sees the city lights of the far shore. thinks about the sights and sounds, the people he’s now seeing as people and not monsters. its a dazzling vision that he cant forget easily.
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neonacity · 1 year
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Thank you for updating arcane I'm loving blood red but I was missing my rosewood boys and girl
I KNEW THE WAR WAS COMING the talk mc had with her father was so idk intense even I was tense reading it. The one who betrayed them could be haneul himself cause he was evil in the first season
Mc and Mark's marriage... I get her father's point as much as get hers I also understand why she loves mark, jeno and jaemin (maybe renjun and haechan) romantically I mean I would to
I just know the other boys where dying of jealousy for mark being the one having the marriage propose with her (I can see nomin getting sad and hurt)
I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I was thinking there's 22 arcana cards and there's dream, mc, and some wayv members as not arcana holders so I'm SURE 127 will be the rest of them but TEN AND MIJEONG master of the chariot and master of the strength I never thought they would have a arcana
Thank you again for another amazing chapter, and what did you think about Taylor's new album midnights? It's soooo perfect I can't stop listening to it, I just loved maroon (thats jeno's song), anti hero, labyrinth and the great war
Mariiii! Thank you for reading as usual! Yeah nomin did have some feelings after they overheard that conversation for sure. Lol. Renjun and Haechan too though those two are probably pouting more because, marriage really? Before they even made proper moves? The audacity lmao.
I am happy you liked the introduction of the other masters though. I've been dying to reveal them for such a long long time. And yes, our girl Mijeong is one of them (and probably is one of the most badass 😏).
Oh god I LOVE Taylor's Midnights album though. It has been on repeat, i am not even kidding. My favorites are also Maroon and Labyrinth but Midnight Rain is at the top at the moment, it'a literally the inspiration between Mark and MC for this chapter 🥲
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amultifandomnerd · 3 years
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Ty: I want ice cream
Kit: no one cares Ty, you should have ate your ice cream *rides bike away in circles in the street* ca caw ca caw
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robinofgothamcity · 3 years
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♡ prompt: your relationship with Damian isn’t what is seems like.
♡ pairing: damian wayne (robin), bart allen (impulse) x fem reader
♡ lyric inspiration: “it’s just a little too late, you say you dream about me but you don’t like me, you just like the chase so be real, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes 
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you were blasting music into your headphones as you were trying to finish everything you needed to get done for the week. graduation was coming in just a few weeks and you had been neck deep in homework with essays and exams coming in from left and right. 
you had even been putting off even hanging out or going on dates with Damian because your lack of time. he kept telling you that it was okay but in the back of your head, you felt wrong for denying him every time he asked you out. 
Jon and Billy had been in the lair’s living room, lazying around until Nightwing or even Batman came in to give all of you times and coordinates for your patrolling tonight. you hadn’t even been hearing their conversation since your music was drowning out their conversations. 
when you realized that your coffee had ran out and everything that you needed in order to make a new cup was in the kitchen, you took off your headphones and grabbed your cup, walking slowly to living room. 
“where’s Damian?” Billy asked, kicking his shoes off, “oh, he’s training. ever since graduation for Gotham Academy came closer, ( your name ) has been putting him off to study so he’s been training to kill time.” 
your eyebrows fluttered in confusion, not knowing if what Jon was saying was rude or not. “I have to give Damian props though,” Jon continued, “he’s been with her for two months now! we even had a small bet going to see how long he would be able to date her and he’s clearly won since he’s been with her longer than the month we bet on. even a few of the titans had placed bets that it wouldn’t last as long as it did. Raven put in a measly two weeks,” Jon laughed. 
your eyes stared down at the ground, completely watery and stinging, “hey, that just shows Damian can commit to things that aren’t training although it’s like you said, it’s surprising they’re even together if she keeps putting him off,” Billy added on. 
not realizing that your cup had slipped your grasp, the metal collided with the ground, making Jon and Billy turn around. they could see the hurt in your eyes as you remained frozen in place. 
“hey ( your name ),” Jon murmured, “did you hear what we were talking about?” Billy asked, afraid at the answer. 
your eyes turned into rage as you picked up your cup off the floor, “tell Damian that since our month is over, we’re done,” Jon immediately sprang up, “hey! please, don’t say that! you’re completely not understanding what we’re saying!” Jon said frantically. 
Damian walked out of the solo training room, seeing Jon and Billy’s expressions as the tears ran down your face, “what’s going on?” Damian asked. you laughed, not wanting to even look at him, “great! you’re here! since our relationship was based on a bet that you had money on that would only last a month, you can count it as we’re over now!” you exclaimed.
you slammed your laptop and grabbed your backpack as Damian ran towards you. in a fit of complete rage, you turned around and punched him square in the stomach, making him fall onto Jon. 
“go fuck yourself! as a matter of fact, you can find another member for the Titans! I quit!” you screamed, slamming your mask down onto the table and leaving the lair, “wait! please, this isn’t how you think it went down, please!” Damian begged. 
you gave him the finger, “I hope you, right along with Jon and Billy, enjoy sitting on the shame that is playing with people’s emotions,” you said as Nightwing walked into the hallway, clearly lost on what was happening, “the next time you, Jon, Billy, hell! even the Titan’s decide to play with people’s emotion for the sake of getting money, make sure it’s someone who’s not on the same team as you,” you whispered. 
“don’t leave, please don’t leave. Nightwing, stop her!” Damian said in panic as you got onto your bike, “Nightwing, since the Titan’s are now down a member, you can tell whoever was fighting a place that my spot is now vacant,” you managed to say before revving your bike and riding onto the street. 
“what is going on?” Nightwing asked the three. he had never saw Damian so hurt, meanwhile Billy and Jon were left speechless, “my girlfriend just broke up with me!” Damian murmured, a feeling in his heart that he had never felt before, “she overheard a conversation Billy and I were having but I think she only heard a piece of it,” Jon tried to rationalize. 
Damian looked at the two, pure rage coming over his body, “it’s both your fault?” he screamed, charging them with his sword. Nightwing quickly grabbed his brother, taking the sword away from his grasp, “she only heard some of the conversation! we never meant for her to actually get upset.” 
Nightwing stood in between the three, “listen, whatever happened, all of you need to apologize. now, I can’t promise that she’ll rejoin the team,” he warned Damian, “if she decides to come back, that’ll be her decision....AND HER DECISION only,” Nightwing said, “but if she decides not too, I can’t force her to overturn her decision,” he added on, “no matter who you’re related too.”
Damian knew he was hinting at Bruce when he added in the last part. there was no way any of them could actually convince you to come back if you didn’t want too. they could try and persuade you but it was ultimately your decision if you wanted to rejoin the team. 
+
once you got back home, you felt as though your heart hadn’t completely accepted what happened. a part of you felt like it was some sort of sick joke and you needed to wake up from it. 
alas, it wasn’t and you knew that what Damian and you had was something that wasn’t going to happen again. it stung knowing that Jon, the one who seemed so innocent all the time, was actually in on the joke and was sitting there and laughing at you. 
you hadn’t known Billy for that long. the two of you became acquainted not long after you got with Damian and while you thought of him as a friend, it still hurt that he too was in on the joke. 
your mom was working late as she was helping Gotham Academy with situating for graduation planning. your mom didn’t know about you and Damian thankfully so even though you were completely heartbroken, it’s not like she knew about what you were going through. 
you flopped onto your bed, trying to control your breathing when the doorbell rang. tiptoeing to the front door, hoping it wasn’t any of the three idiots, you were stricken with relief when you saw that it was Bart of all people.
“hey Allen, what are you up too? wait a minute, what you doing here in Gotham?” you asked, welcoming him inside. Bart chuckled softly, “I’m here for some stuff on the behalf of my family. don’t worry about it,” he murmured, “I went to the lair looking for you and you were gone.” 
you hummed, not knowing if you were willing to tell him the actual story of why you weren’t there, “you okay? you look like you were crying!” he exclaimed, seeing the puffyness under your eye and the redness around it. you sighed shakily, “truthfully? I’m not but it’s nothing to worry about,” you tried to say calmly. 
Bart gave you a look, not fully convinced, “seriously? I can’t talk to you about the real reason on why I’m here if you’re upset. tell me!” he restated, looking at you dead in the eye. you dragged him inside, not wanting anyone to heart, especially if Damian was on his bullshit and spying on you.
you got Bart up to your room, locking the door and leaning up against the door. your back against it as you tried to contain your tears and running your hands through your hair, “I broke up with my boyfriend recently and I’ve been having a lot of issues with it since I found out,” you finally confessed. 
Bart’s eyes twitched in annoyance, “you were dating someone?” he asked, a bit hurt that the girl he had been crushing on not only had a boyfriend but you were now heartbroken over it. you nodded, “not that my identity was ever a secret but I was dating Robin,” your eye twitched this time, annoyed at mentioning Damian.
Bart stood in disbelief, not believing that Robin, the one everyone thought was perfect, had broken up with you. a part of him wanted to strangle the boy but he knew that Robin was a lot more stronger than he was.
“if you don’t mind me asking, can I ask what happened?” Bart played with his fingers nervously. you stared at the ground, scared if you looked at Bart, you would bawl your eyes out, “he started dating me as a joke. he had made a bet with a few other sidekicks about being able to date me for a month and the longer he dated me, the more money he made,” your tears fell almost immediately at the confession. 
Bart’s anger immediately rose as he tried to not say anything irrational, “are you kidding?” he asked. you shook your head no, not knowing what to say, “can I kick his ass?” he asked again, making you laugh for the first time in a while. 
“sorry Allen but you know I won’t let you...especially because you and I both know how that would end,” you giggled, making Bart agree. you sat down on the bed next to him, “now why are you here? although I think I might know why,” you murmured. 
The Flash family, especially Bart and Barry had taken an interest in you when you first joined the Titans. your powers had given you the ability to be as fast as the Flashes were. you weren’t exactly as speedy as Flash but your powers did let you have competition with Bart’s speed. 
“you know Central city has been calling your name,” Bart whispered, looking at you. “you know you’d have a position with us and you wouldn’t be around Robin if you weren’t comfortable being around him,” Bart added in the last part. 
you bit your lip, “come on, you know better than anyone that Gotham has nothing for you,” he tried to rationalize, “yeah, you have potential with the Bats but you know that joining us would make you an even bigger hero than you are here,” he said. 
“Bart, is this really the reason why you want me to join all of you?” you asked. Bart nodded, hoping that you were actually considering it, “of course! you can join us out for patrol tonight and if you like it, you can join us over in Central City when you graduate,” he exclaimed. 
“tonight? with who?” you asked. Bart pointed to himself with confidence, “with the one and only, Bart Allen!” he boasted. you laughed, “just tonight and if I don’t like it, I get to stay here!” you said, pointing your finger at his chest. 
“SERIOUSLY?” he asked surprised. you nodded as you saw the time, “sure but remember what I said!” you yelled as he ran around your room in excitement. 
the time you had ever went to Central City was when you went with Damian and Bruce on the behalf of Bat business so the feeling that you were now no longer going there with them felt a bit out of place. you looked at the time as Bart had told you that it wouldn’t take to long to get there with both your speeds. 
you grabbed you uniform out of your closet and looked at the time, sensing that both you and Bart should get to Central City before both of your patrol times started. you could see the excitement coming from Bart as he was basically talking your ear off the entire way back to Central City. 
-
through the following few days, you had actively ignored Jon, Damian, and Billy. it was harder for you to ignore Jon and Damian as they had known your home address but every time Raven had informed you on one of the boys coming and paying you a visit, Bart always seemed to come over and get you out of the house before they could. 
this time was no different but today, you couldn’t ignore Damian even if you wanted too. today was Gotham’s graduation and with both you and Damian graduating at the top of the class, you both had to sat on the stage, right next to each other. 
you had worn a plain neutral yellow dress with black shoes as you tried to follow Gotham’s school colors. the actual cap and gowns were not as cute as they had the tacky yellow cap and gown with black lining that made all of you look like bee’s. 
up until this moment, you still hadn’t decided on what your plans were for after graduation. you had a bunch of unanswered acceptance letters from different University’s around the U.S. and one of them was from Central City State University. 
they had personally reached out to you in order to attend their school. you had been thinking about actually accepting their letter for a while now and with Bart now offering to be your partner, you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity. you hadn’t told anyone besides your mother about the move to Central City and while she was upset to see you leave, she knew it was best to let you finally be on your own. 
you had gotten to Gotham Academy, a bit early and tired as you had stayed up late with being on Face Time with Bart. the two of you had gotten closer over the course of the last few weeks and while you were still extremely heartbroken over Damian’s actions, a part of your heart was starting to fix itself with Bart now mending that piece. 
you, on a very sporadic thought, had invited Bart and Barry to your graduation as you didn’t want to run into the chance of actually having to be alone with Damian. you wanted to make sure that you were either around your mom or Bart when everything was finished. 
the stage had been set by the time you got to the Auditorium as you had saw your mom along with Bart and Barry in the front. since you were moving to Central City, partially for college and partially to continue doing hero work there, your mom had to introduce and get familiar with the family that was soon taking you in. 
everyone knew that everyone who were connected to the Flash family had this flamboyant personality to them so when Barry and Bart introduced themselves to your mom, she was quite taken back. nevertheless, she did end up getting along well with them and felt safe with you moving there. 
Damian had saw you sitting in the chair, on your phone as everyone sat in their seats. what he hadn’t realized was that Bart and Barry were right next to your mom. he had heard about your endeavors with going over to Central City to ‘intern’ with the Flash family and while he didn’t want to believe it, a part of him felt as though that might’ve been actually true now. 
Damian looked at you with guilt crossing his face. you hadn’t been face to face with him since that fateful night and although it took every ounce of power to not scream at him, for the sake of his identity and the fact that all of you had to be professional, you gave him the side eye and turned to your headmaster who was approaching the stand. 
Gotham Academy’s graduation had felt like centuries before it finally came to your turn to speak on the behalf of your class. you smiled at the crowd, waving at your family and the Allen’s before looking down at your paper. you gulped in nervousness as you began your speech. 
“and although I have been keeping my college acceptance a secret, within the last few weeks, I’ve had the privilege of being scouted by a few schools and finally came down to the decision last week on which university I would attend. it is my honor and with grace to finally announce that I will be attending Central City State University in the fall! go Falcons!” you told the crowd as you opened up your gown to show off the school sweater. 
you saw Bart’s face light up with excitement as he realized that you had accepted the Flash’s invitation to work with them. Damian had also realized that the rumors surrounding you actually leaving the Titan’s to work with the Flash was actually true and he felt his heart break realizing that you were no longer a part of his life. 
you sat back down in your seat with a smirk playing on your face as you could basically feel Damian’s stare coming down on you. it wasn’t until after graduation when all of you got the chance to join your families again when you saw Bart and everyone else. 
“are you really joining us in Central City?” he asked excitedly. you nodded, giving Bart a hug. the hug didn’t feel friendly. not in the slightest. it felt almost romantic as the two of you remained in an embrace longer than you had realized, “than I’m so glad our plan actually worked out!” Barry said in relief. 
your eyebrows fluttered in confusion but he told you it was a surprise that you wouldn’t see until you got to Central City tonight. you nodded as all you had decided to take pictures before heading to eat. you had noticed Damian approaching you, a determined stare on his face but Bart quickly realized it and grabbed you by the wrist, making you join Barry and your mom again. 
the night finally entered as you had made your way to Central City in order to get settled into your new apartment by signing the final papers over to the apartment. Barry and Bart had offered to show you around your new home, as if you hadn’t already recognized Central City already but nevertheless, you complied and let them show you. 
you got into the core of the city, the lights twinkling and the noises of cars making you feel as though you were in a movie. Bart had covered your eyes with his hands as he told you your secret was coming up. a nervous feeling crept up to your stomach as you had no idea what was going on. 
finally, all of you stopped and that was when Bart took his hands off your eyes. you stared at the large billboard that was high up in the sky as you felt tears spring your eyes. 
“welcoming Central City’s newest superhero.” 
the billboard read as it had a picture of you right next to the lettering. you looked to Barry and Bart before engulfing them into a hug as you thanked them profusely. Barry shrugged you off, “we should be thanking you. you’re going to help us so much! it’s the least we could do,” he said as Bart agreed. 
Barry had mentioned that all of you were going to catch dinner at a restaurant and your reservation should be coming up soon. he had gotten the head start, whispering to Bart that he’d leave the two of you alone for a moment. 
“seriously, thank you so much Bart,” you whispered, giving him another hug. he chuckled nervously, trying to wave you off, “you have no idea how much this means to me,” you added on. 
you looked to Bart and got on your toes, hoping that your next action wasn’t a mistake. you gave him a quick peck on the cheek, making Bart go red in the face. it hadn’t fully set in that you kissed him until he realized that he hadn’t said anything back yet. 
Bart grabbed your hand, giving it a soft kiss before doing the same to your cheek. you smiled at him shyly, grabbing his hand before telling him that you were going to be late for the reservation with Barry. 
-
months had passed since you had started your new life in Central City. you hadn’t spared anyone in Gotham a second thought unless you were visiting your mom so you hadn’t contacted Damian or any of the Titan’s since then. 
however, you had to go with Bart to the Titan’s tower today. you had to meet up with Nightwing there to get information Barry needed for a case. you were hoping that you didn’t run into any of the idiots while you were there with Bart but luck was not on your side that day and upon reaching the Titan’s tower, you were met with not only Damian but with Jon and Billy. 
“where’s Nightwing?” you asked them. Jon gave you a sheepish smile, “he’ll be here soon,” he responded. you nodded, grabbing Bart’s hand and heading to the couch to say hello to Raven and Beast Boy. 
the four of you got into conversation until Damian walked in, basically dragging you into the kitchen as Bart immediately stood up, running to where you were. 
“what the fuck is your issue?” you yelled, snatching your hand back. Bart knew you could hold your own but he still wanted to make sure you were okay, “we need to talk,” he stated, looking to Bart. you laughed, “yeah, whatever you have to say you can say right now. I refuse to talk to you alone,” you said back. 
Damian growled as Jon and Billy stood up, “that night when everything went down, we want to say that it was all a mistake. you had only heard a portion of what we were saying. we never intentionally made a bet on the two of you. we had made a bet that was basically us telling Da-Robin that he couldn’t do anything besides train and fight. Robin had actual feelings for you and the bet was never intentionally set on you. we swear,” Jon explained. 
you looked to Damian and Billy as they both agreed. you rolled your eyes annoyed, “you think I’d actually believe that?” you looked to Bart and laughed before taking his hand, “the next time you actually want to make up lies, make sure they’re actually fucking believable!” you exclaimed laughing. 
Bart laughed along with you, “you think we’re lying?” Damian yelled, “yeah because why should I ever believe what any of you three have to say. all of you are a bunch of pricks that are so far up your own asses that no one with an actual working brain would believe that lie.” 
Bart’s mouth, along with everyone else, hung in disbelief and surprise. “seriously, the next time we see each other, make up a better lie and for the record, working with and in Central City has been actually been so refreshing! no offense,” you said looking over to the rest of the Titan’s, “especially since he’s been making it a lot easier,” you gave Bart a wink as he blushed slightly. 
“so unless we actually have to speak to each other on professional terms, don’t bank on me ever contacting any of you again.” 
you grabbed Bart’s hand as Nightwing had walked into the tower and the three of you walked into a solo conference room to actually do what Barry had sent you two for. 
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cutiequokka · 3 years
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Excuse Me, Noonas (Moonsun and Jisung)
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Genre: Smut (God help me this is FILTH)
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: F/M and F/F smut, threesome, there’s quite the age difference between them, Moonbyul's a little mean in the beginning (but just because of stress), Dom!Moonbyul, Brat/Switch!Solar, Sub!Jisung, mommy kink, slight noona kink, dirty talk, hair-pulling, lots of praise for Sungie and some degradation for Solar
Summary: All Jisung had wanted to do was congratulate them on a fantastic performance, but instead, he got roped into a rather interesting evening...
A/N: I am not actually shipping them, this is purely a fictional piece made for entertainment purposes only, just like the rest of my fics. I simply thought this was a fun way to combine my two favorite groups while still getting my hornyness out, please don’t kill me!!!
Alright, so now that that’s out of the way, this fic is inspired by this video of Jisung watching Mamamoo perform Destiny and Hip. This interaction literally killed my staymoo heart, even if they weren’t actually meeting each other. Also, I know this is definitely not how award shows work backstage and stuff, but just play along, it makes the story so much more enjoyable.
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“You’re seriously gonna do it?” Changbin scoffed, looking at him incredulously.
Chan sent him a glare before turning to the nervous Jisung reassuringly. “You’ll be fine Sungie, just go tell them you liked the performance and that they did a great job.”
Jisung gulped, the prospect of addressing his favorite noona idols a daunting task to him. “Wh-what if I make a fool out of myself?”
Minho, who had overheard the conversation, leaned over and spoke directly into his ear. “It’s bound to happen at some point, you might as well get it over with.” Chan stepped between them with a huff and shot Minho his best ‘angry father’ look.
“What Minho means to say is that what’s the worse that could happen? You don’t even have to talk for long, but wouldn’t it still be cool just to meet them?”
“I sure would like to, especially the thicc one,” Jeongin mumbled, his eyes turning glassy as his mind probably filled with the vivid image of Hwasa spitting at the camera. Seungmin made a disgusted face at the maknae.
“Innie, she’s like 7 years older than you!”
“And still hot!!”
“Oh my god, shut up, I’m gonna go now,” Jisung groaned, adjusting his outfit and hair quickly before shooting the group a timid smile and thumbs up. And just like that, he was briskly walking down the hallway, his mind reeling and heart beating a million miles per hour.
To say Jisung was nervous was an understatement. Ever since he had first seen Mamamoo perform, he had become enamored with their angelic voices, their stage presence, their musicality, and admittedly, their gorgeous looks. Sure, he wasn’t as blunt as Jeongin, but Jisung would be a liar if he said he didn’t find them incredibly hot, particularly the rapper and blonde one. Moonbyul and Solar, as he had come to know from some googling. That combined with their pure talent sent Jisung’s brain into simp mode, desperately trying to calm down so as to not embarrass himself.
The dressing room doors passed by as he walked each with a group’s name on it. Itzy, Twice, Day6 (he’d be sure to tell Seungmin about that one), BTS, Everglow… there. Mamamoo. He stopped in front of the room, trying his best to steady his breathing. You got it, Jisung, just don’t screw it up. As he reached out to knock on the door, he was surprised to see it drift open, apparently having not been latched shut. Jisung’s heart dropped as he wondered if they had already gone home, but poking his head in, he was met with a sight that made him freeze in his tracks.
The rapper, Moonbyul, had Solar’s arms pinned above her head against the wall, her back to Jisung, completely oblivious to the boy standing stunned in the doorway. Solar stared back at her defiantly, whimpering as Moonbyul kicked her legs apart and leaned in to connect their lips in a kiss…
Jisung made a noise of surprise that caused both girls to immediately jump away from each other, spinning around to face him. Solar looked like a mixture of terror and shame, whereas Moonbyul simply glared at him with a look that, embarrassingly, made his heart rate speed up even faster.
“I-I’m sorry noona- noonas, I’m so sorry to intrude, I came to say good job with the performance and the door was open so I just peeked in and I’m sorry please don’t kill me I swear I won’t tell anyone-”
Moonbyul marched over and yanked Jisung in the room, slamming the door shut behind in a way that made the poor boy flinch. “What’s your name, are you a fan?” Solar asked, eyes wide in shock as she signaled for Moonbyul to take it down a notch.
“I’m H-Han Jisung, and yes, wait no, not like that! I-I’m in a group, Stray Kids? Under JYP entertainment?” A look of recognition crossed Solar’s face as she nodded, running a hand through her hair.
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of you guys,” Jisung’s chest swelled with pride despite the humiliating situation, excited that she even had the slightest idea who he was.
That pride was immediately squashed, however, when Moonbyul came back into view, rubbing a hand over her face. “Jisung, listen carefully. You cannot, absolutely cannot tell anyone what you just saw, got it?” He nodded frantically, shrinking away as Moonbyul’s gaze seemed to cut through him like a blade. He whimpered, tears starting to form in his eyes. He’d messed everything up, they hated him, he was the worst idol in the history of-
“Byulie, stop it! You’re scaring him!” Solar yelled, stepping between the two of them. “Look, he’s obviously terrified, I think he gets the point.”
Moonbyul sighed, regret flashing across her face. “Sorry,” she muttered, “It’s just that, you know, this could ruin us. We can’t have anyone knowing.” Jisung nodded, letting his tears slip freely down his cheeks as every cell in his brain screamed at him for being the most colossal dumbass to ever live.
“Hey, no no no, please don’t cry sweetie,” Solar said, wiping his cheek. The contact made Jisung blush and flinch away, shocked she would want to touch the boy who could ruin her career thanks to his stupidity. Maybe this was her way of buttering him up to stay quiet? Either way, Jisung didn’t care. Her fingertips felt nice, cool against the hotness of his cheeks. Without even realizing it, he was leaning into the touch, desperate for any sort of affection he could get from the girls he was supposedly trying to impress when he first knocked on their dressing room door.
Solar smiled, finding herself drawn to the boy in front of her’s cuteness. He really did seem sorry, and she knew he hadn’t intended to walk in on them on purpose. Sure, it wasn’t ideal, but at least Jisung seemed like he wouldn’t blab. She glanced over at Moonbyul, who looked tense but had calmed down considerably. Solar made a jerking motion with her head towards the boy as his eyes fluttered shut, practically nuzzling her palm as she wiped the tears off his cheeks. Moonbyul chuckled, mouthing a quick “cute” before Jisung’s eyes snapped open again at the sound.
“W-wait, where are the others?”
“Wheein and Hwasa? Oh, they...” The girls exchanged looks, a knowing gaze passing between them.
“...went home early,” Solar finished, and Jisung didn’t see it fit to press further.
“So baby, what did you want to tell noona when you first got here?”
He blushed profusely at the nickname, shifting on his feet as his eyes fell to the ground. “U-um, I liked your performance, and your songs make me dance, and your voice is really really pretty.” Solar grinned, patting his cheek affectionately.
“That’s very sweet of you to say. What about Byulie?”
He glanced over at Moonbyul quickly, hurrying to compliment the other girl as well, hopefully winning some points back. “Y-you’re a good rapper! I like your voice too, it’s so raspy and warm, and it makes me feel butterflies in my stoma-” Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to say that part. Moonbyul raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking far more interested.
“Is that so?” She asked, sharing a look at Solar as he blushed and nodded shallowly. Moonbyul laughed again, this time sounding more rich and genuine. “That’s actually kinda adorable, baby.”
There it was, that damn nickname again. Jisung shivered, ducking his head down to his chest to avoid eye contact. No one knew he liked being called that, and especially no one knew it was certainly a subspace switch for him. Solar cocked her head to the side and surveyed him, watching as his pupils dilated and his breath grew more shallow. “Do you like it when we call you baby, Jisungie?” Jisung nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as well as his legs, frantically trying not to get turned on even as two insanely pretty girls hit his weakest spot.
Suddenly, Solar’s hand was removed from his face, and he heard shuffling as the oldest made her way over to Moonbyul. There was whispering, causing Jisung to look up in confusion, only to see the two of them discussing something with their backs to him. He whined, disappointed at the loss of contact, which caused them to look back over and Solar to look up at Moonbyul with puppy dog eyes.
“Pleeeeease Byulie, look at how cute he is!”
Moonbyul’s eyes surveyed Jisung skeptically, gaze snagging on his blushing face and the teeth nervously chewing on his bottom lip. She sighed, un-crossing her arms and looking over at the pouting Solar.
“Fine, but under 2 conditions: He is 110% okay with it-” Solar mumbled a quick ���of course”, anticipating the purple-haired girl’s next words intensely.
“-And I dom.”
Jisung froze in place, his mind going into an absolute frenzy. Dom? Dom what? Him?? His gaze flicked back and forth between the two, thinking he surely must have misheard. Or he died of embarrassment and already made it to heaven…
Solar nodded enthusiastically, planting a quick kiss on Moonbyul’s cheek as a silent thank you before making her way over to a now even more anxious Jisung. “Aww, look at you, so adorable.” She lightly grasped his chin to move his head up to make eye contact with her, gaze soft and understanding. Holy shit, this is happening, Jisung’s brain screamed as her gaze flickered between his eyes and trembling lips.
As if seeing him as a timid squirrel who may run at any moment, Solar chose her next words very deliberately and clearly.“We won’t do anything if you don’t want to, baby,” but Jisung was already shaking his head before she could even finish her sentence.
“N-no!! I wanna… I wanna do, uh, ‘this’ if you guys are ok with it and everything, but I don’t wanna be in the way, I can just leave if you want maybe this was stupi-”
“No no baby, we want this too,” Moonbyul piped up, crossing over to them. She gave Solar a look that immediately made her drop Jisung’s chin, a blush creeping onto her face. Moonbyul chuckled. “Unnie thinks she can dom a pretty boy like you, but don’t be fooled. She’s just a needy little sub at heart.” Solar whined, pouting in a way that made Jisung giggle. Moonbyul smirked at his reaction, tussling his hair with a look of admiration in her eyes. “You were right unnie, he’s simply too cute to pass up. We sure got lucky today.”
Jisung keened at the praise, leaning into her hand and making both the girls coo. “I got lucky too,” he grinned, eyes slipping shut, not being able to comprehend how this came to be but not seeming to care. Solar took this opportunity to press her lips to his, the younger gasping at the sudden yet sweet kiss. She tasted like strawberry lipgloss, a detail Jisung couldn’t help but latch onto for some reason. Moonbyul made a pleased noise as she watched the boy simply melt against her girlfriend’s amazing lips.
“Jisung, baby, look at me.”
Jisung’s eyes fluttered open before he reluctantly pulled away from Solar, face already flushed and panting. Moonbyul grinned at his obedience. “Such a good boy, doing exactly as I say, I won’t even need to train you.” Jisung whimpered, pressing his thighs together and nodding frantically.
“I’ll b-be as good as I can for you, Mommy.”
Moonbyul groaned in appreciation, the boy unknowingly hitting her favorite title directly. On the first try, no less. “Fuck, baby, good job. You hear that Solar? He knows how to behave, unlike someone else.” Solar stuck out her tongue and dove back in for a second kiss, but Moonbyul grabbed her hair and yanked her back before their lips could connect. “You’re such a slut, baby, you can’t even have the respect to warn our poor guest when you’re about to devour him?” Solar moaned softly at the tingling pain of her scalp, loving it way too much. Jisung watched the interaction eagerly, bulge starting to form in his pants as his nervousness quickly gave way to pure need. “Aww, look at little Jisungie, already getting hard for his noonas,” Moonbyul laughed, releasing Solar’s hair to kneel down in front of him. “May I touch you, baby?”
Jisung nodded so hard his neck ached, causing both girls to chuckle. Moonbyul brought one long hand to cup his cheek, the other slipping down to his bulge and giving a light, yet firm press. Out of instinct, Jisung bucked his hips up, desperate for more pressure, but soon Solar was by his side holding his hips in place. The touches continued to be barely there, just mere ghosts of strokes and massaging on his aching dick. Eventually, despite wanting to be a good boy, Jisung whined in annoyance.
“More Mommy, please, I want you to touch me more!” Moonbyul smirked, pressing down so hard it made Jisung yelp, the action just barely bordering on painful.
“Last time I checked, good babies take what they get, right Solar?” Solar nodded, leaning in to whisper in Jisung’s ear.
“You’re lucky she sees you as weak, otherwise your ass would be spanked raw for that.”
Jisung moaned at the mere thought of being bent over Moonbyul's knee, and a small part of him almost wanted to act out so that could happen. But his rational side won, and he continued to lay pliant for the two girls as Moonbyul slowly unzipped his pants.
“Is this ok?” She asked, checking in for what felt like the tenth time. Jisung nodded, quickly explaining he would say ‘red’ if it ever wasn’t. Satisfied with that answer, Moonbyul pulled his pants down all the way, licking her lips as the bulge in his boxers became more prominent.
“Solar darling, how about you suck Sungie off since he’s been so good for us?”
Solar grinned eagerly, nuzzling Jisung’s neck and kissing the skin softly. “Marks or no?” She asked. On one hand, Jisung knew his stylist would kill him, but on the other, he shivered at the idea of going back to his members, flaunting evidence of his interaction. So after whispering a hurried “yes,” lips were attacking his neck, sucking and biting and littering it with marks.
There was a shuffling sound as Solar moved between his legs, planting a kiss on his clothed dick and making Jisung gasp. Her hands traveled up, tweaking his nipples experimentally, which caused him to moan much too loudly. Within seconds, Moonbyul's hand was clamped over his mouth, her eyes sharp and commanding.
"If you're gonna be so loud, we might have to put that mouth to good use." Jisung nodded frantically, wanting that, craving that, but before he could ask his boxers were pulled down, and in one swift motion, soft lips connected with the head of his aching cock. Solar's tongue lightly traced the underside of his length, teasing as she took just the tip in her mouth before pulling off and repeating the process. After a full minute of this, Jisung whined, looking over at Moonbyul with pleading eyes.
"Mommy, please make her go faster." Moonbyul nodded and did exactly that, grabbing Solar's hair and shoving her down his twitching length without a second of warning. Solar moaned, the vibrations causing Jisung to buck his hips up, thoughts of anything but how good his noona's mouth was feeling fuzzy and far away.
"Aww, you should see your face baby, practically drooling as Solar chokes on your cock," Moonbyul teased, tapping his cheek lightly as a signal to open up. Mouth falling open, Jisung hummed in content as she slipped two fingers in, his tongue lapping and sucking at the digits to keep quiet. This wasn't what he meant when he wanted them to use his mouth, but he certainly wasn't complaining.
"How about you be polite and look at Solar while she's gobbling you up, hm?"
Jisung's eyes fluttered as he gazed down at the girl, her face twisted in a combination of pain from the hair-pulling, pleasure from having a dick in her mouth, and pure concentration. Her tongue felt like heaven, rough and firm against the veins of his cock, her pace ruthless as Moonbyul sank her head down over and over again relentlessly. So much pleasure, yet Jisung forbid himself from cumming just yet. If he finished so early, he'd never let himself live it down. "Cl-close, noona's mouth feels so good, 'm close Mommy," he moaned around the fingers in his mouth, and Moonbyul nodded in understanding, pulling Solar away and quickly spinning her around so her back was to Jisung. He whined at the loss of stimulation, but quickly shut up as he felt Solar's slick folds against his thigh, grinding in a way he wasn't even sure she realized.
"Solar's gonna ride you, is that ok darling?" Moonbyul asked, a smirk tugging at her features as Jisung mumbled a shocked "yes, please". Solar, the Solar, bouncing on his cock? Why the hell would he not be ok with that?
But Solar had other ideas.
“But Byulie, you haven’t gotten any sort of pleasure yet,” She pouted, turning to her girlfriend. Moonbyul scoffed, unimpressed by Solar’s display of fake concern. She knew the oldest just wanted to rile her up, and she refused to give her the satisfaction of it working. “Can’t Sungie or I eat you out? So we can see your face all twisted in pleasure and pretty for us?” Solar continued, sending the most intense puppy-dog eyes in her direction. Moonbyul couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“Jisungie is the good boy here, let’s see what he wants. After all, he’s the one actually doing as he’s told instead of behaving like a needy little slut.” Solar’s hips twitched at that, her slick panties rubbing along his thigh as she let out a quiet moan. Moonbyul laughed, grabbing her hair and yanking the poor girl’s head up to meet her gaze.
“Fucking slut, grinding on our guest’s leg like a bitch in heat. You act all tough and mighty, but you just wanna be a good girl at heart, don’t you?” Solar mumbled something, hips rocking even faster. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your pathetic moans.”
“Y-Yes Mommy…” Solar whimpered, and Moonbyul’s eyes flashed the darkest shade yet.
“That’s my good little whore.”
It took so readjusting, but within seconds Jisung found himself laying on the ground, Solar’s discarded shirt bunched up underneath his head as a makeshift pillow. His dick was thoroughly aching at this point, having been denied an orgasm and just watched the two girl’s interaction taking place in front of him. Jisung loved the way Moonbyul could make even Solar, who had been nothing but cocky and sly this whole time, turn into a whiny sub just like himself. The power she held made him yearn to be touched again, and his wish was luckily about to be granted.
After checking in one final time to make sure everything was ok, Solar began to sink down on his cock, warm walls enveloping him deliciously. Jisung gasped in surprise, expecting them to prep her, yet she seemed unbothered by the stretch. Curious, he looked up at her with glossy eyes.
“F-fuck, noona, h-how are you taking me already?”
Solar let out a breathless laugh, pussy convulsing around his length as he filled her to the hilt. “Byul- I mean M-Mommy fingered me this morning before the show.”
Jisung whipped his head around to look at Moonbyul in shock, and the girl chuckled at his cute reaction and shrugged. “She was feeling nervous, so I helped her relax.” Jisung couldn’t help but moan at the mental image of Moonbyul stretching Solar open with those beautiful hands that were currently rubbing his head soothingly. Moonbyul raised her eyebrow in response. “Do you like that, baby? Do you like imagining my fingers plunging in and out of your noona’s dripping pussy?” He nodded aggressively, bucking his hips up into Solar, who whined. Wanting to be good so she could cum, Solar had opted to wait for permission to start moving, which was driving both of them insane.
Having noticed this, Moonbyul laughed, the sound mocking and making the subs whimper even louder. “My pretty babies can’t think of anything but how badly they want to fuck, hm? Well go ahead, Solar, be a good girl and show him a good time.” Solar nodded feverishly, raising herself up and making them both moan at the friction before dropping down so fast it made Jisung see stars. Sure he had had sex before, but it had never been this wet, this hot, this intense. His mind was reeling, trying to process all the pleasure as Solar continued to ride his cock, her beautiful boobs bouncing with each thrust, her pants echoing in the small room. Tears formed in his eyes, overwhelmed with emotions of pure lust, admiration, and gratitude at just how fucking lucky he was to get to see this. And it was only going to get better from here.
There was the sound of a zipper and clothes being discarded before Moonbyul was standing above him, bottom half exposed and dripping. “You know, I think Solar was right, I deserve to get in on the fun too.” Knowing exactly what she wanted, Jisung stuck his tongue out, face awaiting to be used for the girl’s pleasure. Her hips were lowered and soon her heat was set on his mouth, Jisung eagerly lapping at the folds as if his life depended on it.
“Sh-shit, you really do have a rapper’s tongue, huh baby?” Moonbyul chuckled, and Jisung swelled with pride as he slipped his tongue into her slick hole. The girl’s deep moan resonated around the room, and he heard Solar whimper in response before there was a wet sound of mouths meeting. Jisung groaned at the idea of them making out above him, acting as though he was just their little toy to play with and receive pleasure from. He was being used on both ends and absolutely could not get enough of it, stomach coiling from the soon-approaching orgasm that was bound to be simply mind-blowing.
It didn’t take long for Solar to pull away from Moonbyul’s mouth to gasp out a “Fuck, close, he’s hitting- fucking hell he’s hitting my spot so well,” and Jisung moaned in response, the vibrations going straight to Moonbyul’s pussy buried on his face.
“Y-You can come any time, baby, just warn Jisung so he can prepare for when you start squeezing.” Solar moaned out an affirmative before gasping, grinding her clit down against his pelvic bone and practically screaming as his dick hit the deepest parts of her, the combination making her orgasm slam into her like a freight train. Jisung tried his best to fuck her through it, but it was becoming and harder and harder to hold back his own release as her pussy spasmed around him. Once Solar’s eyes became glossed over and droopy, he whined, begging for it to be his turn.
Moonbyul agreed, ordering Solar to get off him and let Jisung use her mouth, which Solar was too fucked out to respond to. She simply slid off his dick, whining at the slight overstimulation, and sank between his thighs, taking the angry red-looking cock in her mouth in one go. It took only seconds for Jisung to cum, so pent up and desperate that he only needed the warmth of her cheeks to send him over the edge. His moans were muffled by Moonbyul above him, and he was met with even more as the vibrations ravaged her swollen clit. Soon, she was cumming too, legs squeezing around his face and head thrown back as the deep throngs of pleasure washed over them both. Panting, she fell backward onto the ground, chest rising and falling at rapid speed.
Jisung looked like a filthy angel, legs spread wide open, dick still twitching in post-orgasm bliss, cheeks red and shining with Moonbyul’s slick. The three of them simply sat there for a bit, catching their breath, before Moonbyul stood up to put her clothes back on and slip out of the room.
“Where’s she going?” Jisung asked, voice croaky from all the moaning.
Solar laughed tiredly. “To go get stuff for aftercare silly, we can’t just send you back out there like this.” Jisung nodded, waiting patiently until Moonbyul returned, arms full of water bottles, concealer, and some cool towels.
“There you go babies,” she smiled, placing the towels around the back of their necks and handing Solar some water. Jisung sat up slowly, sipping the cold liquid as Moonbyul held it to his lips, stroking his hair lovingly. “You did so good darling, so good for your noonas.” Jisung grinned, eyes crinkling shut as he basked in the attention, just happy that they had all enjoyed themselves. It took a few more minutes and praises before he was fully back from his subdpace, reluctantly dragging his clothes back on and letting Solar pat concealer over his parks and hickeys. Finally, he sighed, looking over at the door sadly.
“I should, uh, go now,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“We know darling, but not before I get your number,” Moonbyul winked, planting a kiss on his cheek affectionately. Solar then did the same, and they exchanged numbers. Jisung was about to exit the room when Solar grabbed his hand to stop him.
“I just want you to know that I really enjoy your group’s songs. I didn’t say that before because I was scared you were a crazy fan, but you guys are going places, Sungie.” She smiled sweetly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before Jisung blushed, thanking her, and with one final look, he waved goodbye cutey, slipping out the door and down the hall with a springy pep in his step.
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As soon as he got back to his dressing room, Chan was on his case in a heartbeat. “What the fuck, dude, did you get lost on the way there?” Everyone looked up from their phones and within seconds were swarming him, asking questions about what they were like, what they talked about, if they had heard of them. Jisung smiled shyly, repeating what Solar had said before he left, and they all beamed at the sweet message.
It was Jeongin, of course, who ruined the moment.
“Hey Jisung-hyung, what’s that on your neck?” He asked, poking at one of the hickeys Moonbyul had left behind. His face immediately flushed, frantically trying to stammer out an excuse, but in the end it was painfully obvious.
“So that’s why you took so long, Jesus Christ…” Chan groaned, shaking his head. Jeongin and Hyunjin whined something along the lines of “lucky” as Changbin and Minho burst into a fit of laughter. Seungmin, on the other hand, simply gave him a look of disapproval.
“This is why we can’t take you anywhere hyung, your dick thinks too much for you.”
And although Jisung wanted to smack him, he couldn’t help but think he was probably right.
173 notes · View notes
illfoandillfie · 3 years
Text
Out of Context
Request: First of all, congratulations on 1,000!!!! Could you do a a sequel to Interloper where maybe an interviewer is giving her shit for having once been a groupie and Bri Rog and Deaky defend her and have amazing sex after at like their hotel 😂-foursome anon (I’m back)
Interloper / Snapshots From Before (Prequel)
Pairing: Roger Taylor x Brian May x John Deacon x Fem!Reader
Warnings: SMUT (18+), gangbang/foursome, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, tit fucking, light choking, slightly dom reader, cheer up sex, some spanking, double and triple penetration
Words: 6,145
A/N: This was another request from back at my 1000 follower celebration last year. It’s been sitting half written in my drafts since then and I finally felt inspired to finish it lmao. Foursome anon I hope you’re still around and you see this!!
Blurb Advent: Day 10
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Taglist:  @vee-ndetta​ @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​​​ @deakyclicks​​​ @jennyggggrrr​​​ @drowseoftaylor​​​ @hannafuckingsucks​​​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​​ @queenmylovely​​​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​​​ @borhapbois​​​ @stardust-galaxies​
Doing press wasn’t easy, especially when interviewers insisted on questioning you all separately. You preferred having at least one of the boys to back you up. They’d been dealing with the whole interview process for so long now they knew how to avoid answering things they didn’t want to, knew how to deal with rude reporters. But it was all new to you. Perhaps that was why this particular interview had gone so badly. There was no Freddie to make the right snide comment, no Roger to get pissed off on your behalf, no Brian or John to squeeze your knee comfortingly or take over when you go tongue tied.
Things between you and the rest of the band had been going much better since Freddie had locked you in that room together. It didn’t happen overnight, there were still lingering tensions. But any badmouthing they did of you was out of your hearing which you much preferred. Gradually, as the tour wore on, there were less tensions. They got used to having you around, began including you in their games of scrabble and their not-quite-awake conversations over hotel breakfasts. Until one day, in the final leg of the tour, when Freddie admitted to you quietly that he hadn’t overheard any whispered comments for nearly a week. “And here I was thinking we’d never get there.” “Oh hush, darling, I told you from the beginning they wouldn’t hate you forever. Sure they took a little longer to come around than I had anticipated but it all worked out in the end. And now when you tell them the execs have asked for another full album featuring you, they probably won’t kill you.” They hadn’t, of course, though you’d worried for the safety of everyone involved in making the decision. Roger looked as if he were a second away from punching the first person to talk to him.
They took less time to calm down though, especially after they saw how nervous you got before the first interview. Your agent had decided some preliminary press would help build excitement for the album before the songs were even written. Calls were made, journalists were found, and before you knew it you were facing a crowd of people vying to ask you their questions, cameras flashing the whole time. It was a lot. More than pushing you into the deep end, you’d be thrown to the bloody sharks. Any lingering ill will the boys had for you vanished after that. They’d all thankfully been there too, had drawn the attention to themselves rather than let you struggle to answer everything on your own. After that they’d kept an eye on you during the smaller interviews. Mostly the reporters were happy to talk to you all together and, as long as you said one or two things about how excited you were to be working with Queen again, and how much fun touring with them was, you could get away with letting them take lead. But every now and then you got stuck with some jackass who wanted to quiz you solo. And this interview, this horrid interview, had been one of them.
Roger pushed the magazine away from himself, letting it slide as far down your kitchen table as it would go. “She’s a fucking bitch that reporter.” You looked down at the magazine, still open to your interview, the headline alone making your stomach turn. “No, sorry, that’s an insult to dogs. She’s a fucking cunt.” “Rog,” “No, that’s an insult to vaginas. There is no word strong enough for that poor excuse for a journalist.” “Roger, sit down.” Roger shot Freddie a dirty look but sat down anyway, his knee bouncing with restless energy, “Sorry. I’m just pissed off.” “Yes, we gathered that, thanks Rog,” “She took everything I said out of context, you have to believe me.” “We do, Y/N, we do,” John said softly from beside you, rubbing circles on your back. “It started well, I swear. Just the usual questions y’know, what’s it like working with Queen? How does it feel to be singing next to Freddie Mercury? Were you nervous about touring with them? Can you give us any hints about the new album? All the things that usually come up that Freddie coached me on how to answer, and I was doing fine. I had my prepared answers and there was no stumbling over words or anything like that. I thought I’d finally got the hang of it all and then she asked me to elaborate on what it was like working with you. I’d already told her the usual thing – it was fun and y’know blew my mind and all that. But then she asked how it compare to being your groupie.” “You didn’t answer her did you?” “Christ no, Brian! Jesus what do you take me for?” Brian held his hands up in apology. “I told her that it wasn’t relevant, but she kept asking, one question after another thrown at me and no matter what I said she didn’t stop. All sorts of stuff, like which of you was the best shag, and if I’d only wanted to be your groupie because I hoped it would lead to my own album, and if I was still offering my services,” you made air quotes around the words, “accused me of using you for my own gain and asked if you were the first band I’d tried it with or if you were just the only ones gullible enough to let me. I tried to tell her no and that I wasn’t going to answer those questions but she just kept going and then she told me to get used to the attention and left. I guess she didn’t need my answers to write a whole article about it.” “Which of us is the best shag?” Brian repeated the question though you suspected he wasn’t just checking he’d heard you correctly. The others all fell quiet, waiting to see if you’d answer. “Really Bri? That’s what you got from that?” “Right, right, sorry, not the important part. Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is.” “Bri’s right, love,” Roger said, much calmer than he had been before, “there’s nothing of substance in here. Like this quote, as for the fun Ms Y/L/N mentioned was had on tour, one can’t help but wonder just what she meant. Could the stories about nights spent playing boardgames be covers for debauched, drug-fuelled, orgies the likes of which would make a pornstar blush, I mean, there’s nothing there. It’s all conjecture and anyone worth a damn will see right through it.” “But some people will believe it,” “Maybe, yes,” Freddie said, “but it’ll blow over. We’ve all been in the same place you are at one time or another. If anything this officially makes you one of the band.” “Yeah, Y/N, it’s all just spiteful rubbish.” “Thanks guys, but I think I might just call it a day, go back to bed. Stay if you want, I don’t mind. But if you leave lock the door behind you.” You stood and headed to your bedroom.
The four boys stayed quiet until you were out of your room but you heard their hushed voices and hissed comments through your bedroom door as you pulled off your jeans and unclasped your bra from under the baggy jumper you wore. It took about five minutes before there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N, can I come in?” You contemplated feigning sleep. “I know you’re not asleep.” You sighed and sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, “Fine, Roger, come in.” “Freddie’s gone to make some calls,” he said, standing just inside your doorway, hands in his pockets. “Calls about what? It’s out there now, there’s no getting it back.” “No but we need to make it clear to other journalists that those kinds of questions won’t be answered in any future interviews, and hopefully we can make sure that parasite never gets to come anywhere near us again.” “Isn’t that mean to parasites?” Roger chuckled, “getting over it already, see,” he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your covered knee, “I know this sucks, and I get that you’re ashamed, but I promise it’s not as bad as it feels right now.” “I’m not ashamed.” “What?” “You said I’m ashamed of it but I’m not.” “Oh. I thought-” “I’m a bit embarrassed because obviously I’ve never told my family what it is I got up to when I went to all those concerts and now they’re all going to know, lord knows some of them will believe the worst of it. And I’m pissed off that I didn’t stand up for myself more. I just let her keep cutting me off and talking over me when I should have told her to fuck off or at least called her out for being a prudish arsehole who probably only attacked me because she’s jealous I’ve fucked three quarters of Queen. And I’m annoyed that you’ve all been brought up in the article, and she’s questioning whether your good people just because you sept with me. I mean does she expect you all to be virginal saints or something? It’s just frustrating and yes, upsetting. But I’m definitely not ashamed.” “Huh, okay then.” “What?” “Nothing, just, we assumed you regretted sleeping with us.” “Lord no. It wasn’t planned, like she was insinuating, but seeping with you definitely helped me get my foot in the door with this whole music thing. And even if it hadn’t done that, it was still fun as hell and made me feel good. If I wasn’t fucking you I would have been out having mediocre sex with guys I met in pubs and I don’t care how much of a slut it makes me seem, but I’d rather fuck a whole band every single night and actually get off than have a disappointing drunk lay with a guy who’s never heard of the clitoris. Fuck, I’d still be doing the whole groupie thing now, and be perfectly happy with it, if Freddie hadn’t heard me singing that day. That night at the after party, that was heaps of fun.” “Give me a second would you,” Roger stood and walked to the door, giving you another glance before he turned the corner. You watched the doorway, not quite sure what to make of his behaviour but your questions were answered soon enough when he reappeared with Brian and John following. “So apparently we misread the situation,” Brian said, taking the seat Roger had just vacated. John sat cross legged at the end of your bed while Roger flopped onto the mattress beside you. “I can’t believe you’d think I regretted being your groupie. Have you met me?” “In our defence you seemed very upset, what were we meant to think?” “I had a shitty interview and got called a whore in a very public way, of course I’m upset. Doesn’t mean I regret anything.” “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, we should have realised. But we have a proposition for you. We actually thought of a way to cheer you up when we first saw the magazine this morning but then when we got here you seemed so sad and we didn’t want to make you more upset or uncomfortable,” “What Brian is trying to say is that we have an idea we think you might like.” “Jesus will you two stop beating around the bush?” “Shut up Rog, I’m getting there.” “Y/N,” Roger said cutting off the others before they could waffle any longer, “Would you like to fuck us again?” You almost choked. “Zero tact. What he means is, we thought we could cheer you up. All three of us, entirely focused on making you forget that magazine.” “Wait, I’m confused,” you massaged the bridge of your nose as you tried to catch up to them, “you saw an article that called me a whore and thought it would cheer me up to, what, be your shared fucktoy again? Yeah it was fun but-” “No, no, no, that’s not what we mean,” John said, “you’d be in control of how it all happens. It wouldn’t be like last time.” “So, you’d be my whores?” “I guess?” “The point is,” Roger chimed in, “we want to make you feel better. If that means making you cups of tea and buying you a box of chocolates that’s fine. But it could also mean you having three cocks and all the orgasms you can handle.” You looked from Roger to John to Brian and then back again, trying to work out if they were joking or not. But they all seemed sincere enough for you to actually think about their proposition. It wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from them, and it hadn’t crossed your mind until they mentioned it. But now that they had, you had to admit it sounded fun. Last time had been fun and that was when you’d been passed around and used mercilessly, so having them all again, but with a bit more say in how it happened, could only be better. Plus, part of you wanted to prove how unashamed of your groupie history you were and what better way than this? “Okay, I’m in.”
“Do we need to set any ground rules?” Brian asked. “You all know my safeword,” “Saxophone,” You laughed at the chorus of eager voices, “Yes, exactly. Other than that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Not like this is new exactly, is it?” “Well, no, I s’pose not.” “Exactly. And if there’s anything I don’t want I’ll tell you. So you’re,” you pointed at Roger, “going to kiss me now, while you two undress,” “Getting right to it, excellent,” Roger laughed, as he pushed himself closer to you. He didn’t waste any time, leaning in to kiss you right away. It started off a little too soft for your liking but as soon as soon as you made it clear how into it you were, kissing him back harder and pressing yourself closer, Roger reciprocated. His hands wandered down to your chest as you felt Brian and John get up, following your orders, their clothes left where they landed on the floor. Roger’s hands were soon replaced by Brian’s as he knelt behind you, and you found your head being pulled around so he could kiss you too. Roger took the opportunity to undress as Brian and John caught you between them. You couldn’t tell who was removing your clothes, only that once your jumper had been pulled over your head John was kissing you. He leaned back, tugging you along so Brian could pull your underwear off, his hands caressing your bare bum. “How do you want us?” John asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Um,” you looked around at the three very naked bandmates waiting for your word, “One of you is going to eat me out. Don’t care who but I am going to cum.” “Yes Ma’am,” John laughed, lazily saluting you before rolling you onto your back and shuffling down between your thighs. You were taken by surprise when you felt his tongue run between your lips, expecting nips on your thighs and the teasing puff of his breath as he hovered just out of your reach. But he was clearly taking the job of cheering you up seriously. Brian and Roger weren’t any different, settling into the spaces on either side of you, their light touches only enhancing the feeling John had set off. You felt their fingertips on your breasts and in the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine but not enough to make you gasp in pain. “So what would you like from us, love? What dirty little fantasies are going through your head right now?” Roger tapped his finger on the middle of your forehead. You opened your mouth but a small oh as John latched onto your clit replaced the words you’d been intending to say. “Think we’re going to need a little more than that, Y/N. C’mon, tell us what you want. Do you want us to just take turns fucking you, filling you up over and over and over.” “Or are you thinking more along the lines of last time? Taking two at a time because one cock isn’t quite enough for you now?” “Try three,” you managed to get out as you slid a hand into John’s hair to hold him in place, “want you all at once.” “Jesus,” Brian swore, dropping his lips to your neck. “I’ve been a piss-poor groupie considering the stories that reporter’s peddling. Everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking all three of you at once constantly, but we’ve never actually done that, have we? Might as well embrace my slut title and change that,” “Let us work up to it, Love” Roger said softly, recapturing your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You whined, partly from Roger and Brian’s attention and partly because John raised his head, your hips rising slightly at the loss. “Guess I should start stretching you out then,” he said offhandedly as he licked his fingers, the same way you’d seen him do a hundred times before while playing. You couldn’t stop the moan that rose up in your throat, the sound only making John chuckle against you as he lowered his head and resumed his focus on your clit.
It only took a few more minutes to have you swearing through your first orgasm. The two fingers John had inside you enough to send you over the edge as they brushed against every sensitive spot they could reach. Your neck tingled where Brian had marked it and your nipples were stiff peaks, extra sensitive to cool air after he and Roger had delighted in torturing them with teeth and tongue and fingertips. “How was that?” John asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers when he was satisfied you’d finished. “Fuck,” was all you could say, the three boys laughing, John dropping a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Think you can handle more?” “Actually Bri I think I might be done,” “Oh. Really?” “I’m kidding.” “Thank Christ. I’m so fucking hard there’s no way I could get my pants back on anyway.” You laughed and pushed yourself to sit up, “Poor thing. I suppose you can use my cunt for a bit.” “Classic guitarists always getting first go,” “Shut it drum boy, I was about to offer to blow you but if you’re going to be like that,” “No, no, I didn’t say anything.” “He did Y/N, I heard him, blow me instead,” “Ignore Deaks, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” “Like a couple of – oh!” you were cut off as Brian grabbed you round the middle and wrenched you onto your hands and knees, “children. A little warning next time please,” “Sorry,” Brian leaned forward to kiss your back as his fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, “but if I didn’t move this along we’d be stuck arguing about who gets to blow who forever.” “N-no we wouldn’t,” you stumbled over your words as Brian’s long, talented fingers pressed into you, “I made up my mind, Rog in my throat.” “What about me?” “Don’t worry Deaks, you’ll get your turn. If you want you can spank me though, or bite me or pull my hair or whatever else you can think of. You know my limits. Also we’ll need lube so if you want to go digging through my bathroom draws and find some you can. Might be a reward in it if you do.” “Spankher, please,” Brian nearly whined, “always makes her cunt so tight.” “Think I’d rather claim that reward thanks” “Alright then I’ll spank her,” “Guys! Can you stop arguing. I have holes enough for all of you, that’s kind of the point of this. And, Brian and Roger, if I don’t get both of your cocks deep, deep inside me within the next thirty seconds I will kick you both out and let John have his way with me on repeat.” A moment of silence accompanied your statement. You saw Roger, eyes wide, look over at John and then to Brian, and could only assume they were returning his dumbfounded look. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Roger blinked as if waking from a daydream and hurried to kneel in front of you, one hand gliding over the length of his cock as the other reached for your hair. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as Brian suddenly filled you, holding your hips tight as he bottomed out, which gave Roger enough opportunity to push himself towards the back of your throat. There was a shift in the mattress as John got up but you were a little too preoccupied to hear the door open and shut or the sound of him rummaging through your bathroom. You only realised he’d returned when a sudden, loud spank hit you and you knew Brian’s hands were still occupied with your hips. For their parts, Roger and Brian were keeping you busy, skewered between them, not sure whether the noises coming from your own throat were moans or gags or wordless begging. Brian breathlessly laughed as John spanked you again, “So fucking tight. Bit harder?” “Y/N?” You made an assenting humming noise and nodded as much as Roger’s cock would allow which John rightly took as permission and so hit you again, harder than the last.
It was an intoxicating feeling, taking two cocks at once, all the while wanting more and knowing you’d have it before long. Brian fucked you hard and precise, as if his goal was to split you open from the inside out. Had it just been him and you alone you would have found yourself creeping further up the bed. It had happened a few times before, leaving you either hanging off the edge of the bed, or with your hands over your head and pressed against a wall in an effort to keep from banging your head. But all he managed to do was push you further onto Roger’s cock, making you gag and choke more often. Roger didn’t seem to mind that though, giving as good as Brian, firmly gripping your hair so that you couldn’t even attempt to move off him. The added impact from John’s hand just made you shiver and moan. He was the one who sensed you were getting close though, reaching under you to rub your clit and give you the extra push you needed to get over the edge. Brian wasn’t too far behind you, groaning as he tried to keep fucking you, his hips faltering as he twitched inside you and spilled his seed. You felt his hands on your backside as he spread your cheeks, leaning down to spit on your arsehole before he pulled out of you. Once Brian was finished with you, you tapped Roger’s thigh and he pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “Brilliant, just thought that since I can move a bit easier, I’d take over. You look like you were close.” “Fucking yes I was close,” You giggled as you readjusted your position to be more comfortable, once again taking Roger’s cock between your lips. This time you pushed yourself lower, taking him deeper, making Roger swear above you. You pulled back again, hollowing your cheeks until you sank down once more. A strangled moan seemed to catch in Roger’s throat and it spurred you on. You reached out to cups his balls, massaging them in your hand as you took him as deep as you could and hummed. The hum turned into something akin to a squeal (though slightly muffled and choked off at the end) as the sticky cool of John’s lube covered finger teased your arsehole, tracing circles around it before slowly sinking into you. The sight seemed to be enough to finish Roger off, one hand on the back of your head to steady himself as he shot his load down your throat, pulling out towards the end so the last of it dribbled down your chin. “Now me?” John asked, pushing a second finger in with the first as Roger let you go. “Stretch me out a little more and then yes,” “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that yet. I want your tits.” “What?” “Your tits, Y/N. Turn around,” His fingers left you and you were free to move, shuffling on your knees to face him. John pressed down on your shoulder pushing you to sit back on your knees and adjusting your angle so he could slide his lubed up shaft between your breasts. He pushed them together with his palms and slid them up and down his dick as he rutted against you, spreading the sticky lube over your chest. With a slight smile at John, you  dipped your head a little and kissed the tip of his cock as it moved towards your lips. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this,” he groaned, “gon-na make a mmm-ess all over you.” He gave up on speech as he neared his released, communicating exclusively in grunts and increased speed until he finished, covering your chest and sternum in ropes of cum that dripped down your skin.
You laughed as John fell back. The hardest you could remember laughing in a while. “What’s so funny?” Brian asked, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Just thought what that reporter would say if she could see me now, naked and dripping in spunk,” you managed to get out between giggles, “her face would be fucking priceless.” The boys laughed along with you, glad you could see the funny side of the situation with the article. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?” “Yes Rog, but I’m still not done with you.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well,” you crawled over to where Roger was sitting, leant back on his hands, and placed your hand on his throat, tilting his face away from you a little so you could lick a long stripe from his jaw to his temple, “I meant it when I said I wanted all of you.” “Never doubted it, love,” he sounded a little breathless. “Just let me know when you’re all ready to go again. Not you Rog, I can see you’re ready.” “I’m good too Y/N,” “Yeah, same,” “In that case,” you shifted your position, lining yourself up with Roger and sinking down on him, squeezing his throat a little harder as you adjusted. “John, you still got that lube?” “Yes, uh, yeah here,” there was the sound of a cap flipping open and you leaned forward encouraging Roger to lay back so you could give John better access. “Hey, Rog, can you spread your legs a little wider,” “S’pose so, just don’t kneel on my bollocks or anything,” “God give me a second, the thought of that just made mine try and jump up inside me,” You giggled as John shuffled closer, using his fingers to spread some more of the lube over you and to keep stretching you out. “What about me, Y/N?” “I haven’t forgotten you Bri. I want every inch of your cock shoved so far down my throat I can feel you for a week. Just let me get used to the others first, yeah? Still feels kinda odd having two of you at once since we’ve not done it much.” Brian nodded, contenting himself with running his fingers through your hair as he waited. John, having pulled his fingers from you and slicked up his dick with more lube, sank into you slowly, his hand on your back to keep you bent forward. It suddenly felt hard for you to pull in a new breath as you tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them, especially when John gave an experimental thrust, fucking you slowly to make sure it felt okay for everyone. Brian talked softly, reminding you to breathe and telling you how well you were doing, until you were better in control of your lungs and ready for more. “Are you sure you want me as well?” “Yes. Lets show that parasite just how far I’ll go, huh?” Roger laughed, “that’s the spirit.”
Brian didn’t need more convincing than that, though it did take a little trial and error to find the best way to accommodate all three of them. Brian tried perching his arse on the headboard but Roger whinged about “seeing nothing but Bri’s ballsack flopping about. And I know you see things when you’re gangbanging but that is too much.” In the end Brian stood next to the bed by Roger’s head, enough to the side that Roger’s view wasn’t impeded but still close enough so that the angle wouldn’t strain your neck. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail as he pulled your mouth onto his cock, letting you work yourself further down his shaft as slowly as you needed, checking in with you every now and again to make sure you could take more. The other two were mostly still as you adjusted to Brian, though once or twice they’d given a small thrust or shifted slightly and made you whine. Once you had Brian buried as deep in your throat as he could go you paused for a few seconds and then pulled back again, strings of saliva breaking on your lips. “How was that?” “Good,” you gasped, “New. Kinda weird but very fucking good.” That didn’t really explain anything but you weren’t sure how to describe the nearly overwhelming fullness, the sudden heat, the tension in your belly which you couldn’t pinpoint as either anticipation or nerves or just because you were stretched open on three cocks. “And that’s without us doing anything,” “I know,” you grinned, “I’m excited. Why didn’t we try this sooner? But now you guys can cut loose. I’m not sure I’ll be much use in like riding you properly or whatever. Just don’t know my brain can focus on keeping both of you in my holes while I’m thinking about blowing Bri well. So, just fuck me however you can and we’ll see how it goes.” “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good,” John said, rubbing your back softly. “Yeah, course we will, love. And if ends up being shit then we can just take turns instead,” You nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward to take Brian again. You controlled the pace once more, bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking on his tip, as the other two figured out their rhythm. It was a strange sensation to start. It felt clumsy and more than a little awkward, especially when John mentioned how he could feel Roger inside you. But that eased as they adjusted and worked out how best to fuck you. John held your hips as he plunged into you, each thrust harder than the last as his confidence rose and he found out what you liked most. Roger’s hands moved over your skin rather than staying in once place, palming your breasts and teasing your nipples between his fingertips before sliding down your side to grasp your waist and then back up to your breasts. You were rocked on his cock with each of John’s pounding thrusts, which only made you moan around Brian’s. You let instinct take over there, one hand stroking from his base up to meet your lips as you swallowed him deeper. His hips jolted when you whined or moaned and before long you dropped your hand away from his shaft, instead grabbing his arse to keep yourself steady. He pulled you off him again and you could feel the spit on your chin. “Forgot what a fucking incredible cocksucker you are.” Brian groaned, “But can I take over? Fuck your throat?” “Yeah, okay,” You had time for another breath and then you were pushed down again, right to the base. “There we go,” he groaned, pulling on your hair, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” Your hum was choked off and ended in a gag as Brian ground his hips into your face. That seemed to be the tipping point though. The moment all three of them forgot about awkward views or who was positioned where and became entirely consumed with fucking you deep and hard. You were glad to let them lead, grabbing you, pinching and pulling and squeezing every inch of you they could reach. And all the while spearing you on their dicks, keeping you in a cycle of mounting pleasure as they found all your most responsive spots inside and out. You felt your orgasm building again, the heat rising, getting more urgent as you got closer and closer. The sounds you made were muffled by Brian but that didn’t stop you making them, moaning with every pounding thrust. As you neared the edge Brian pulled you off his cock so they could all hear you properly, their encouragement mixing in your lust addled brain and creating a wall of noise that pushed you over the edge with a loud cry. And yet they didn’t stop. Brian waited until your orgasm was reduced to aftershocks that made you wince and whine and then cut off your air as he entered your throat again, resuming the long, deep strokes that made you gag until he came, holding you down as he emptied himself completely.
As soon as the other two didn’t have to worry about giving Brian access to your mouth they adjusted your position, John pushing on your back until you were bent over. Roger attached his lips to your throat as they simultaneously fucked into you, the change of angle pushing Roger’s cock against you in a way that had you seeing spots. You cried out again as Brian lay a slap on your arse. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John grunted as he came too, unable to hold out any longer though he didn’t withdraw from you either. His hips slowed a bit and he whined softly but he kept fucking you. “Rog,” you panted, trying to get him to finish too. “You’ve got another one in you, c’mon love,” You whined but nodded, the familiar sensation already tightening in the pit of your stomach. Again the three of them encouraged you, John wrapping his hand around your waist to find your clit, Brian reaching under you to squeeze your breast as his other hand came down on your arse again. They gave you no option but to cum, shivering between them. Finally Roger let go too, moaning into your ear as he filled you up.
It took a moment to disentangle everyone, John being careful not to go too fast and hurt you, but finally you were able to collapse together, sweaty and panting, spread out over the room. “So, cheered up now?” Brian asked from where he’d lain down on the carpet You peered over the edge of the bed at him, “Think so. Thanks for that, it was fun.” “Any time, love,” Roger chuckled from the end of the bed, patting your knee, “and I mean that.” “I’m not you groupie anymore,” “Never said you were,” “Then what?” “What Rog means,” John cut in from where he’d spread out on you window seat, “is that if you ever need cheering up or to let out some frustrations, we’re here. We’re happy to help,” “Does your help always involve a gangbang?” “Not always,” Brian laughed. “Well, a lot of the time,” Roger added with a wink. “I’ll keep it in mind,” you chuckled, “I’ll have to face my family at some point and there’s a high chance I’ll leave upset and frustrated so, we’ll see. Wonder how Freddie’s getting on with those calls.” “I’ll go give him a ring and find out,” Roger said, half groaning as he stood and stretched. He didn’t bother grabbing any of his discarded clothes before he left. “I’ll take Rog his pants,” John sighed as he got up and replaced his own underwear, exiting the room with an eyeroll, Roger’s underwear pinched between his thumb and pointer. “And I’ll...stay here?” Brian said, “unless you need anything?” “Nah, I’m going to jump in the shower. Let the other two know that’s where I am, would you?” “If you’re doing that, can I have the bed?” “Sure Bri,” you laughed, “as long as you promise to change the sheets when you wake up.”
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moonculus · 3 years
Text
terrible things ~ wilbur x reader
Tumblr media
angst
warnings: death, weapons, kissing (all non-descriptive)
pronouns: implied she/her
notes: inspired by the song, terrible things by mayday parade. i apologize in advance <3
☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾  ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ☽
that’s when i met your father, the boy of my dreams. the most beautiful man that i’d ever seen.
“mommy?”
you looked away from your coffee cup to meet your child’s bright eyes staring back at you.
“yes, honey?” you asked, smiling softly.
“what happened to my father?”
immediately, you felt your heart tighten. you had put off talking about your husband for as long as you possibly could. phil, techno, even tommy. everyone who cared for you worried about you. you had thrown yourself into caring for your child, barely even giving yourself time to feel.
“when you’re older, baby,” you tilted your head sympathetically.
the daughter clung to your leg, pouting up at you with puppy eyes. the same her father would make whenever he wanted a hug or kiss from you. you were never the disciplinarian. to be honest, neither of you were. you hoisted your daughter onto your lap, preparing yourself emotionally.
“well, since i was your age, i was convinced i would be a leader. no one could ever tell me i needed a husband, i thought boys were frivolous. while my friends would talk about crushes and cooties, i would talk about sword skills and the inner workings of our country. i never thought i’d need anyone. until i met your father…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you swung your wooden makeshift sword at a tree, grunting as it was stuck in the bark. you pulled at the handle, kicked at the stump, and eventually plopped down in the grass beside it, frustratedly.
“need some help?” a soft voice asked you.
a small boy your age crooked glasses and a yellow sweater he seemed to be quickly outgrowing.
“no. i can do it myself,” you huffed, brushing yourself off and attempting to pull the sword out again.
“my dad says it’s always best to accept help, even if you think you don’t deserve it.”
“my dad used to say if you can’t do things on your own, you shouldn’t do them at all.”
“your dad’s wrong,” the boy shrugged, leaning against the tree.
“do you mind?”
“i’m wilbur,” he grinned, sticking his hand out for you.
“i’m tired of this,” you folded your arms against your chest.
“well, tired of this. do you want to be friends?”
“my dad said friends make you weak,” you muttered, shifting from foot to foot.
“your dad’s wrong,” he repeated, smiling. “anyways. sometimes, everyone needs a knight in shining armor.”
with a swift hit to the handle in exactly the right place, the sword fell to the grass. your chest rose and fell as you glared at the weapon.
“thank you,” you mumbled.
“i’ll take a friendship as an apology.”
you rolled your eyes at him, a smile threatening to cross your face.
“fine.”
wilbur’s face lit up with a toothy smile.
“but,” you began, pointing a finger at him. “only because i owe you.”
“oh, of course,” he nodded, stifling a grin.
“y/n. my name. i’m y/n.”
“y/n,” he repeated. “i like it. i’ll see you around, y/n.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“and then what happened?”
your curious daughter that had been squirming in your lap, now settled, relaxing in your arms.
“well, a few years passed, and we became practically attached at the hip. inseparable…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i can tell by your eyes that you’re in love with me
“stay together- be safe!” phil called after the two of you, as if you would’ve gladly left the other alone.
“we will!” you chorused, already bolting away.
the once short and underdeveloped boy had grown into a lanky, somewhat scrawny teenager. stretch marks dotted his knees from an unexpected growth spurt at twelve. he had long since ditched his glasses, claiming that he was too mature for his crooked lenses. suspiciously, he had adopted the spectacles back once he had overheard a conversation between niki and yourself in which you told her you thought boys with glasses were cute.
the two of you flopped onto your backs at the same willow tree you had first met. it had become a memorial of the start of your friendship, a place you visited often.
clouds drifted through the sky, the both of you pointing out ones that looked like ducks and cats.
“d’ya ever think about your future?” wilbur asked you out of the blue.
“yeah. i’m gonna be a ruler. you can be one of my royal consorts,” you shrugged.
“what’s a consort?”
“i dunno, i heard my mom use it once. i suppose it’s like an advisor of some kind. you’re my second in command!”
“well, i’m fine being your second. as long as you don’t let it go to your head,” he nudged you, smiling.
you rolled your head to the side, meeting gazes with wil. his eyes searched your face, and for a second you were confused. you had barely even acknowledged the thought of crushes- you didn’t know what they felt like. later on, you could assume it felt a little like this.
the two of you leaned in, connecting your lips gently. neither of you had any clue what you were doing, it was both of your first kisses. as soon as it began, you pulled away. you didn’t miss the blush creeping into wilbur’s cheeks, just as he didn’t miss the smile you tried to hide behind your hand.
“i- crap. i li-“ wil stammered.
“i know.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ew, cooties!”
“you’re right, cooties. that’s why you never kiss boys,” you pointed at your daughter.
“anyways, we loved each other. we had since the day we met, just were too young to know it…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
im asking you, please. you know that i love you, will you marry me?
“gods, you look beautiful, honey,” niki cooed as she placed flowers behind your ears.
“you think so?”
“i know so! wil is going to be speechless.”
“we haven’t been out for weeks, with all of the battle preparations,” you sighed, placing your face in your hand.
“don’t remind me. there you are, perfect!” niki smiled, squeezing your shoulders gently.
“thank you so much, i owe you.”
“oh, hush. you owe me nothing,” she dismissed. “now, hurry! he’s waiting.”
there was a calm breeze as you walked to your willow tree. the air smelled floral and familiar, like it was curated just for you. you heard the soft strum of a guitar, and your steps quickened.
a grin plastered itself across your face as you saw your love, surrounded by blue petals and lanterns, plucking the strings of his instrument. it was a scene out of a movie as you took a seat in front of him. he smiled at you softly, not speaking until the melody finished.
“i love you,” he began, clasping his hands around your own. “i have loved you since i’ve known you. you are my muse, my meaning. without you, i’d perish beyond means. i promise i’ll care for you when you’re sick, when you take up half of the bed, when you insist on midnight walks- i’ll take it all.”
by now, tears of happiness were falling down your face, you practically already nodding.
“y/n y/l/n,” he started, pulling out a dark ring.
you interrupted him, throwing your arms around his neck and all but tackling him to the ground.
“will- you- marry- me-“ he laughed in between kisses. “i’ll take that as a yes.”
“yes, yes. of course it’s a yes, you idiot. i love you,” you smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“but if you lived happily ever after, where’s dad?”
again, your heart felt pained. your eyes filled with tears as you squeezed your daughter’s hand.
“sometimes, it was just never meant to be…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
please don’t be sad now, i really believe, you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.
you were married as soon as possible, only your close friends and family invited to the wedding at the willow tree. a few months later, you were expecting. once you told wilbur, he was ecstatic. your family was growing. alas, the past few weeks had been strained. wil had grown further apart from you, feeling as if he were worlds away while he laid next to you. it all became clear, all the pieces clicking once the three of you stood in the final control room.
“wil, please. you’re going to have a child- you have me! you can’t do this, think of everyone,” you pleaded as phil held your arm.
“i’m sorry, my love. truly. i wish there were another way. i will never stop loving you. never,” he smiled sadly, his fingers dancing across the button that would annihilate your entire nation.
“it was never meant to be.”
phil held you close as you sobbed, his shouts at his son drowned out by the sounds of explosions. once the dust settled, you saw your boy, the same one who had always had the brightest eyes, dull and lifeless as he stared at you.
“i love you,” he mouthed as he nodded at phil.
you didn’t quite understand what was happening, not until it happened. your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your screams as the man’s blade plunged itself into it’s target. you scrambled to your lover, his soul already left his body. you cradled him in your arms as long as you could before his father had to carry you away from him.
from that day forward, you pledged to throw everything you could into daughter- the legacy of your late husband. you swore you’d never leave her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
don’t let it get you, i can’t bare to see the same happen to you.
“he’s gone?” she breathed out, tears falling down her little face.
“yes,” you sniffled, failing to hold back your own tears. “yes, he’s gone. but he loved us very much, even if he never got to meet you.”
your daughter clung to your shirt, not fully understanding everything. you would explain to her later more in depth, when she was old enough to understand.
“you were his unfinished symphony. his little melody,” you smiled down at her.
melody would learn to understand her father through stories from you, her uncles, and her grandfather. the two of you continued to visit his final resting place- the willow tree you had buried him at. for a while, it had only reminded you of misery, memories you’d never get to relive. but, ever since melody had been born, the tree was rejuvenated. it even seemed to sway as if it were listening when you spoke.
your wilbur, his love, and your baby, melody.
your symphony.
☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾  ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ ☽
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billiewena · 3 years
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for the 100k fic celebration, here a portion of the “what if 10x05 had a sastiel agenda?” AKA lil shit sam/jealous dean destiel fic I first shared a while back! been having a lot of fun basically rewriting and expanding on the entire musical episode with new songs (and lots of cute kristen & siobhan moments because OF COURSE they’re still a couple.) it was really encouraging to see the positive response to it back then and it's been taking forever because of work/other writing but I’m so excited to have this one be the first full-length fics I ever post.
It starts with costumed teenagers locked in a tight embrace with absolutely no room for Jesus.
“What are they doing?”
Marie glances over her shoulder for only a brief second.
“Kids these days call it hugging,” she says slowly. Geez, it would’ve been less insulting for her to just outright say Wow, you’re old.
Except it’s not just any of the show’s stars hugging over there. One of them is the “Dean” who’d been mid-rehearsal when they arrived and looked more like Bieber than him with the blonde wig. And the other? Well, he would recognize that Columbo coat anywhere.
“Is that in the show?” he asks, pointing their way.
Marie quickly shakes her head at the accusation. “Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in a real life.”
He nods and lower his hand. Got it. That’s all it was. Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about—
“No, my play explores the nature of Sastiel.”
“The — wait, what?” he says, confused at once.
“Sastiel?” Marie pauses, giving him a second to figure it out. He doesn’t. “You know, the relationship between Sam and Castiel?”
Dean blinks.
“Sam and…C-Cas?”
“I know, I know. Edlund’s series never finished. I’m lucky I got these drafts. Ugh, it’s Midnight Sun all over again. But the love story is all in the subtext,” she says with confidence. “Can you believe there are people who still think Destiel is endgame? After everything that happened after the angels fell? After Gadreel? Please.”
He silently sounds out the word. Des-tiel? Wait…
“Ever since Cas came back from the dead and took on Sam’s pain, I knew. I just knew. Every one of their arcs had been parallel to each other’s from their fall from grace to the trials. And now with Dean gone, all they have…is each other.”
Marie sighs. “Besides, you can’t spell subtext without S-E-X.”
He coughs and nearly chokes on an asteroid-sized lump in his throat.
“I…uh. Yeah, th-that’s not…you know, I think I’ve seen enough,” Dean says with a forced smile. “Thank you for your, ah, time. I’ll, uh, we’ll follow up if we have questions about the missing persons case. I—alright.”
And with that he purses his lips, turns on his heel and walks away — nearly tripping over one of the stage chords as he does. Why are there are so many of them anyways? This is just some all-girls school production, not the goddamn West End.
He finds Sam in his natural nerd habitat (the tech booth) sifting through all the bins of A/V supplies.
“Yeah, not to interrupt the blast from the past here but it’s time for us to go,” he says, patting the door.
His brother shoots him an annoyed look but packs up and follows him out all the same. Not that Dean bothers to wait for him; no, he makes a beeline for the car as soon as he leaves the booth.
“Hey, what’s with the rush?” Sam calls after him as he runs to catch up with him at the school entrance.
“No rush,” he says shortly. “Just wanted to see what you found out before you got too lost in the nerd sauce over there.”
He doesn’t need to look back to know he’s on the receiving end of a Classic Sam Bitchface right now and continues to stomp his way through the parking lot.
“Well, no EMF, no hex bags. None of their props are remotely hinky. Talked to Maeve and all those extras in the auditorium.” Sam finally catches up and walks side-by-side with him now. “You have any more luck?”
“Nah. Ms. Chandler's office is just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She's probably just face down in a bar somewhere. Or a ditch. I did get to hear all about the director’s, ah, creative vision though,” Dean says, teeth gritted. “Apparently we go into space, I become a woman, and there’s even ninjas and robots!”
“Robots. Huh. Well, that’d definitely be a new one.”
“There’s no robots in Supernatural—”
“I-I know that,” Sam says in exasperation. “I just mean it’s, y’know, innovative. And Dean we’ve fought weirder. Remember the teddy bear? The fairies? The ballet shoes?”
“Well, you just wait until you hear about what she in store for you, Lover Boy,” he says.
And that makes Sam do an instant double-take.
“Uh, Lover Boy?”
“Yeah, your number one fan back there —” he says, gesturing back towards the school, “— was telling me all about the play’s, uh, love story between you and Cas. You got something you’ve been meaning to tell me or what?”
“The love story? Wait, what do you mean me and Cas?”
Dean scoffs, already in utter disbelief of the words he was about to say. “Like you and Cas, together. Together together? Romance of the ages the way she made it sound. Apparently it’s all in her play!”
To his surprise though, Sam just… laughs. “Well, I mean hey, that’s an improvement from the ones who wrote about me and you.”
“You got that right,” he agrees with a shudder. Meeting one Becky the Stalker was bad enough. Knowing she wasn’t alone and that she had an audience made it even worse. “She even had a portmanteau for you, dude. Like you’re some celebrities in a grocery store tabloid. Sass-tiel.”
“Sass-tiel?” He seems to seriously consider it but shrugs. “I don’t know. What about… Samstiel? CasSam? Cam? Mmm, maybe not that…”
Dean groans. “Really? That’s your issue with this?”
“Of course it’s not my issue,” Sam says. He stays pensive for a few more seconds until chuckling again to himself this time, as if he’s the only one in on a private joke. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Cas is great but…”
“Not your type?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. No, it’s definitely more than that and he’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding his amused expression.
Dean turns and stares him down. “What?”
“I dunno,” he says, his smirk fully visible now. “I just think it’s funny they’re pairing me up with Cas when the one with the ‘profound bond’ with him is right there.”
“Oh, haha. You’re hilarious,” Dean retorts at once.
“Hey man, I’m not the one who stayed in Purgatory for a year to find him.”
His glare takes on a murderous edge.
“Okay. You know what? You’re going to do that thing where you just shut the hell up! Forever!”
Sam holds up his hands in either what’s either a show of innocence or surrender.
“Alright, alright. Well, other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all I got nothing.”
“So…what?” Dean says. “This-this all... This whole musical thing, everything, it's... it's all a coincidence? There is no case?”
“Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no, Dean. There's no case here,” he says sincerely this time.
“Come on. This has classic Trickster vibes all over it.” He almost wants to turn around and start yelling, Come on out Gabriel you bastard!
“Trickster’s dead, man. And he wasn’t just a trickster, he was an archangel. And they’re all gone too.”
“Could be a lower-rank angel?” Dean tries. “I mean, Zachariah pulled off an entire apocalypse world. And that place where we were both corporate drones. Before you know it, this’ll get all Buffy and it’ll be me and you singin’ and dancin’—“
“Dean…I think it’s just fans. Look, as long as they’re not putting another love spell on one of us I couldn’t really care less what they’re doing,” Sam says with some bitterness, clearly not looking back at that particular memory with any fondness. “Just writing some songs? I mean, it’s innocent enough.”
“Oh yeah, so innocent,” he scoffs. “They’re singing about our dead parents, your demon blood bender, the apocalypse, all of it! This is just…it’s make-believe for them! But it’s our lives!”
Sam runs a tired hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t get it either man. I wasn’t exactly thinking about the books’ entertainment value while Chuck was describing my sex life in vivid detail—“
“Don’t remind me,” he says, holding up a hand in disgust.  
“—but I dunno. There’s obviously something about it they connected to, right? Something they related to, something that moved them, inspired them? And I guess…I mean, what’s wrong with that?”
There is so, so much wrong with that.
“I don’t know what story they’re reading and what Sam and Dean they’re ‘connecting’ to here. But it sure as hell ain’t us. I mean…they even made me blonde, dude.”
“It’s a high school play, what can you expect?” Sam laughs. “It was probably the closest wig they could find at Party City.”
Dean ignores him, muttering aloud as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.
“The hair…the singing…the robots… the love story…”
“You really were bothered by that, weren’t you?” Sam gives his brother a curious look.
“SUPERNATURAL ISN’T A ROMANCE!” Dean snaps. “Look, these girls obviously don’t know what they’re talking about—“
“I dunno, Dean,” Sam said in a clearly taunting voice now. “Maybe you’re just jealous of what me and Cas have.”
He flushes. “W-what? I-I’m not—“
“We could give you two a name too, y’know? So you don’t feel left out? What about…Dee-stiel? CasDean?”
And he refuses to entertain this conversation any longer.
“Shut your face! Get in the car!”
Thankfully Sam notices the shift in tone and obliges at once.
Dean, meanwhile, takes a moment outside the car to glance around — almost as if checking to see if anyone overheard that comment. Not that it mattered. Who could overhear? No one even knew they were THE Sam and THE Dean. Who cared? He certainly didn’t care. He didn’t care at all...
(to be continued)
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No Control
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Rating: Mature Pairing: Arno Dorian x fem!reader Word count: 3694 Genre: angst but later fluff
Inspired by Hamilton, again. Enemies to lovers, but make it fast. Might contain triggers.
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Since the day you two have met, your relationship couldn't be more complicated. He was snarky and sassy Sad Boi, you were mean and Miss Perfect. He considered you a bitch, you considered him a jerk. Both of you lived for the other's failures and were delighted to humiliate and belittle the other on every occasion. But never once these fights interfered with your assassin job, the Creed was always your priority. You could be professional enough to put your feelings aside and cooperate for the sake of your mission. As the time passed and you were spending more time together, you got to know each other and started to grow somewhat close.
You knew something really bad had happened the moment you saw Arno entering the room. Although you were discussing some matters with the council, no one informed you what happened and why exactly he was there. If that wasn't enough, you were told to leave. The council had to talk to Arno in private. You did leave, of course. But as soon as you were out of sight, you ran to the other side of the hideout and placed yourself in a perfect spot for eavesdropping. It wasn't comfortable at all, but it was nothing you couldn't bear.
Despite your cold and snarky attitude, you cared about Arno. And it was no fun seeing him get in trouble, even though you would say it was, to keep your reputation. You were also curious about what he did this time to earn such a reprimand. It took a lot to be scolded by the whole council themselves. When you learned what happened, you started to think about getting away.
“(Y/n), you are not supposed to be here” you heard master Mirabeau and you nearly fell out of your hiding place. Luckily you managed to compose yourself and you got out with grace and dignity.
“Oh, great. You must be happy now” Arno said harshly and you winced a little. You may have not been very nice towards him, but it didn't mean you enjoyed his failures.
“I am not” you said calmly.
“Excuse me, but the last thing I want now is your mockery” he turned around and started to leave.
“I do not plan to do that. I need to talk to you.” Despite him being clearly unwilling to listen, you followed him.
“Save it.”
“Arno, wait. I know how you feel.”
“No, you don't.”
“I used to be just like you: brash, reckless, inexperienced and I wanted to act, not think. I have done something terrible, everyone paid for my mistake. I thought I was meant to do great things, to prove my worth, to play a big role in history. I thought I could have the whole world at my feet. Then everything slipped out of my hands in a brief moment. After that, my father took me aside and said: "Let me tell you what I wish I’d known when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story." And I realized he was right. So now I'm telling that to you. Don't let your feelings cloud your mind.”
“I do not need your smart advices” he said dryly, but he stopped and turned around to face you. “Besides, I will never believe you have done something worse than I have.”
“I straight up murdered my friends” you deadpanned. Arno looked at you, speechless and shaken. “I know what I'm talking about.”
“H-how?”
“It was a few years ago. We were just a bunch of teenaged novices. We thought we knew everything and we could do anything, just like we thought our creed says. I was in charge of them, due to my family being a very important part of the Brotherhood. I was the best of them, as well. Apparently also the luckiest. We decided to break into the Templars' quarters and prove our worth. As you can guess, we were slaughtered due to our miscalculation and carelessness. I was the only one surviving, because I was badly injuried and they thought I died right away, so they did not finish their job. Also because someone overheard the conversation between the two Templars and told my father who came to save me personally. He found me sitting among the bodies of my friends and enemies, badly injuried and completely shocked, terrified and devastated. I still can remember how wet my robes were, or that I was slipping on my own blood while trying to get out, or that the pain of my wound was nothing compared to pain in my heart. I knew I had failed everyone. Besides me, only two girls did not die right away. I personally ended the suffering of one, due to her nasty fatal wound, they just gutted her, but she did not die and begged me to kill her. The second one died two days later, when I was fighting for my life with my wound and a fever. That day has changed me forever. That day I understood that it is so easy to die and there is nothing noble in it. It is way harder to live with consequences of my decisions. The Brotherhood lost eight apprentices that day. I lost eight of my friends and myself. I might stand here being an assassin after all, but I am just a mere shadow of the one I used to be. My wounds almost made me disabled, it's a miracle I can walk, the doctors couldn't believe it would ever happen. But I still feel the pain that reminds me of my horrible mistake and the toughest lesson of my life I had learned. I am useless at fight or free running, therefore I mastered stealth and disguise. But it's like having a hypersensitive hearing while being blind. I merely make up for what I don't have anymore. I also do my best trying to find the Piece of Eden. Not only because Brotherhood needs to keep it safe, but also because it can heal me. I know the location of one Piece, but it is safely hidden far away and it does not attract any unwanted attention. The one in Paris, however, is being searched for by both Assassins and Templars. So I decided to ignore my personal needs for the greater good and focus on looking for the one that is needed to be found, instead of getting the easy option and going for the one I have found already” you concluded, subconsciously clutching the clothes on your lower abdomen. The familiar jab was present there, as usual. The painful memory of your past and a lesson for the future. Arno was looking at you in dead silence.
“I am sorry” he said finally, his voice was soft and quiet.
“Don't be. I get what I deserve. Remember my story and learn from my mistakes. Do not repeat them. Respect life and death” you warned him.
“No, I am sorry for thinking you were just mean, grumpy and selfish” he explained. “I would not be happy myself if I had to live in constant pain and with such memories.”
“I got used to it” you shrugged. “Though I admit, I would rather have my friends alive and punished by the council instead of this.”
“I am going to help you find that Piece of Eden. You deserve to be redeemed and cured” Arno promised and you smiled a little.
“Thank you. That means a lot” you bowed your head in a gesture of appreciation.
“Good to hear you are a responsible man, monsieur (mister) Dorian. I always knew you are a lot like your father, after all” spoke Mirabeau, approaching the two of you, he looked at Arno, then at you and noticed your gesture. “You should rest, my child” he put his hand on your shoulder.
“I'm fine” you protested.
“My brother would kill me for not taking care of you” the older man reminded you.
“He should have taken care of himself, then he could be taking care of me in person instead of lying in grave” you growled angrily, then hissed when the pain in your old wound strengthened. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax, knowing that stress was making everything worse. “I apologize. You are right, I shall get some rest, uncle” you said quietly and headed to exit.
“Let me help” said Arno and followed you.
“There is no need” you answered, but grabbed his arm for support, when the jolt of pain almost made you bend over.
“Sure.”
“I'm serious, I- gah” you stopped walking, waiting for pain to ease. Arno didn't ask for the second time, he simply caught you and lifted you bridal style. As much as you hated to admit, you needed this.
“You never mentioned that you and Mirabeau are related” he spoke after a while.
“I did. I told you that my family is meaningful in Brotherhood. I just didn't mention him specifically” you said like it was nothing. Well, to you it was.
“So? Care to explain?”
“My father was his younger brother, that's the big secret” you sighed. “As you can guess, I would rather keep that information in private. I do not want anyone to think that I am somehow privileged, because I'm not.”
“Understandable.”
Arno carried you all the way to your apartment, then helped you to undress to the point you were comfortable, then carried you to bed. He was way more nice than you would expect. Maybe you judged him too soon and Bellec was just an old, grumpy man who wanted Arno to be like his father? You took his hand as he sat by your bed.
“Merci (thank you). You didn't have to do that” you said, looking at him. “Especially after all these things I have told you.”
“You are not as bad as I thought. And not as bad as you think. I guess that if I can put up with Bellec, I can be friends with you as well” he shrugged. “Unless you don't want to.”
“No, I... that would be nice. You are not that bad yourself” you chuckled softly. “But for now there is nothing else you can do, so if you have something else to do, I do not keep you.”
He didn't, so you talked for a few hours. You learned about Élise, monsieur de la Serre and all the funny stories about Arno's childhood. In exchange you told him about yours, about growing up in the Assassin Brotherhood and learning all the tenants of the Creed from the very first day of your life. That day both of you learned a lot about each other and though you hadn't known that, you started to develop feelings for the man.
Therefore after some time you knew that sooner or later you would end up in Arno's bed somehow. Of course, there was always Élise, whom he loved deeply, so you would never make the first move. But when she told him that she was willing to sacrifice everything to stop Germain and she didn't need his help, well, the problem sort of solved itself. Since Arno's banishment from the Brotherhood, you were following him discreetly from time to time to make sure he was doing fine. But suddenly he disappeared and that was very unlike him. You established that he wasn't leaving Le Café Théâtre anymore, so one day you decided to pay him a visit. The first day he was so drunk that he didn't even recognize you, but when you came back the next day, he wasn't completely drunk yet. He must have worked, after all, the Café still belonged to him and it required his attention from time to time. Therefore, he was still in a pretty good state when you came, you could actually talk to him.
“How are you doing, Arno?” you asked softly, taking your hood off and closing the window behind. You approached the desk he was sitting at.
“Go away.”
“No.”
“(Y/n)” he stood up, intending to leave. You stepped closer and hugged him, snaking your arms around his chest and waist.
“You are not alone, Arno” you whispered, holding him tightly. “No matter what you think, I will never leave you on your own.”
“I don't need your pity” he hissed, trying to push you away.
“I do not pity you. I care. I genuinely care about you.”
“Let me go. I need more wine.”
“No, you have had enough. You should go to sleep” you pulled away and started to pushing him in the right direction. “Come, let me take care of you.”
“I don't want to” he protested, but obeyed when you lead him to bed. You were gentle but firm. The man sat on the bed, accidentally pulling you closer and making you lose your balance, so you ended up straddling him. Your lips were way closer than should be.
“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, sort of curious where it would lead, while knowing very well that you shouldn't let him do what you thought he intended.
“I don't know” he answered honestly. Then he put his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently. Just to kiss you shortly after. And you knew fully well he was drunk and you shouldn't do that, but you kissed him back anyway. He pulled away shortly after. “I shouldn't.”
“I know.”
“I... Élise... I can't-”
“I know. But I am here for you anyway and no one will know.”
That was enough for him to kiss you again. It was wrong in every way, he was a traitor to your Creed, he loved another girl and she was a Templar. You knew he didn't feel about you the same way you felt about him, but you couldn't stop him. You didn’t want him to stop. Your discarded coat quickly fell to the floor with your weapons. His skilled hands quickly started to undress you further and you didn't resist. You started to take off his clothes yourself and you stopped him only the moment he wanted to get rid of your pants.
“Wait” you panted, holding his hand back.
“What's wrong?” Arno asked with concern. He might have been drunk, but not enough to not realize something wasn't right. His lips and fingers kept touching your skin.
“Remember how I told you about that wound I got as a novice?” you shivered as he decided to focus on the one of your breasts.
“Sure. This is it?” he asked and you nodded. “You got hurt there?” the man asked with disbelief, touching your sex through the thick fabric of your pants and even this gentle touch made you shiver.
“Not exactly” you helped him take off the rest of your clothes and let him see the large scar blemishing the soft skin of your stomach.
“It does look awful” he admitted, looking at the scar. “How did you even get that?”
“I was just stabbed there” you pointed a spot with your two fingers. “It was a miracle that the sword didn't even touch my vital organs. It slid right between intestines and above the bladder, one wrong move and I would die. But it cut the uterus pretty badly, amputating one of the ovaries. The doctors had to cut me open even more to even sew the wound and stop the bleeding” you traced the scar with your fingertips. “It didn't heal well, so it still causes me pain and if I ever miraculously get pregnant, it will probably kill me, because the growing baby might tear the scar apart. This is why finding a Piece of Eden is my only hope” you sighed, closing your eyes to avoid looking at the scar. But you quickly opened them again, as you felt the soft kiss on the side of the old injury.
“We are going to find it and heal your wound” Arno murmured, leaving butterfly kisses on your scar. He was getting lower and lower, and when he reached his destination, you nearly screamed. Apparently he was very skilled not only in combat or free running, but also in bed. He wasn't your first partner, but he was definitely the best.
When he finished, you couldn't calm down for a while, lying in his bed completely vulnerable. You looked at him with love and trust, both very unique to your everyday self. You were never as open and honest as you were that moment. He climbed up your body and captured your lips in a gentle yet sensual kiss. You buried your fingers in his messy hair and took off the hair tie. It was something you wanted to do for a while, you were curious how he would look like with loosened hair and you had to admit, he still looked good. It was giving him a little feral vibes, but these suited him well, especially when he had those wild glimpses in his eyes and looked at you with predatory hunger.
“Do you really want this?” you asked him, caressing his cheek.
“I do. It makes me forget the pain” he answered honestly and kissed you. “And you? Do you want this?”
“Yes” you answered and kissed him back. Upon hearing such a clear consent none of you had further doubts. Arno might have been drunk, but he was clearly making sure he was gentle enough and that you are comfortable with anything he did. And you were more than happy at his actions. You spend with him the rest of the day and when the night had come, you fell asleep in each other arms.
You woke up in the morning very suddenly, alone in the bed. At first you thought that maybe Arno had left you, but then you had heard his voice.
“...and what am I supposed to do? Pretend nothing happened?”
“No, but if you forgot that Templar girl, we would be able to show you the right path” said the other, male voice.
“I do not want to forget Élise. Besides, don't you see how pathetic it looks?”
“Pathetic?”
“Taking her because Élise left me? Isn't it pathetic?”
“If you think of it this way, then sure, it is. But I bet (Y/n) would never think like that.” Suddenly you realized it was one of Arno's friends, probably the one who was always carrying his axe.
“Right. She is too good for it.”
“Now you sound like a lovesick boy.”
“Ha, ha, very funny” it was the usual, sarcastic Arno.
“Look, whatever you are going to do, you should decide quickly. (Y/n) is still bound to the Brotherhood and she leaves for a mission soon. Time is running out.”
“Go away. Your advices suck.”
“As you wish. But think of it” the man said and left. Arno closed the window and got back to the bed. He took off his pants and slipped under the blankets, snuggling with you.
“He knows nothing” he muttered into your hair, pressing your body to his. You pretended to stir and wake up, you didn't want him to know you've heard that conversation.
“Hi” you smiled, looking at him.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up” Arno smiled sheepishly.
“It's alright. I wish I could wake up like this every morning” you smiled and kissed him softly.
“Who you are and what did you do to (Y/n)?” he chuckled and kissed you back.
“I feel too good to be salty” you looked at him with happiness radiating from your face.
“Why wouldn't we stay like this forever then?” he asked and your heart skipped a beat. It was the most wonderful thing you could imagine, but at the same time it was equally problematic.
“Are you sure you would like this? I thought it was nothing serious.”
”Positive. I need to take a charge of my life.“
“But Élise...”
“I should stop thinking about Élise. She told me she does not need me, I can live without her either” he answered calmly, but you could see his emotions buzzing.
“Why the sudden change?”
“Last night was really... something. I... well, let's say I realized that life doesn't end with Élise.”
“Or maybe you like to break the rules a little too much?” you smirked.
“You are not that innocent yourself” he looked at you and smirked too.
“I never said I was.”
After some time, when you were sure Arno was asleep, you carefully got out of bed, washed up quickly and dressed up. Then you sat by Arno's desk and wrote him a letter.
My Dearest Arno,
I wish I could stay with you for longer, but my duties call. I feel terrible disappearing like that, while you still are lovely asleep, but I have no other choice. I am deeply sorry for this.
I never hoped for anything like this to happen, after all you have always seen only Élise. I do not feel surprised, she is beautiful, smart and so amazing, that I could date her myself (do not tell her that though, she should not know). What happened between us, happened anyway and I am thrilled. I have to inform you that I had dreamed about it for a very long time.
As you may know by now, I have feelings for you. These might not be as strong as yours about Élise, but I still deeply care about you. I am thrilled that I could make you feel better, even if it was for a moment. I really hope that the next time when we see each other, you will be happier than you are now.
If you need some more time, I will give you all the time. I have a lot of it, I can wait as long as you need me to.
Forever yours,
(Y/n)
You left the letter on the desk and silently left Le Café Théâtre. Then you left for your mission, hoping that it wasn't your last meeting.
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monst · 3 years
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Warnings again: Graphic descriptions of murder, Dubcon, Incest, Pre-meditated murder, Gore
Inspired by: Halloween, Micheal Myers and this post -> Here (The little brother bit of it) 
This story can be read either entirely or you can skip, the middle background, you won’t really be missing the juicy bits since it just describes the early stages of his...infatuation 
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Enjoy!
Silence reigned over the living room save for the desperate wheezes of the dual toned man’s hair. The air hissed as it slipped into his greedy mouth, the heavy sound of his pants were followed by the almost painful expansion of his lungs. He wiped a gloved hand over his brow collecting the droplets that had accumulated throughout the ordeal. 
His stormy eyes looked down at his hand, he saw his soiled reflection on the metallic steel. His pupils danced in dilation, his nostrils still flared. His blood was hot, scorching his veins as with every pound of  his heart. He let the blade fall to the stained rug, fingers trembling with nerves? Adrenalin? Excitement? 
It started with the curving of his lips, then a breathless chuckle until he was keeling over with laughter, tears in his eyes as his foot connected with the soft tissue of the body. He repeated the action kicking the belly of his victim, further soiling his shoes. The beige rug was stained a nauseating maroon, said color also decorated the sofa and he could feel the once warm liquid cool on his face. 
A mess of blood and viscera was left in the place where the man had once cowered. He leered over the man’s body, a grin stretching his pale pink lips. His tongue swept over his lips as he leaned down to the man’s ear to whisper secretively. 
“I’ve been wanting to do this to you the moment I set my eyes on you.” He chirped. “You’ve never deserved her” his fingers slid over the shredded skin of the man’s face as he plucked the crimson stained mask off his face. He stood up and slid the bloodied scream mask over his face, his menacing form illuminated by the colorful strobe lights that still circled the room. He turned towards the staircase of the house, It was time to pay you a visit and give you the good news. 
His heavy footfalls creaked the stairs as he made his way up closer to you, his stomach fluttered with emotion and his elation twitched beneath his trousers. ‘Finally’ He thought as the door to your room whined open. ‘Finally’
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Now you may be wondering how it all came to this. How such an unassuming man could take someone’s life in such a cruel and violent way. To explain that, we need to go back, back in time to the exact moment in which warmth seeped into the man’s heart. The moment in which he decided that he’d do absolutely anything for his older sister.. And that happened when he was a boy and it was all because of the touch of a hand… 
(Backstory is optional, you can easily skip ahead towards the morning of the event)
There was a clear disinterest in the young child’s eyes as his eyes observed the glossy casket. He could hear the whispers of the surrounding guests. The susurrations of ‘what’s going to happen to the children’ ‘The young one doesn’t seem to care about what happened.’ ‘Shush it’s not like he understands what’s going on’ There were more whispers being dropped than there were tears but Shouto disagreed, he understood very well. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 
His eldest sister Fuyumi bawled enough for the rest of the Todoroki siblings. Call him cynical but Shouto didn’t understand why he should cry, why he didn’t give a rats ass that the old man had kicked the can. He supposed he should care about the casket next to his father’s embalmed corpse but he wasn’t exactly close to his snowy haired brother.  In simple terms he wasn’t moved by the theatrics and wanted nothing more than to go home. A home without Enji Todoroki, he wondered what life would be like now that his father was dead. Easier? He pondered on all the freedom he’d finally have…..
Shouto truly didn’t understand… He loathed that vile man and yet his eyes were wet with tears, his small nose stuffing as he sniffled. He had balled his small fists, clutching the dark cloth of his dress shorts, his eldest sister Fuyumi had her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She couldn’t console herself, not to mention her yonder siblings. It was at that moment that he realized how alone he was, Fuyumi seemed leagues away, so out of reach. 
His older brother was furthest away the veil of death separating whatever comfort he may have received from the teen. A cold chill filled his small frame until something came and banished it. Your fingers interlocked with his as you drew him close, he glued himself to the warmth you provided, his body shaking as you hugged him whispering consolations. 
“I-It’s going to be okay Sho.” You sniffled. “W-we still have each other.”
Shouto clung to you ever since, you were two years his senior, his beloved older sister who was always there for him. Sure he had Fuyumi but she wasn’t you, she was someone he had a familial tie to, someone who provided for the both of you, to him Fuyumi was just the guardian. She wasn’t special to him like you were, there wasn’t that connection, there wasn’t that bond. And sadly it never developed as Fuyumi had to leave the both of you for  long lengths of time.
You however adored Fuyumi, you were grateful for her sacrifice of becoming something
akin to a parent towards you and Shouto. In your younger years you scurried about to help her with whatever you could and more often than naught it was watching Shouto while she worked. Your little brother was an oddball, he had a habit of following you around and refused to make friends so as not to leave you. Despite countless arguments of it not being an issue he held fast and you relented and allowed him to shadow you freely. 
In all honesty the signs were all there, the youngest Todoroki would become hysterical when he didn’t know of your whereabouts, he was frustratingly clingy and hostile towards all of your friends. You had lost many friends due to your younger brother’s jaws of doom. No one wanted to play with you when your brother laid in wait like a piranha. This led to further skirmishes but Fuyumi wasn’t adept at dealing with such issues and reassured you that it was just a phase.  So you sucked it up, you didn’t want to worry Fuyumi and add to her stress. ‘It’s probably not easy for her to raise us, especially since she’s younger herself.’ 
And so life went on, your brother’s clinginess never waned but it was diminished when he finally entered highschool. Regardless of him wanting it or not people began to gravitate towards him. To him it was the most annoying thing in the universe. He hated playing nice with his schoolmate, what was even the point? He didn’t care for them, he didn’t love them, they served no purpose and only helped in separating him from you. But he played nice. He played nice for your sake, he was your dear sweet little brother after all and he wouldn’t allow those nuisances to taint your vision of him. 
Everything was going swell, Fuyumi was prosering and getting more and more busy. To his delight she’d leave for days on end on business trips as well. His days would start with him greeting you in the morning and you blessing his cheek with an innocent ‘good morning’ kiss. You’d walk to school, sometimes you’d blow off your friends to eat lunch with him, it always made him feel special, and then you’d walk home. He always loved it when Fuyumi was gone and the both of you were alone. It was almost like the two of you were husband and wife. The thought never failed at leaving him breathless. 
It wasn’t weird. He had rationalized that it was only natural to marry the one you loved. Besides you had agreed to it when you were younger. However, not everyone was accepting of the loving relationship he had with you. 
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“Ew you call your little brother baby?” He had overheard the conversation on his way to your class. 
“So? He’s my baby brother so I call him baby, it’s not a big deal.” You shrugged. 
“It is kinda icky (Name).” The voice that had said it was deep and masculine and he didn’t like how his words made you pause. You should have fought against it, you should have told them to fuck off. 
“O-oh…” You mumbled. “I g-guess he is a bit grown.” He had made his presence known after that, his haughty eyes lacerating your classmate. The smug teen had an arm looped around your shoulder and from the look on your face you weren’t opposed to it. 
That was a turning point in your relationship. To his dismay you began to date that...guy. That fucker drove a wedge between you. You changed because of him, and he hated it. He despised it so so very much. The day he realized that your boyfriend had to be done away with was when he came home one afternoon, you had insisted he join an extracurricular activity and that had put an end to walking home with you. And so when he came home and he heard you, he ran to his room and peeled back the movie poster in his room, his blue eye widening in horror as that disgusting, vile, grotesque creature defiled you. 
The tree at the edge of the property took the brunt of his emotions that day. His fists were split as he abused the bark of the tree, his teeth grinded viciously. All of his fantasies of being your first were dashed, all those nights researching, all those nights observing your body from his peephole, in order to know what you liked “Wasted!” When he walked back in you were adjusting your clothes in the kitchen making the bastard a sandwich. 
“S-shouto!” You yelped. You no longer called him baby. You were startled until you took notice of his bruised knuckles. “Are you okay!?” You fretted, reaching out towards him. He flinched away from you, hurt. 
“Bah leave the kid alone and stop coddling him, it’s just a flesh wound.” The thing scoffed. 
“But it could get infected.” You mumbled. 
“Ughh shut up already, where’s my food?” He asked you… Yes, Shouto despised that man. In his mind he had gouged out his perverse eyes and peeled back his grimey skin. You had regressed into yourself ever since you had gotten together with that guy. He dedicated your every move, and to add fire to the ever growing flames he had the audacity to put his hands on you. 
“Leave him.” He hissed one day. 
“I...I can’t Sho..I love him.” Love? Love he had scoffed. That wasn’t love, god he’d show you what love actually was if you would only leave that man. ‘If only he just died.’ This thought gnawed at the back of his mind as years passed and you remained in such a toxic relationship. By now your...he refused to call him your lover, by now your abuser had died in his mind over a billion times. 
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Prior to the murder…   
(Backstory skippers, it begins here) 
It was one of those rare days when that nasty shadow wasn’t looming over you, the both of you were sipping coffee as Fuyumi explained that she would be going abroad. It wasn’t anything new as work for her got busiest during the fall. 
“H-He asked me to move out with him.” You smiled. 
“Absolutely not.” He scoffed.  
“I have to agree with our little brother on this one (Name).” You had blown up on them, screaming about them not understanding, until you were left sobbing in your chair. 
“H-He can change… I know he can.” Needless to say, he didn’t. As soon as he heard that Fuyumi was half-way across the globe he pressured you into throwing a party. Luckily for you Shouto didn’t have any classes to attend and was willing to help you arrange the hastily put together party. 
“I still can’t believe you're with him.” He mumbled as he arranged the red solo cups on the table. 
“Trust me Sho I’ve tried to end it but…” You looked away from the youngest Todoroki until you felt his hand slide into yours. 
“Remember, I’ve always got your back if you need me to fuck him up for him to leave you alone I’ll do it.” He smiled, his heart skipped when your arms wrapped around his neck. ‘Soon’ he thought, his arms tightening around your frame. 
“I really don’t deserve you Shouto thank you.” You sniffled. 
“It’s-
“The fuck are you two doing?” ‘Great’ Shouto rolled his eyes, pressing his lean body closer to yours. ‘It’s here’ “You sure your not tryna fuck your brother you little slut.” 
“Of course not.” You mumbled, your arms tightening around your younger brother’s frame, he felt your body tremble, fear and anger coursing through your veins. Ever so slowly you stepped out of the protective embrace of your brother. You didn’t notice how Shouto clenched his jaw when that man’s hand came down on your ass. You shifted away from him but his hand caught you by the crook of your elbow. “What? No kiss? Don’t tell me you're still mad about me cheating on you.” He scoffed. 
You looked away, a scowl on your lips. “C’mon babe how ‘bout I make it up to you?” He grinned. You weren’t interested instead you turned towards your brother. 
“Are you inviting anyone?” You asked. You caught yourself staring at your younger brother who now towered over you, his dark eyes narrowed at your boyfriend, strong arms crossed against his beefy chest. You made out the way his sharp jaw clenched and it had just struck you ‘He’s gotten so handsome.’ You looked away when you noticed how his eyes softened when he turned towards you. 
“Didya buy the booze I asked for?” The other man cut in. You nodded, grateful that Shouto had ran out and bought it for you while you hid all the valuables in the house. He dropped onto the couch unceremoniously and began to message his friends. 
“So are you?” You asked once more as the both of you continued to put certain breakable items away. 
“Maybe.” He shrugged, he wasn’t particularly interested in inviting the people who called him their friend. 
“You should invite that one girl that used to go to highschool with you.” You hummed. “I’m pretty sure she had a crush on you~”
“She did.” He sighed. “I just wasn’t interested, besides inviting her would only make things....awkward.”
“Your so picky Sho, most sophomores in college are out there partying, living life and ‘fucking bitches’” You teased. 
“Well I’m not like most men my age.”  The drop of his voice startled you, the hair on your arms raising at the slight raspy tone. You excused yourself to change. This wasn’t the first time Shouto’s acted rather...suspicious around you. In his twenty years of life he had always shown particular favor towards you sometimes with an intensity that sort of scared you. It was like he..had feelings for you. 
‘Ridiculous’ You chimed as you stripped out of your clothes. You had always reminded yourself that the thought was preposterous. ‘He’s still waiting for the right one, that’s why he’s never shown any interest in anyone.’ A small voice at the back of your head whispered a small doubt ‘except for me’. “Ludacris.” You huffed as you picked out what to wear and readied yourself, you chose a raunchy outfit, short sheer fabrics that tightened around your curves, heels that flattered the slopes of your calves and a pair of fluffy cat ears. Mittens were placed over your hands as you fastened the faux tail onto your waist. 
You painted whiskers on your cheeks, your lips a deep shade of ruby. You looked stunning and you were planning on using your appearance to get back at your loser boyfriend. A smirk fitted your face ‘That assholes’ going to regret cheating on me’ 
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Shouto shuffled over to a corner as strangers began to arrive at the family home. He noticed a couple of people from his major slither in but made no move to greet them. After all there was no need. The music was loud in his ears and the stench of sweat hung in the air like an off brand diffuser. It wasn’t long before the house became a clutter of bodies, they donned glitter and masks as they grinded against each other. 
Plumes of smoke blurred the ceiling as people gathered around a bong one of his ‘friends’ had brought in. The breath of the people who came up to flirt with him was thick with the scent of booze. His vacant eyes scanned the crowd, various people dressed as sexy nurses, nuns, devils etc. There were some good ones, special effects decorated a realistic zombie, but not even the walking dead cosplayer could salvage the party. To him it was a miserable event, a violation of his and your sanctuary. All he could think of was how he wished he could recreate the sense from the collector 2. It put a smile on his face. Apparently his smile attracted his friends. 
“Come on Todoroki!” Midoriya chimed holding up a cup towards him. “Have a drink”  “Yeah loosen up and have some fun~” Ochako grinned. “Also~ Look who's here.” She 
elbowed him in the gut, cocking her head towards a pretty long haired brunette dressed as a witch. He rolled his eyes, how many times did he have to tell these annoying people that he wasn’t interested in anyone. 
“Look I know your a bit shy but she still likes you. Maybe you can go over there, chat her up a bit and who knows you might even get laid.” He was not amused. ‘There’s only one person I want to-’ He looked past the girl and his jaw dropped. He could feel his face warm up, his breath complete and utterly stolen. 
“Wow.” He breathed. His friends assumed he spoke of the Yaoyorozu and nudged him over towards that general direction. He walked slowly towards you, you looked a sight. The neon lights made your skin glow, your liner giving your eyes a more cattish look that to him made you look downright sexy. Your exposed flesh teased his eyes and your lips. God he wished he could steal them. 
His throat bobbed as he saw you drink from a plastic cup, your tongue running across your lower lip seductively. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, blood rushing south. His mouth watered and before he knew it someone obstructed his view of you. 
“S-Shouto.” He frowned. “I noticed that you were looking at-
“I’m sorry but can you move out of my way?” He cut her off and made to walk away to pursue you. He was ready to risk it all, he was tired of waiting for you to notice him. Tired of being brushed aside and he was sick of watching someone as ethereal as you be treated like trash. Maybe now was his chance. Your ‘feelings’ for your boyfriend were waning and now was the perfect moment to sweep you off your feet to show you how he was the best choice for you. 
Before he could walk away he felt the young woman grab his wrist. 
“W-wait d-don’t you like me?” She asked. He scoffed, his eyes zoning in on you. He was trying not to let you out of his sight when he saw it. He grit his teeth in anger as you flirted with his senor. Mirio just smiled politely complimenting you as you leaned against him. Yaoyorozu looked at him watching as his grip on his cup tightened and how his eyes narrowed down at the tall blond. She finally understood. She recoiled away from him, drawing her hand back as if she had been burned. 
Her lips curled in disgust, her eyes cringing in disbelief. She brought her hand up to her mouth. “I-I can’t believe it.” She whispered. “The rumors are actually true..” 
“What?” He asked, his sharp gaze slicing through her. She backed up tossing her drink on his face. 
“Get away from me you sick pervert.” she hissed. 
“Hey!” You shouted, you marched up to the girl who tossed the beer into your brother’s face. You quickly noticed who she was and for the wrong reasons you understood why Shouto didn’t like her. From where you were standing you saw a rich, beautiful girl who was angry at your younger brother’s rejection. She had to go. “If your going to harass my baby you can just fucking leave.” You hissed. 
“I’ll leave gladly.” She hissed. “You too fucking disgust me.” 
“Sho are you okay?” You asked, your hand slipping into his. He looked down at it in disbelief, his heart swelled ‘She called me baby again. She’s here in front of everyone holding my hand.’ He couldn’t stop the furious flush from claiming his cheeks. 
“Shouto?”
“I-I’m fine.” He smiled. It was a warm smile, something that unsettled his approaching friends. 
“Good.” You beamed. “You should go change and actually put on a costume.”
He nodded mutely and walked past Midoriya and Uraraka, a blissful smile on his lips as he went up to change. He wondered if you’d like his vampire costume..
“Do you think..”
“Ha, no way it’s not possible…” 
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He checked his reflection a couple of times before heading downstairs, he wondered if you’d like the way he parted his hair. He’s heard people say it was sexy, he wondered if you thought he was sexually attractive. As soon as he reached the bottom step he frowned, your blubbering idiot of a boyfriend was piss poor drunk. And by the way he set his gaze on him Shouto knew he was going to have to exhibit an almost superhero level of self-restraint. 
“Oi sissy boy, why you ain’t ever got a woman?” He slurred. “You gay or something?” 
“Okay man I think you’ve had too many.” his friend waved him off trying to get him to leave. 
“No I’m not dun speaking.” He stumbled as he swiveled over to look up at Shouto. “Listen here punk.” His rancid breath fanned across Todoroki’s face, and he couldn’t help but cringe his lips curling in disgust. 
“Ya gotta problem wit meh? Always glaring at me an shit. Alway following my bitch around, you like her or sum? Your dick get hard for your sister?” He had started a commotion, a crowd soon gathering. Shouto had taken your panicked expression in and for your sake, he walked away. “That’s rite! Walk away you prissy bitch.” 
When he came back the party was over and you were left cleaning up the mess. The lights were still swirling around the room and he could make out the lump of the man laying on the couch passed out. Your tired eyes were red rimmed as you smiled at him. “Hey Sho.” 
It was when he saw the swelling in your left eye that he began to seethe. “He fucking hit you again.” He snarled, his fists balled up in fury. 
“H-He said he was sorry…” You sniffed weakly, you were on your last legs. Tired of defending him yet he knew if the man brought you flowers and took you out for a night in the town you’d crawl back having forgiven him. He couldn’t have that, he wouldn’t. “I-It’s alright Shouto i-it doesn’t even hurt anymore.” You sighed as his thumb caressed your cheek his fingers lightly bruising against the inflamed area. You winced and it was only when you met his teary gaze that you began to cry. You cried in his arms, you cried in the arms of the only man who loved you, and the only man who would protect you. He vowed to do justice by you, you would just have to bear it for a while longer. 
He kept his anger under wraps as he helped you clean, his grip on the broom was tight as he watched you go upstairs. It was then that his blood began to boil. But he would have to be patient, he fished out his phone waiting for you to be done showering. The texts he read over left him tugging at the roots of his hair. You hadn’t explained everything. Apparently he had hit you during the party in front of everyone then proceeded to throw everyone out. There were even videos!
White hot anger clouded his eyes, the snowy color was all that he could see as he walked into the kitchen. His heart beat in his ears and his blood was replaced by lava. He panted like something rabid, his vision fading and all of his previous fantasies coming to rest in the front of his mind. Soon his fingers wrapped around the cool metal of a kitchen knife. 
He caught a glimpse of his expression on the metallic surface, red rimmed his eyes' malicious intent curving up his lips. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as he walked towards the living room. His footsteps were slow as he wanted to savor the moment, breath every detail in. Once he reached the man he tapped the knife against his scruffy cheek. 
“You know.” He whispered. “I’ve been wanting to kill you for so so long.” 
He climbed over the man, his legs straddling his form. “You remind me of my father.” He smiled. “And I loathed him~ I didn’t mean to get Natsuo killed when I cut the breaks but” He paused to shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal. I got two for the price of one.” He chuckled, a frown soon slipped onto his visage. He wanted the man to be conscious for this. With out warning he backhanded the man without an ounce of self-restraint. 
“Gah!” The guy panicked. His eyes wide and shifting as he tried to make sense of the situation, all he could feel was the booming pain on his cheek, a coppery liquid pooling in his mouth. “S-Shouto!?” He gasped confused. There was a strange smile on the young man’s face that he’d never seen, it was frightening and he struggled to buck the stronger man off him. “G-Get off me!”
“No.” He wheezed. “It’s funny, isn’t it! The feeling you feel right now? I’m pretty sure my big sister felt it all the time, unbridled fear.” He teased revealing the clean metal of the knife. 
“T-This isn’t funny.” He stuttered. 
“I know.” Shouto seethed. “It’s never been funny, the way you treat the love of my life, I never found that shit amusing.” 
“Y-Your crazy!” He gasped, hyperventilating at the crushing weight and the palpable fear. “I-I’ll scream.” He warned. 
“Oh” He nodded. “I’m counting on it.” He leaned closer to the man’s ear. “You see we have no close neighbors and well (Name)’s room is soundproof. You see.. I just couldn’t stand the sound of you touching her.”
“(Name)!” He yelled, he was met with an explosive pain, his jaw crunching under the force of the blow, teeth loosening, some even dislodging and sliding down his bloodied throat. 
“You know how disgusting it was to watch you touch her? Watch you soil her perfect body.” He hissed, his fist colliding with his face repeatedly, until he stopped suddenly. “But that’s okay.” He laughed caressing the soiled face of the deadman. 
The man whimpered in pain, garbled noises bubbling from his busted lips. Crimson bubbles popped as he tried to beg for the Todoroki to spare him. “Shh shush I haven’t told you why it’s okay. It’s okay because I plan to erase all of that, all those nasty hurtful touches, they’ll be replaced by my loving hands, my lips and my dick. It’ll be fantastic and the best part is that little ol’ you won’t be a part of it.” THe tip of the knife booped his nose and the man scrambled to get up when he felt Shouto’s weight leave him. 
Shouto didn’t know what to name the feeling coursing through his veins. He was ecstatic, he was angry and the thoughts of the future had him giddy. Blood had rushed south and he felt drunkenly dizzy. ‘Woah let’s not get carried away’ he tried to rationalize ‘We still have to deal with him.’ The man held his dislocated jaw and tried to make a run for it. But in his still drunk and confused state all he could manage was a stumble. 
It was then that Shouto came down upon him, he plunged the knife into the soft flesh of the guy’s belly. His wide eyes gazed into Shouto’s blank excited ones and he couldn’t even hold the wound as he was repeatedly stabbed. His thin flesh squelched with each plunge, his life seeping and splattering around his perimeter. Shouto didn’t relent not even as his body slumped to the ground. Instead he followed him down, he snarled and growled as he attacked the man. 
He thought of all he had put you through, how he made you shrivel and curl into yourself like a cooked shrimp of all of the times he talked him down and of the distance he had forced between you. He gasped and panted as he straddled the limp body of another nuisance he had gotten rid of. After a while he pulled back and stood. 
              Silence reigned over the living room save for the desperate wheezes of the dual toned man’s hair. The air hissed as it slipped into his greedy mouth, the heavy sound of his pants were followed by the almost painful expansion of his lungs. He wiped a gloved hand over his brow collecting the droplets that had accumulated throughout the ordeal. 
His stormy eyes looked down at his hand, he saw his soiled reflection on the metallic steel. His pupils danced in dilation, his nostrils still flared. His blood was hot, scorching his veins as with every pound of  his heart. He let the blade fall to the stained rug, fingers trembling with nerves? Adrenalin? Excitement? 
It started with the curving of his lips, then a breathless chuckle until he was keeling over with laughter, tears in his eyes as his foot connected with the soft tissue of the body. He repeated the action kicking the belly of his victim, further soiling his shoes. The beige rug was stained a nauseating maroon, said color also decorated the sofa and he could feel the once warm liquid cool on his face. 
A mess of blood and viscera was left in the place where the man had once cowered. He leered over the man’s body, a grin stretching his pale pink lips. His tongue swept over his lips as he leaned down to the man’s ear to whisper secretively. 
“I’ve been wanting to do this to you the moment I set my eyes on you.” He chirped. “You’ve never deserved her” his fingers slid over the shredded skin of the man’s face as he plucked the crimson stained mask off his face. He stood up and slid the bloodied scream mask over his face, his menacing form illuminated by the colorful strobe lights that still circled the room. He turned towards the staircase of the house, It was time to pay you a visit and give you the good news. 
His heavy footfalls creaked the stairs as he made his way up closer to you, his stomach fluttered with emotion and his elation twitched beneath his trousers. ‘Finally’ He thought as the door to your room whined open. ‘Finally’
There you laid, body rising and falling in slumber, completely unperturbed by what had happened just beneath your room. You were beautiful. You had changed into more comfortable clothes for sleep and he quietly peeled back your covers to observe. His fingers stained the duvet as he bunched it up at the end of the bed. He pulled off his gloves and let his fingertips ghost over your legs. You shivered cutely at the light touch. 
He smiled beneath his bloodied mask, he figured he should trick you for a bit before he revealed the news. He climbed atop the bed, the mattress dipping underneath his weight. His fingers ghosted up your legs, cold digits reaching the crotch of your pants. He pressed his palm against the soft indent of flesh, his heart sped up at the warmth emanating from your most intimate place. He’d only ever dreamed of this. 
“Hmm” You sighed in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open when you felt the cold fingers. You sat up confused. You called the name of your lover and Shouto chuckled darkly. You huffed in annoyance when he didn’t answer. “I thought I said I didn’t want to see you anymore.” You frowned. “Hello, you listening? Ugh are you still drunk.” 
You flinched when he raised his hand and your brother felt his heart break at the reaction. ‘Don’t worry from now on I won’t let anyone else lay their hands on you.’ His hand slid up to your face and he cupped your cheek gently, pressing his masked forehead against yours. You were thoroughly confused. 
You were used to your boyfriend coming into your room for makeup sex but he was never this gentle with you. The thought of him meaning he was really sorry crossed your mind but, the fingers caressing your cheek didn’t feel like your boyfriends’ but it did feel familiar and it was comforting. It wasn’t long before he began to tug your clothes off your body, his hands traced your form appreciatively and you sighed blissfully at the feeling. 
“H-Hey at least take off your mask.” His silence was strange but you welcomed it. His hands came over your eyes, gently closing them. You caught on and kept them closed as you heard the rustle of clothes. It was then that you felt the press of smooth lips against your own. His fingers traced every inch of your body caressing the smooth flesh as his lips pressed soft kisses on your lips. Shouto swore there would never be anything better than your plush lips pressing against his own. 
Well that was his thought, until his fingers pressed against your slick lower lips. He buried his face in your neck, face flushed as you curled your arms around his neck. The soft squish of your wet lips had him throbbing and he let his fingers pet your clit as he worshiped the delicious length of your neck. You were on cloud nine as he kneaded and massaged your doughy flesh. His lips suckled on your breasts, tongue lavishing the hardened buds in attention as his fingers continued to swirl and tap against your swollen pearl. 
“Nngh” You gasped when you felt his fingers slip inside of you, your fingers coming up to fist his soft his, your other hand clawing at his broad shoulders. It was the feel of these textures that spurred you to open your eyes. “S-Shouto!” You moaned. 
His blue grey eyes slinked up to meet your gaze, his lidded expression filling your cheeks with warmth. Your jaw unhinged in another gasp as his thick fingers continued to slide inside your warm fleshy walls. Your mouth parted in protest “W-What are y-y-” Soft lips caught your own and your eyes enlarged as you felt your younger brother's tongue slide past your lips. The warm wet muscles gliding over your own. 
His other hand palmed your breast fingers squeezing the supple flesh that was still covered in a thin layer of his saliva. You pressed your hands to his chest. ‘T-This is wrong! You thought as his tongue rolled in between your teeth. When he pulled away there was a string of saliva that broke off. 
“I love you.” He breathed, placing his lips where he knew they belonged. 
“Ah~” You didn’t mean to let the sound slip, but his fingers had curved inside of you and with every thrust he put pressure against your g-spot. Your hand went to his wrist in order to halt his movement. 
“S-Shouto s-stop this is wrong, y-your my-
“Little brother.” He finished his mouth sucking on your neck. “I don’t care about that, in my opinion it just means we’re more connected.” His smile shocked you but what you felt against your thigh shocked you even more. 
“I-”
“Shh there’s no one to stop us.” He whispered. “No one to stop me from showing you how you should be loved.”
Your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to string together something coherent. Your protests resumed when he slid his other hand down your body, he leaned up allowing you to see the light sheen of sweat that highlighted the strong muscles of his body. And your eyes looked down his cut abdomen towards the bi-colored trail of hair leading down towards his weeping cock. His eyes met your and your face caught fire. You were about to draw into yourself and curl your body away from his lustful gaze when his large palms slid underneath your thighs. 
Your back hit the bed as he leaned his face closer to your cunt. You mind was still reeling, ‘G-get a grip (Name)! Your baby brother’s face is legit inches from your puss-
“Oh fuck.” You gasped as his hot tongue slid up the length of your slit. His tongue traced your lips, tongue curving into the folds of your labia before sliding back up towards your needy clit. When his tongue began to flick against the sensitive nerves you were lost. You arched your back pressing your pussy closer to his face practically begging him to suck you dry. 
He obliged, his mouth closing around your clit, fingers finding home base deep within your deliciously warm walls. You pulsed and trobbed around his finger and he swore he was dreaming. You tasted better than he imagined, you sounded better in person than from behind a wall. And god you just looked so damn amazing.  
“S-Shouto!” You cried. He moaned into you. Fuck yes that was all he ever wanted, all he needed, he need you to say it again to call his name out so desperately. He was grinding against the mattress as he let your warmth suffocate him. He held you close as you began to tremble your legs clamping over his head as you came around his tongue. 
“Hah~” He pulled back, his lips sticky with your slick, he wasted no time in capturing your lips once more. “Big sis I love you so much.” He gasped. “I -I want to show you how much.” 
“B-baby this is wrong.” Your protest was weak, no one had ever touched you like Shouto, no one had loved you as unconditionally as him, but this was morally wrong. 
“Don’t you love me?” He asked. 
“Of course I love you.” You replied. 
“Then there’s no problem.” He smiled. He settled in between your thighs, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. He could seriously cum right there and then by just the incredible sight. And when he pushed into your hole he melted. He felt even more complete with every inch he fed into you. “I’m inside of you (Name).” His grin was practically euphoric and you fluttered around his impressive size. 
Then he began to move. He praised the feel of you, his length sliding in and out, slow and deep. That night Shouto made due on his promise to love you, and as you drifted off to sleep he replayed the moment, relishing in how you claimed to love him. 
.
.
.
When you awoke the next morning your mind slapped you with what had occurred last night. The horrors of you claiming to love your little brother cock filled you with a crippling sense of shame. You hadn’t woke to him next to you but after dressing you went to find him. You had to let him know that that couldn’t happen again. 
You hugged yourself as you walked down the stairs, from your spot you could see Shouto in the kitchen, on the table were two bowls and a box of your favorite cereal. ‘It’s now or-. The smell hit you first, a strong nauseating smell that you were only used to smelling during your heavier flows. Your blood drain and in its place your heart pumped liquid nitrogen. You reeled back as you caught sight of the body in front of you, you stumbled over your feet, your ass meeting the floor. Tears dripped down your chin as you tried to make heads or tails of what you saw. 
“What are you doing on the floor?” You heard your brother ask. He then noticed what you were looking at. “Oh.. Oh! I forgot to tell you the good news yesterday since we were so caught up.” He blushed. 
“G-good news..”
“Yeah, good news, that’s no longer in the picture.” He beamed. “Now come on you must be hungry~”
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buckbarnesjames · 3 years
Text
Chapter One (Updated)
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Summary: “If I cannot get it right now, I don’t want it at all”.
Pairings: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: discussions of sugar daddy/sugar baby relationships. swearing. discussions of sex. 
Word Count: 2216
A/N: Hey guys, I’ll be back to writing this soon as inspiration has hit again, I’m just updating the previous chapters! I had to repost this one as I couldn’t find the original post to edit it. Please enjoy and as always, feedback is welcomed. The taglist is OPEN so feel free to ask to be tagged! 
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Bucky spent the rest of Friday afternoon mulling over how to broach the subject with you. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable in the work environment, but he had secretly always dreamed of having a more personal relationship with you and it wasn’t as if he was new to the sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamic - in fact, he rather enjoyed it. Eventually, he decides to let it go for now and think more about it over the weekend. Meanwhile, whilst Bucky is preparing to spend the weekend overthinking his predicament, you’re preparing to spend time with Nat and Wanda.
Saturday evening you meet them for drinks at a popular nightclub. “Hey, sugar baby” Nat teases you. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at her. “Enough of that, Natalia. I told you to drop it” you sass back at her. After a few more minutes of teasing from Nat and Wanda, they finally drop the subject. The waiter approaches your table and you order a round for you and the girls - a Cosmopolitan for Wanda, a white Russian for Nat and a Daiquiri in your favourite flavour for yourself. After a few rounds, you’re feeling brave enough to hit the dance floor.
You and the girls dance close together, the feeling of the bass pumping through your ears. You feel a pair of eyes watching you but brush it off and continue to dance. Halfway through the next song, you feel Nat’s hands on your waist as she leans in close enough that you’re able to hear you, “Hey...isn’t that Mr Barnes?” she says, tilting her head in the direction of the bar. Sure enough, there he is and he’s watching you rather intently. “Let’s give our boss a show, shall we?” she says before spinning you around. You throw your head back laughing, the alcohol probably clouding your judgement, and try to scold her in between giggles. You and the girls dance for a while, with Nat periodically confirming that Mr Barnes - and his friend - are indeed watching you.
Eventually the dancing wears you out, and you all head back to your booth. The waiter approaches again with a fresh round when he notices you all taking your seats. As he places the final drink down, he points towards the bar where Bucky and his friend previously stood, “The gentleman over there would like a moment of your time” he says, smiling knowingly. You look over to see that he’s still there along with his friend, who you now recognise is his business partner, Steve Rogers, nursing glasses of whiskey. As if he can sense your eyes on him, he looks up at you and smiles.
“I’ll be back in a moment” you say to Nat and Wanda. They look between you and Bucky in surprise before Nat drunkenly declares, “Uh oh, you’re in trouble” and giggles. Wanda tries to shush her whilst motioning for you to go as you stand there nervously tugging your dress down, which you now feel is way too short, and taking a long sip of your drink.
You approach Bucky and Steve, “Mr Barnes, are you trying to proposition me?” You joke, the fresh drink in your system giving you a little confidence. If only you had an idea of the thought that had swirled around his mind all day. He had originally called you over to discuss the conversation he had overheard, the alcohol in his system impairing his judgement, but now that you’re standing in front of him he can’t get the words out so instead chuckles at your joke. “Of course not, Miss Y/L/N. I just wanted to offer you a drink, you've worked hard this week” he smiles at you and awaits your answer as you try to ignore your brain suggesting that he’s also referring to the little dance show earlier.
“I appreciate that, Mr Barnes, but we were just about to leave.” Bucky looks a little disappointed at your reply. “Maybe another time though?” you smile at him brightly before realising what you had said. You could feel embarrassment coursing through your body. You had no idea why you’d suggested grabbing a drink with your boss. You excuse yourself quickly after that and head home with the girls, missing the way Bucky smoothes his tongue over his lips. You looked good in that dress.
“Is that the girl you were talking about? Your assistant?” Steve interrupts the tirade of dirty thoughts racing through his mind, and he’s grateful. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. The whole sugar baby/sugar daddy thing was a ridiculous idea, a momentary lapse in his judgement. He nods at Steve in reply and downs his whiskey, ordering another one as he places his glass down on the bar. “You have it bad, dude” Steve laughs and Bucky scowls at him. “I can see why, but I prefer redheads” Steve continues joking, looking to the exit as you, Wanda and Nat leave. “Nat would eat you alive, pretty boy. She’s ruthless and that’s why she’s head of the finance department” Bucky bites back. Steve laughs and proudly declares that he could handle her, to which Bucky continuously denies for the rest of the night as Steve tries to convince him to give him Nat’s number.
You arrive on time to work on Monday, your car having spent the weekend in the garage, and the next few days pass by in a blur of meetings, business proposals and coffee making. You don’t see much of Bucky through the week but put it down to the time of year and not the encounter you’d had with him Saturday night. You knew he was probably planning the end of month gala to celebrate acquiring an important business deal. Before you know it, Thursday arrives.
Bucky is working late again. As usual, you’d order him some food and placed it on his desk. You’re packing your bag to head home when Bucky enters the office, closing the door behind him. “Miss Y/L/N, could I talk to you for a moment?” he says, his tone serious and you begin to worry that you’ve done something wrong. “Of course, Mr Barnes. Is everything okay? I haven’t messed something up have I?” you ramble on. You couldn’t afford to lose this job, the pay was great and allowed you to live comfortably in a decent Manhattan apartment. “Y/N,” Bucky interrupts your inner monologue, “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you about a conversation I overheard the other week.” Your stomach drops. Oh, shit. He’d heard you, Nat and Wanda.
You look to the floor, embarrassed. “Mr Barnes, I can explain…” Bucky interrupts you again, this time by placing his finger under your chin and lifting your head so your graze meets his. You gasp at the contact. Bucky had never been this informal with you before. “You’re not in trouble, Y/N. In fact, I found the conversation rather interesting.” Bucky says, removing his hand from underneath your chin once he’s sure you won’t break eye contact. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this for the past week and I don’t want to overstep any boundaries but well, If I don’t ask then I’ll never know.”
“Thinking about what, Mr Barnes?” You look at him in confusion, your head tilted slightly to the left. Bucky finds the action endearing. You look so innocent. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “Look, you know as well as anybody around here that If I can’t get what I want right now, then I don’t want it and well right now… I want you. I want you in the capacity that you and your friends were talking about on Friday.” Bucky hears as you sharply inhale. “You mean, you want me as...as your sugar baby?” you ask, your voice an octave higher than usual. Bucky chuckles softly at your nervousness. “Yes, Y/N. You’re free to say no, I’ll never broach the subject again and we can continue to work together in a professional capacity but...I’d really like it if you were to say yes”.
“Why me?” you ask. You don’t know why but it’s the only thing you can say. For some reason, your feet aren’t carrying you out of the office and home as fast as possible, like you’d wished when this conversation had begun. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you’d secretly fantasized about your attractive boss since the moment you began working at Barnes Industries. “I have more money than I have sense, Y/N, and if I’ve gotta spend it on someone other than myself then I choose the beautiful girl who has sat at the desk across from me for the past two years”. Bucky watches you, surveying your reaction. He was pushing the boundaries so far right now but god, he hadn’t been able to get this idea out of his head all week. “Beautiful?” You ask, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had said in the last five minutes. “Beautiful” he says firmly.
“How would this even work, Mr Barnes?” you ask, the wheels in your head are spinning a thousand miles and hour and you can’t stop yourself from entertaining the idea. BUcky smiles and you see him visibly relax. He pulls a recognisable Tiffany & Co box out of the pocket of his suit pants. “Well...if you were to agree, I’d love for you to accept this gift and wear it every day around the office.” He opens the box to reveal a drop pendant with five, shining stones. You gasp at the simplistic beauty of it. “And what then...if I accept?” you whisper. You had no idea why you were whispering, you knew that you and Bucky were alone in the office. “If you were to accept, I would take you on an initial spending spree and buy you whatever clothes, shoes and products you desired. I would then give you a weekly allowance of an agreed upon amount” Bucky says, his tone similar to the one he uses in business meetings. “And what would you require from me?” you ask. He knows what you’re implying. “You wouldn’t have to do anything you were uncomfortable with. I’d require your company at any events I have to attend and I would love to spend time with you outside of the work environment, taking you to dinner and things but that would only happen if you wanted it to” he answers, watching as a mixture of emotions flash across your face - surprise, confusion and relief. It stings a little when he recognises the look of relief on your face, he’d always been attracted to you and hoped the feeling was mutual.
“This is all so sudden, James” given the situation, you address him informally. His heart flutters at the way you say his name. “I know, and you don’t have to agree but if you decide this is something you want...then text this number before eight tomorrow morning and I’ll send a car for you” he says and he hands you a card with a cellphone number that you don’t recognise.”It’s my drivers number” he answers the question he can see formulating in your mind. You smile, knowing he’d given you that number because his personal phone tended not to be charged unless you’d done it. “I’ll let you go home now and think about things,” he says, taking a step back from you and giving you some breathing room. You silently pick your bag up and make your way to the door of the office, with shaky legs. You turn back to look at him offering him a small smile and a “Goodnight, Mr Barnes”.
You toss and turn all night, mulling the idea over. It wasn’t like you needed the money, Barnes Industries paid you well - probably above the national salary of an executive assistant - but the idea of spending time with Bucky in a more personal way was gnawing at your mind. It was no secret between you and your friends that you had always harbored a little crush on him, and now he was practically on his hands and knees in front of you offering himself - and his money - to you. You get out of bed at seven AM, deciding there was no point in lying around any longer. You get dressed for the day quickly and attempt to eat some breakfast but the nervousness in your stomach doesn’t allow you to eat much so you just drink a coffee and eat a few spoonfuls of oatmeal. You pick up your phone and the piece of paper Bucky had given you last night and take a deep breath before typing out the words that would change your life forever.
I thought about it, Mr Barnes. You type out, clicking send immediately after - giving yourself no chance to change your mind for the millionth time. And what did you decide, Miss Y/L/N? The reply is instant, as if he had been waiting around all morning for you to come to a decision. You quickly type and send your reply.
Yes.
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britishboystm · 3 years
Text
The First Meeting | The Day We Met: A Fred Weasley Mini Series
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Inspired by:
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: just pure fluff, separation anxiety, sad goodbyes
WC: 1.3k
Chapter Summary: Y/N L/N gives a send off to family before making her way to her first year at Hogwarts. Who will she meet along the way?
Series Masterlist
***
September 1st 1989,
Shoes buckled and shined and a stack of first year books was all eleven year old Y/N L/N needed. To most, being exposed to magic for the very first time would be a frightening thing, but to her, it was nothing short of being absolutely marvelous. It hadn’t even been a couple of weeks since she was informed of who she really was. Both her parents were what she overheard someone call a “muggle”. However her aunt on her mother’s side also happened to be a witch and had made the promise to her hesitant parents that she would be little Y/N’s guide through her seven adventurous years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
“Hurry Y/N don’t doddle!” her aunt puffed out. Y/N was currently being pulled through Kings Cross Station by the hand, dodging civilians left and right.
Warm brick walls, high ceilings and the loud hustle and bustle of London life ignited a fuzzy feeling of excitement within little Y/N. Numerous trains saluted off for their next journey with the sound of their commanding whistles.
“Here darling, run on through.” Y/N furrowed her little bushy brows and quickly looked up at the older woman in confusion as they abruptly stopped in front of a brick wall type pillar that sat firmly between platforms nine and ten.
“Run where?”
“Well the wall of course!” Y/N’s E/C eyes grew ten times bigger. She was then snatched out of her bewilderment by frantic shouts coming from behind her.
“Come along Fred, George, Percy put the book down!” A woman with bushy red hair and an attire completely made from knitted wool came cobbling down the platforms with three younger male versions of herself following close behind. Two of which being identical.
“Are you heading through dear?” The woman asked kindly as she finally stopped and took a moment to catch her breath. They were obviously in a hurry, much like Y/N and her aunt.
“It’s her first year. Would you mind going first so she can see there is nothing to worry about?” The woman looked over at Y/N’s aunt with understanding then back down to Y/N again.
“Not to worry dear, this is Fred and George’s first year as well.” She gazed up to see the identical twins smile with pride.
“All you have to do is run straight towards that wall. Percy why don’t you run along first so she can see?” The boy who Y/N could only assume to be Percy, rolled his eyes, clearly holding himself at a high regard, frustrated he had to show this little nïave first year how to get through to 9 ¾.
He then quickly picked up speed, and right before her very eyes, he was gone, vanished into the wall as though it were a cloud. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment. Everyone else looked as though it were a regular Monday.
“Go on.” The woman spoke gently, using her hands to gesture forward. With a deep inhale in hopes of calming her nerves, Y/N held her breath and closed her eyes before charging towards her new and exciting life.
Once she felt it safe to pry her lids apart, she became aware of the fact that she had been transported to a whole new world of wonder. Witches and Wizards were scurrying around, not wanting their children to be late and tearful goodbyes were exchanged in every corner of the station. Then coming from right behind, her aunt bumped into her back and made a small “oof” sound.
“Alright, here we are. On the train with you.” She placed a hand on her niece's upper back and led her to an opening in the Hogwarts Express.
“Wait!” Y/N yelled before turning around and looking up at her aunt with big glassy eyes.
Maybe she was afraid after all.
“I’m scared.” She whimpered. Y/N hated showing weakness but she was just so overwhelmed by all the colour and vibrancy around her. Even her trip to Diagon Alley the week earlier hadn’t had her so spooked. This time she was leaving, and for a long time at that.
Her aunt let out a sigh and crouched down, getting to the little girl's level, stroking one of her braided pigtails in one hand and holding her tiny hand in the other.
“You have nothing to fear Y/N. You are very brave and resilient and I am so proud of how far you’ve come in this short amount of time. Hogwarts will be your new home. You will make so many memories and long lasting friendships. I promise you.”
“Pinky?” Y/N asked. Her aunt smiled brightly, letting out a small chuckle before linking her pinky with her niece’s and kissing the tip of her own thumb, a little tradition that the two witches had formed over the years.
“Pinky.” She said before giving Y/N one last hug before helping her on to the train.
Then the whistle sounded, making Y/N’s heart almost jump out of her throat. She quickly turned around to look out the train door window that was now slammed shut. She saw her aunt still standing on the platform and placed her hand against the glass. Her aunt placed her hand over hers from the other side and the train lurched forward, almost as though the spark of family brought it to life, something almost as powerful as magic. Her aunt kept her hand glued in place and began to walk with the now moving train. As the train sped up, she finally let go and sent one final wave to her little witch in training.
With the station no longer in view, Y/N turned around and let out a substantial breath before walking down the hall of the train. Most compartments were full, so she trudged along, hoping to find an empty one where she could sit alone and fully take in everything that had occurred since her red sealed letter was dropped on to her lap by a screeching barn owl.
Unlucky for her, there seemed to be no empty compartments.
About to give up and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the trip, Y/N suddenly came across the two redhead twins she met earlier at Kings Cross Station. They laughed and rough housed, using the entire small space to their full advantage.
Needing to rest her tired legs, Y/N knocked on the frame of the sliding door.
The two boys looked up in unison, putting on display their creepy twinstincts.
“Hi, I don’t really know anyone and I was wondering if I could sit in here?”
“You’re the girl from the platform aren’t you?” One of them said with narrowed eyes, trying to place her.
“That’s right! It wasn’t so bad, was it?” Said the other. Y/N smiled, already feeling some of her worries dissipate away along with the train steam.
One of the twins moved to the other cushioned bench to sit beside his brother. This was so both boys could face the girl properly while chatting.
“I’m George and this is Fred.” One of them stated while the other smirked, a small wave along with it.
Y/N took a moment to examine the two. There was a certain devilish gleam that danced within their eyes. They were trouble. But a good kind of trouble.
“Are you sure you aren’t Fred and you aren’t George?” The twins smiled widely and let out a stream of laughs.
“Wicked.” They said together. It was the first time someone had outsmarted them when it came to their classic twin switch scheme.
And with that, the conversation just spiralled into a plethora of topics. The twins made her laugh, which was something that was very hard to do. These two were definitely keepers, she thought.
“Stick with us Y/N, we will keep you safe.” Fred said out of the blue. George nodded in agreement.
Things were beginning to look up for little Y/N L/N.
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good-forthe-weekend · 3 years
Text
a Gwynriel post
All of first. No, I am not interested in ship wars. As long as my dear sweet child spy Az ends up happy, idgaf who he ends up with, and will be happy if he ends up with either Gwyn or Elain, as long as both women get to have their own story told separate from Azriel.
But. I do think that Gwynriel is adorable, and have taken a preference to that ship over Elriel.
Please, for the love of christ, no hate. The block button is my friend. This is a ship drama free zone.
Anywhoozles. Gwynriel.
[Trigger warning: SA]
I mentioned in THIS post that I think it would be neat if we got a romance arc between Gwyn and Az that involved Gwyn wanting to take their relationship slow or focus on herself. I kinda wanted to just elaborate on that.
After seeing a tiktok (and a couple tumblr posts) about people being presumptuous with how they feel Gwyn will for sure feel about being in a relationship/having sex given her SA survivor status, I wanted to clear a couple things up, because my original wording is just vague enough to be a lil problematic.
I don’t want it to seem like I think Gwyn would respond to her assault any particular way. We simply don’t know enough about her to know exactly how she’d respond, and I agree that it’s problematic to assume. When I say that I think it would be cool for her to want to take the relationship slow, I mean the whole ass thing. Emotions too. She’s explicitly stated that she has a lot of trauma to work through outside of the SA. She has survivors guilt, self hatred issues, and doesn’t feel safe outside of the library (which, by the way, I hope we get an exploration of how traumatizing it must have been for Gwyn to be abducted the ONE TIME she decides to leave the library overnight).
We’ve had 2 romantic arcs that are entirely entwined with the respective heroines’ growth past trauma. I think it would be cool and different representation to show someone who says “Hey, I‘m in no shape to be tied to anyone right now. I care about you too much (and respect myself too much) to get into a relationship at this point in my recovery. Can we take this slow and be friends first?”
Not that you can’t be in a relationship if you’re not fully healed from trauma, but both of them have some pretty serious issues that *are* things that would block them from being able to love in a healthy way (ex. Self hatred, Gwyn not being able to live in the present, and Az not feeling worthy of love)
NOTE: I low key want this story to be more YA than NA (at least with regards to spice), to squeeze out a lot of angst from the story, and force the Horniest Bat Boy™ to analyze his feelings from a non-horny POV. Make him really think to himself “Is this lust, or love?” Not saying I don’t want sexual banter/tension, but it definitely for sure doesn‘t need to be Nessian level fae porn
I also think that she would bring up Mor and Elain (because of course this conversation happens AFTER the whole necklace comeuppance happens), and bring up that Az has his own shit to work through before trying to be in a healthy relationship.
“You haven’t been alone in 500 years. Not really. You pined after Morrigan for so long, carried a torch for her for all those years, and the only reason you let her go was to move on to a girl that looks exactly like her, but who wanted you. A girl that you knew you couldn’t have. And now I’m supposed to believe that you’re just....suddenly over it all? That you wanting to race into this relationship is anything more than trying to leverage our status as mates so you don’t have to be alone? I care for you, Azriel, and it’s because I care for you that I can’t jump into a relationship with you just like that, when both of us have healing to do.”
Az probably wouldn’t love being called out like that, but would ultimately agree, or at least acknowledge that he can’t force this. So he agrees. They need to work on themselves. And they set boundaries. Just friends, nothing more. (This is, of course, exactly like Nessian and Feysand saying they want ‘just sex’. It damns them to feeling like they need more)
It would also be so bittersweet if this happened *after* they realize they’re mates. For maximum yearning and angst potential.
Like...imagine. They realize they’re mates fairly early in the story, but decide to stay just friends for now. So we get half to two thirds of a book where they’re friends, trying desperately to resist this bond, and trying to respect each others’ boundaries, trying to heal so they can love each other right. But they’re also fighting against the mating bond, which is exacerbating the sexual tension that was already there.
Think of all the Pride and Prejudice level sexual tension we could get! I think it would be less in your face than Nessian’s tension ever was (shit, they were never subtle), but I think there’s a lot of potential for stolen glances with intense thoughts, glancing touches, hand flexes, aching for each others’ touch, innocent training related touches that are just SUPERCHARGED with intentions, all the good yearn-y stuff. (All inspired by the romance novels that Emerie and Nesta give her)
I also think this could play into THIS theory I had about evil!Elain. Here’s how I picture it:
Az and Gwyn realize they’re mates
After a discussion, they’ve agreed to take things slow and focus on their own respective mental health.
They have agreed to stay close friends for the time being, and to continue to train together (well, in the Valkyrie group), and to try to keep the whole mates thing quiet as they can for now, just so no one bothers them about it
The IC has no sense of boundaries though, and it gets out to them because of course it does. Gwyn probably told Nesta, who accidentally let it slip to Cas, who she threatened within an inch of his life to keep quiet about it. But of course he didn’t. He brought it up to Az, Rhys overheard, which of course means Feyre knows, and long story short, Elain hears about it.
When Elain hears, she FREAKS. Silently, of course, but she freaks nonetheless, which leads down the arc that I detailed in the post I linked above
Outside of that, Gwyn and Az grow.
Az puts in legwork to confront his demons, accept his past (both Mor related, and his family history. A confrontation with his mother would be impactful)
I’m not entirely sure how he would get there (if I figure it out, you KNOW I’ll post about it) but he does come to a point where he knows he wants Gwyn, and for the right reasons. He consciously chooses her.
Not saying he goes from 0 to fully healed, but he does enough legwork to be able to enter a relationship without it being doomed from the start
(This should totally involve him talking to Nesta, the queen of self destructive romantic behaviors, and a development of their budding bromance. He’s always been one of the only people to treat her like a person, not a weapon, a threat, or a nuisance/pest, and she’s always treated him with a softness most don’t afford him. She’s also canonically one of the only people not afraid of him and his shadows. They’re my bro-tp. No I will not be taking criticisms on this)
Gwyn, for her part, has been leaving the library more and more. For daytime outings to visit Nesta, Emerie, Azriel. To train Valkyries (I like to imagine that the Valkyries will get their own camp at some point, or at least space in Velaris to stay/train). To see Velaris.
I think it would be fun if she started to offer singing lessons like Feyre does painting lessons. Maybe she visits Nesta (who started offering dance lessons in Feyre’s newly expanded Velaris Center for Community Art), and Nesta convinced her that it might help her heal if she started to give back to the community and share her passion. (Bonus points if we get a scene where Az stumbles past and hears her singing to her students, and is just entranced by it)
She’s still taking advantage of the services the Library offers (it’s never explicitly stated, but I can only assume therapy is among those services), but she’s coming into her own, and starting to feel more comfortable outside the Library. Starting to heal. Starting to create a life in the present and move beyond her past. She’s starting to believe she deserves a bright future.
She’s also developing quite the friendship with Az. They quickly become best friends, confiding in each other, leaning on each other, joking together, generally being there for each other and bringing out the best in each other.
Az likes to bring Gwyn lunch/dinner in the library sometimes, Gwyn keeps track of when he’s away on spy business, and makes a point to visit him when he comes back, little things like that, that show they care about each other.
Clotho notices all of this, and brings it up to her at some point, telling her that she’s going to have to make the choice to leave at some point, and that she can’t keep straddling the line of living inside and outside the Library.
Gwyn shrugs it off, and continues living her life, thinking that she’ll be able to put it off for a while longer.
Cue Elain kidnapping Azriel.
Gwyn knows she has to go save him, but Clotho tells her that if she does this that she can no longer live in the Library. That she will always be welcome to visit, even to work as a scholar if she so chooses, but this mission will mark the end of the Library being her place of residence.
(I don’t know what reason Clotho would give Gwyn, but on the inside she’s doing this because she knows that Gwyn is ready to fly the coop, and needs that final push to have to acknowledge that she’s ready to leave. Clotho also knows about her and Az being mates, because of course she does. Clotho knows all.)
Of course, Gwyn leaves. She has to save Az. She loves him. He’s her best friend, her love, her soulmate. Her mate. It’s a very emotional moment, and also the perfect metaphor for her being able to leave behind her past to be able to live in the present and chase her future. It’s used to represent Gwyn choosing Azriel, if he’ll have her.
Bonus option: Gwyn takes Truthteller. Grabs the knife on her way to go save him. Doesn’t kill Elain with it, but does kill some guards with it on her way into where Elain has Az holed up.
After she saves Az, when they finally get a moment alone, Gwyn reveals that she needs to find a new home. She no longer lives in the Library.
There’s this tender moment where they bare their souls and basically agree to be together romantically and help each other heal.
They acknowledge that the idea of becoming entirely healed before a relationship isn’t wholly realistic or reasonable, and that they’re able to be together even if they’re still healing a bit.
Gwyn: I think....I think I’m ready to move forward. Catrin wouldn’t want me to keep living in my own shadow. She’d want me to live colorfully again, and be with the person I love. And I totally understand if you’re not there yet! I’m not trying to rush you or anything, I just want you to know that I’m ready for this. Whenever you‘re ready, I’ll be waiting for you with open arms, and an open, healing heart.
Az: *shakes head* I’m not sure I believe I deserve that, Gwyn. But gods if I don’t want to prove myself wrong. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, I can’t promise that we won’t stumble, or that I won’t retreat into my own mind sometimes. But I can promise that even if I do, I’ll still love you with my whole heart. A heart that’s only ever really belonged to you.
Basically, in my mind, their story would be super tender and sweet, and sexy in a much less brash way than Nessian, or even Feysand. Not that I don’t think there’s potential for these two to get kinky and sexy as FUCK once they’re together, but I just feel like their love story would be different. More innocent (at least in comparison to High Lord and Lady of Shaking The Mountain and Commander General/Goddess of Fucking In Common Areas) and more centered on their respective healing arcs, leading into them falling in love.
Like always, feel free to interact, add, tell me how wrong you think I am, etc. I’m desperate for people to talk to about these books. Just be respectful about it lol (and again, because it bears repeating, keep me out of ship wars)
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