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#why not kill two birds with one stone and keep him forever
justaz · 3 months
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country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing
merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that
gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him
merlin, with an Idea: ah.
gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?
merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel
arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:
merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up
merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing
merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire
arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:
arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:
merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me
arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.
merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?
arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil
merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?
arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.
merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.
merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important
sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding
merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??
leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?
merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????
leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?
merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????
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maple-the-awesome · 3 months
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Happy New Year! ||
Pairing: {Any} Link x Reader
Words: 923
Overview: It's New Years in Hyrule and you plan on finally living out one of the most famous holiday traditions. Here's a very last minute New Years piece that I decided to write within the last hour because I've done it for other characters before, so why can't it be Link's turn? Happy New Years everyone 🥳
Zelda Masterlist 🎉 Fandom Masterlist
You’re certain even the inhabitants of Death Mountain can hear the current celebrations taking place in Castle Town right now. If not, then the gorons of this kingdom must’ve invested in some pretty efficient earmuffs.
How anyone actually enjoys parties like this is beyond you. You can barely hear yourself think over the obnoxious shouting of the crowd, let alone enjoy the music being played by a band Hylia knows where. 
Is this street lined with cobble? Going off of what you remember from when you first arrived this morning, you think it is, but there’s no point in trying to confirm it now. It’s been forever since you’ve seen so many people in one spot, packed together like sardines that wear colorful hats and clothing, but you definitely don’t miss being tossed this way then that way by such obvious mobs. 
At least the night will be ending soon. Although you doubt that will put an end to this overwhelming party, it will give you the freedom to return to your comfortable room at the local inn which you PRAY is soundproof or else you’ll really be cranky tomorrow, but for now, you must blink away the sleep and continue on your path since there are far more important matters at hand than a good night’s sleep.
“Where are we going?” The question might as well be whispered during a storm. You don’t hear a word of it, your only hint towards its existence being the way Link’s lips move in the corner of your eyes. They’re turned upward in slight amusement as he follows after your swift pace. The only thing that’s keeping you from being separated into a wave of sweaty bodies is your tightly interlocked hands.
Around another corner, shoving past a drunk trio and into the first breath of fresh air you’ve had in the last four hours. It’s not necessarily ‘quiet’ with the festival only a few feet behind, but you suppose it will have to do. 
“What’s with that sour look?” Link pokes the corner of your lips, earning himself a swat and a misdirected glare; a consequence of your disappointed pout.
“...This isn’t what I had in mind.”
“And what is it that you had in mind?” He raises an eyebrow teasingly, his grin growing naturally when you cross your arms while tapping your foot like a frustrated rabbit.
“I-I don’t know. A garden filled with roses. A lone fountain sprouting glittering, moonlit water - Something more romantic than this!” You gesture ahead to the narrow alley which is filled with only discarded boxes and untouched by any moonlight due to its position between two tall buildings.
“At least it doesn’t smell,” Link points out, but your scrunch up nose tells him that his optimism isn’t helping much, so he wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you against his side where you stubbornly stand with mocked annoyance written all over your face.
“...I suppose it will have to do,” You eventually sigh, leaning your head against him yet keeping your arms crossed as emphasis that you don’t really care for this ‘compromise’. You just don’t want to venture back into that crowd nor do you have the time for it, “...A garden would’ve been much better, though.”
“Agreed.” 
“You must be wondering why I’ve dragged you here.”
“To escape further social interaction?”
“No - Well yes, but that was only an added benefit; a type of ‘kill two birds with one stone’ situation. What I really brought you here for is tradition,” You pivot your body so that you can stand in front of him. 
Almost automatically, he fixes both of his arms around you, keeping them low against your hips as he watches you straighten his tunic, “Tradition? What kind?”
You hum and take your time in answering him,  “...It’s tradition in my world to share a kiss at the stroke of midnight during the New Year. Supposedly it brings good luck or something like that. I’ve never done it with anyone before, but you seem like a decent fellow; I’ll take any good excuse to kiss you.”
“That so?” Link chuckles, gently lifting your chin to look up at him.
You merely nod. Out on the street, you can hear the crowd’s voices begin to fall in sync until they form one joyful rhythm and familiar countdown. Leaning closer, you let your breath fan Link’s lips, your flirtatious smirks a mirror of each other’s, “One kiss for a year of good luck. A worthwhile trade, wouldn’t you say?”
Moments ago, you were forced to walk through a town of drunk people who had forgotten how to behave in public, so it’s surprising how well they all suddenly know how to count: 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…
“Fool. You know I don’t need any reason to kiss you,” Link whispers, meeting his lips to yours which acts as the perfect distraction that pulls you away from the eruption of shouts and crackling fireworks that shake Castle Town to its core. What was once so difficult to drown out is officially mute against your ears as you wrap your arms over Link’s shoulders and allow him to dip you into the kiss that molds both of your smiles together.
"Does that make up for the lack of romantic settling?" He pulls away only enough to ask his question, each movement of his lips brushing yours.
"Very much so," With that, you pull him back in for another kiss, after all, who said you'd have to stop after midnight?
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Do you think about me?
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AN: I was originally going to post a Felix fic for Valentine's Day, but I realised I haven't posted any fics about Seungmin yet, and this was the perfect time. Kill two birds with one stone. I do have a softer Seungmin fic in my drafts, but I chose violence because I don't love myself obviously lol. Happy Valentine's Day!
Synopsis: Seungmin is the guy you told your ex-boyfriend not to worry about. Turns out he had reasons to be concerned after all.
Heads up: Kim Seungmin x Fem! Reader, friends to friends who fuck/potentially lovers , some angst pertaining to Reader's previous relationship with Chris, Seungmin being a menace, dirty talk, hair pulling, mild biting (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), degradation (f. receiving), mild edging (f. receiving), slight dacryphilia, unprotected piv sex, Seungmin being a bit of a douche and slandering Ex! Chris, Possessive! Seungmin, implied breeding kink (it's not stated outright but, it's definitely there) and creampie.
I will block you if you are minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.
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"You look terrible," Seungmin comments when you let him into your apartment, making himself at home on your couch.
"Wow, thanks. It's nice to see you too Seungmin and, Happy Valentine's Day," you respond dryly, shutting your door and trying to remember why you let him into your home in the first place. You'd much rather continue to wallow in solitude.
"It's true. Go take a shower and change while I get us some food. You've been moping for long enough, and you need to come back to the land of the living," he says, not missing a beat and opening up a food delivery app as though you'd just go along with him.
"It's been two weeks. I think I reserve the right to still be sad about Chris," you say, your heart clenching uncomfortably at the mention of your ex-boyfriend's name. At least you're not crying anymore. That's progress.
"Sure, but you can't just keep yourself locked up in your apartment forever. Also, shower. Now. We'll talk when you're finished," he says, glancing up at you and leaving you with no room to argue with him. Seungmin always seemed to know just how to get you to listen to whatever he said. It's really aggravating.
"Fine," you sigh in defeat, trudging your way towards your bathroom and choosing to ignore the triumphant smirk you know is on his face right now.
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You try to steady your breath as the warm water from your shower head washes over you. You'd never give him the satisfaction but, Seungmin was right. A shower definitely made you feel significantly better.
When you step out and take a look in the mirror, you're startled by your appearance. You look like a ghost of yourself. You probably looked worse before taking a shower and actually doing some skincare, but you still can't help how caught off guard you are by how unlike yourself you look. However, making yourself feel worse isn't productive.
You opt to start getting dressed after moisturising your skin, throwing on an oversized shirt without a bra and shorts. Pointedly ignoring your reflection this time around, you leave your bathroom feeling better than you have in admittedly a long time.
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"There she is," Seungmin says when you come into view, a genuine smile painting his face. Your mouth waters when the smell of the food he ordered wafts over to you, luring you towards your coffee table where Seungmin spread it all out.
"What did you get?" You ask, settling beside him. Your eyes taking in the various dishes in front of you, saliva pooling in your mouth.
"Comfort foods. Dig in," is all he says in response, grabbing a dish filled with what looks like rice cakes. You don't notice his careful gaze watching you as you grab a few slices of pizza for yourself and eat away, his eyes softening considerably.
A comfortable silence fills the space between the two of you as it always does. You'd be lying if you said you didn't appreciate him being here. Your apartment had been lonely the past few weeks, and having someone here feels... nice.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks quietly, his eyes meeting your surprised ones. Seungmin isn't pushy and invasive usually. You know he's happily drop it if you said no, but talking about it might help, and you know he'd listen. Really listen.
"We just... I think we just wanted different things. I think we're both in different stages of our lives, and it wouldn't have been fair to make the other wait. It was mostly mutual but, it still sucks, you know?" You say softly, swallowing around the lump you can feel building in your throat.
Seungmin pulls you into a hug before you realise what's happening. Strong and supportive and just there. You return his embrace, food forgotten on your table as you try your best not to completely fall apart. It's been so long since someone else has touched you. You close your eyes as you let his warmth and scent wash over you, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just thought it might help," he mutters against your ear, his breath making a shudder involuntarily run down your spine. It takes a moment for you to steady yourself, "No, it's okay. That's the gist of it, really. He'd get a little jealous sometimes too but, it wasn't the biggest problem we had."
"Jealous? Why? You were nothing but loyal to him," he responds, confusion clear as day in his voice.
You could never lie to Seungmin even if you tried.
"He was jealous of you. Of us. The friendship we have," warmth filling your face as the confession spills out of you.
Seungmin pulls back then, his warm, wide eyes meeting yours as his hands rest on your shoulders, "Jealous of me?"
"Yeah, I mean even Jisung always makes jokes about how the two of us are closer than most. I think it got too much for Chris,"
"Jisung's an idiot," he retorts with a roll of his eyes, and you actually laugh. You can't remember the last time anything or anyone managed to get even a chuckle out of you.
"You're not wrong there, but my point still stands. I think you made him feel threatened, in a sense," you say, and an unreadable expression crosses his face. He seemed to be contemplating something.
"Were his feelings unfounded?"
It's your turn to be surprised because Seungmin's question catches you completely off guard.
"What?"
"Did he have a reason to feel threatened?" He asks with so much seriousness that you don't know what to say for a few beats, your mind totally blank. Seungmin is a good friend. You care about him deeply. You also recognise that he's kind, funny, great to banter with and attractive, but you've managed to keep those thoughts mostly to yourself over the years. Or at least you think you have. Maybe Chris caught onto them more than you realised.
"The look on your face is telling me maybe his feelings weren't unwarranted,"
His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. The small, smug uptick of the corners of his lips is both irritating and unnecessarily attractive. "No- I- I would've never done that to Chris."
"I know you wouldn't have, and I think he knew that too, but I think your hesitance to even answer my question is pretty telling," he says, his eyes taking on a knowing gleam.
You flounder with your words once more, denial at the implications Seungmin is making hot on your tongue, but you know you'd be lying.
"I'm flattered, really," he says, far too amused with how flustered you are and privately just relieved to see signs of the old you.
"You're so annoying," you huff, lightly shoving his chest with your hand and rolling your eyes to distract yourself from the tension you feel in the air. It's probably all in your mind anyways.
"Yeah, and you want me," he retorts with a full-blown smirk this time around, his usually warm eyes taking on a more mischievous glint. All you can do is stare at him. Kim Seungmin leaving you speechless at his audacity.
It's made all the more worse because he's not wrong.
Your heart rate picks up considerably when one of his hands moves to cup your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing your bottom lip as he watches the movement intently. He looks like he wants to eat you alive.
"I can't say your feelings aren't reciprocated," he mutters lowly, the drop in his voice making your insides clench around nothing. Embarrassment running through you at how easily he manages to effect you.
"I- huh?" Is all your murky mind can manage to come up with at the moment. Resisting the intrusive thought to just take his thumb in your mouth.
The grin he gives you is mean and condescending, not the typical smile you've come to know and expect from your friend. It only makes the ache so much worse. He let's out an amused, throaty chuckle before speaking, "Do I really have to spell it out for you? I want you too."
Seungmin seems to be trying his utmost to make your heart stop beating in your chest today.
"But, I need to know you're okay with this. Actually okay with this. I would never take advantage of you when you're vulnerable. I care about you too much to do that. If you say no, we can stop right now and pretend this never-"
You cut him off with a kiss to his pretty lips. Pouring years' worth of want and frustration into it, your hands desperately pulling him towards you and swallowing his startled noise. The kiss is messy and uncoordinated, but you can't bring yourself to really care when you finally have him like this.
One of Seungmin's hands weaves its way into your hair, giving it a slight tug and grinning against your lips when you gasp at the sting. Taking the opportunity to lick into your mouth while his other hand runs along your waist, toying with the bottom of your shirt. You barely have a chance to breathe, let alone think with how thoroughly he's kissing you.
Eventually, oxygen does become a necessity, but he doesn't relent. Moving from your likely bruised lips and kissing along your neck, his teeth occasionally grazing the skin there in a way that makes you melt further into him.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," he utters against your skin, pressing his teeth a little harder against a weak spot he found during his exploration. His hand ghosting over one of your breasts, stilling the air in your lungs. Between his words and his ministrations, trying to remember how to speak is becoming increasingly more challenging.
"I've wanted you for s-so long too," you breathe, too wound up to care about bearing so much to him at once. Your response seems to shatter whatever fragile resolve Seungmin had because you soon find yourself on your back. His hands impatiently shoving your shirt up as his mouth finds yours once more.
He swallows the mewls you let out against him as his hands touch your breasts for the first time. Giving them experimental squeezes to gauge your reaction. You find yourself arching into him when his fingers toy with your sensitive nipples, a gasp flying from your mouth when he gives them a particularly hard pinch.
"I didn't think you'd be such a masochist," he muses, licking at your throat once more as his fingers and hands toy with your tits to his hearts content. His hardening cock pressing against you through your flimsy shorts.
"I didn't think you'd be such a menace," you fire back, but the breathlessness in your voice dispels any potential venom in your tone. You cry out when he bites down on your neck harder than before. Not enough for it to really hurt, but the little pain it provides is enough to worsen the sticky mess in your panties and, you involuntarily grind yourself against his sweatpants covered cock.
"You have no idea what I'm capable of. This is nothing," you're not sure if that's a promise of things to come or a threat, but either way, you're not complaining. Before you can think to retort, his hot, wet mouth envelopes one of your nipples. Licking and sucking at the sensitive nub in a way that makes your toes curl. All of this is only worsened by one of his hands slowly trailing down your body, fingertips lightly grazing your abdomen until they reach the top of your shorts.
But because Seungmin seems to enjoy seeing you suffer, his hand stills there. Toying with the waistband of your shorts and every brush of his fingers making the ache you've been feeling for what seems like ages more unbearable.
"Seungmin," you whine, thrusting your hips up towards him in search of any sort of relief, your hands tugging on his hair desperately. The pop that rings out when he releases your nipple borders on obscene, his eyes alight with desire and mischief once more.
"Yes?" He asks, sounding far too pleased with himself as his fingertips trace featherlight patterns just above your shorts.
It takes everything in you not to huff in frustration at this incredibly aggravating man, but you have a feeling that would just emboldened him. "Please touch me," you beg barely above a whisper, the throbbing between your thighs currently more of a priority than your ego.
"I am touching you," he retorts, pressing kisses to the tops of both of your breasts to prove his point and snapping the waistband of your shorts against your skin.
You might actually hate him.
"No- I mean, please touch me here," you respond, grabbing his hand and sliding it down the front of your shorts until his fingers brush your more than likely ruined panties.
You can't help the smugness you feel when you see the ever composed and teasing Kim Seungmin falter for once. His lips parting and eyes becoming lidded when his fingers experimentally touch you, taking in just how wet you already are.
The unadulterated want on his face makes him look more attractive somehow. A strangled gasp flies from your lips when his fingers run along your clothed slit, hips twitching into his touch at each brush of his calloused fingers on your swollen clit.
"You're soaked already," he groans against your skin, sweat dotting his forehead and making his hair stick to it as he meets your gaze. His fingers continue to touch and brush and run along you in a way that quickly drives you to madness.
"Seungmin, please. It hurts. I want your fingers inside me please please plea -" your begging is cut off by two of his fingers pushing your panties to the side and sinking into you to the knuckle, his lips finding yours again and leaving your mind spinning.
His fingers stretch you out in a way you haven't felt in some time. Your own not nearly as long and thick as his. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull when he starts moving, curling them inside of you in a way that makes an embarrassing high-pitched keen spill from your lips that's he's more than happy to swallow.
"So fucking wet and tight," he groans, increasing the speed of his fingers when it seems like you've adjusted to the stretch. His fingers quickly finding that spot inside of you that results in your walls gripping his fingers harshly because of fucking course he would. He just had to be good at everything. He opts to continue kissing and licking and nipping at your neck as he fucks you brainless on his fingers. All you can do is lie there and take it, moans and mewls and keens mixed with incoherent words all you're able to offer in return. Your hands moving in a frenzy. Unsure of whether they want to tug on his hair or grip his shirt to steady yourself.
"Are you gonna cum just from my fingers already? Isn't that a little too pathetic, y/n?" He asks against the shell of your ear, the harsh tone of his voice making you gush on his fingers more.
"Oh, you like it when I'm mean. Aren't you a cute, little, brainless slut," he groans, tugging your lobe with his teeth as his thumb presses against your clit. His body keeping you in place as your body bucks against him at the sensation, crying out when he rubs hard circles against the hypersensitive nub.
Your orgasm is so close that you can practically taste it. Sparks building at the base of your spine and spreading throughout your body as Seungmin's fingers, mouth and words push you closer and closer and closer to the edge.
Which is why it hurts all the more when Seungmin abruptly stops and pulls his fingers out from inside of you. Your eyes fly open, and you meet his dark ones, a devilish grin spread across his face as he leans away from you. Sadistic pleasure coursing through his veins as he takes in your dishevelled state.
The tears build in your eyes make his cock throb, "Seungmin, why- why'd you stop? I was close," you ask and the whiney edge to your voice tempts him to sink his cock into you right then and there.
"I'd much rather feel you cum on my dick," is all the answer you receive. Complaints dying on your lips as Seungmin tugs off his shirt impatiently, your hunger eyes taking in his bare torso as he makes quick work of his boxers and sweats as well. Seeing him completely naked infront of you makes you realise just how empty you are, panting like an animal in heat at the sight of his long, flushed cock smearing pre-cum against his tense abdomen.
"Well, what're you waiting for?" He asked with a raised eyebrow like you're a moron. It takes you a moment to catch on to what he means, your own hands tug off your skewed, ruined clothing in record time. Seungmin takes a moment to admire you spread out before him. Thighs parted and, your pussy swollen and leaking with arousal all for him. His cock pulses as he takes it in his hand and slowly runs his tip along your slit, the corners of his mouth lifting up when your hips buck up into him everytime he brushes your clit or teases your entrance like he'll sink in any minute now.
You think he might just make you lose your mind.
"Seungmin, please," you beg so desperately that your voice cracks in the process, but you couldn't care less. Nothing but, the desire to cum or feel him inside of you or, both really, taking over.
"Since my needy slut asked so nicely," he responds, pushing the head of his cock inside of you. Both of you moan at the feeling, Seungmin gritting his teeth as he pushes inch after inch inside of his cock into your tight, hot pussy. His forehead rests against your shoulder when he finally bottoms out, your quiet mewls and his harsh breathing being the only sounds heard in your living room.
Your nails dig into his back when he gradually starts moving, his cock hitting spots inside of you that render you borderline delirious. "You're so fucking ah tight," he rumbles against your throat, grabbing your thigh and angling your leg over his hip in a way that makes him slide impossibly deeper.
"Seungmin, yo-you feel so good. So de-deep," you babble out, a few stray tears falling down your face as he picks up speed, his balls slapping harshly against your ass with each one of his thrusts and his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin of your neck.
"Yeah? Is my little cockslut already going stupid on my cock?" You noticed it earlier but, the possessive edge to his voice makes you clench around his cock harder. All you're able to do in response is whine and moan, nodding your head in an attempt to answer his question.
"Aren't you cute and pathetic," he breathes unsteadily against your skin, groaning at the way your walls try their best to get him to cum. "Didn't take you long to let me fuck you, did it? How long have you fantasised about this?"
Shame intertwined with arousal knots in your gut because he's right. It didn't take him long at all to have you spreading your thighs for him. You're honestly amazed that he can speak coherently right now. Your own cognitive abilities failing you as you try to muster up words to answer him.
One of his hands grips your jaw once more and forces you to meet his intimidating gaze, his cock stilling inside of you completely.
"I asked you a question. I expect an answer," god, the commanding tone in his voice really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.
"I-I've thought a-about you um like thi-this since we f-first met," you manage to stutter out, trying your hardest to focus with him nestled so deeply inside of you.
"So, it seems like you can speak," he says, resuming his unrelenting fucking into as though it's nothing. You can feel your orgasm building once more, hoping against hope that he'll let you finally cum this time around. You're not sure what you might do if he doesn't.
"That long, huh? You should've said something. I would've happily fucked you dumb on my cock a long time ago. No wonder Chris was jealous," he muses, but hearing Chris's names throws you for a second, surprise colouring your face.
"Oh, come on, y/n. Don't give me that look. We both know that you were thinking about every time he so much as touched you. I bet you touched yourself to thoughts of me too" he whispers into your ear, his hand moving between your bodies until his fingers eventually find your clit. He wastes no time in rubbing fast circles against you, low groans filling your ear as you clench and gush around him.
Even if you could respond, you're not sure what you would say. Seungmin's sheer nerve leaving utterly speechless. Fortunately for you, your orgasm slams into you before your mind can dwell too much on the jarring accuracy of his words. Your hands cling to his broad shoulders for purchase. Your body convulsing harshly underneath his as he continues to fuck you through your mind numbing release.
"Fuck," he moans, lidded eyes taking in your purely blissed out expression and his hands flying to your thighs as he chases his own climax.
"Your pretty pussy is gonna make me cum, baby. Gonna fill you up with my ah cum. Fu-fuck, gonna cum inside you. Make you take it all," he groans deliriously, picking up speed even more all while the obscene sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against skin rings out. "My good girl. My cumslut ah fuck," is the only warning you receive before he stills inside of you to the hilt. Moans and curses spilling from his mouth as his hot, thick cum paints your walls white. His hips jerking against yours from time to time as he rides out his release.
The two of you catch your respective breaths. The sticky mixture of your climaxes slowly leaking out of you but, you're still too hazy and thoroughly rung out to bring yourself to care at the moment. Your fingers playing with the ends of Seungmin's hair as he plants soft kisses against your shoulder and collarbone.
"Hey,"
"Mmhmm?"
"Happy Valentine's Day," if anyone asks, your heart definitely does not stutter in your chest at the smile he gives you after wishing you a happy Valentine's Day. Not at all.
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binkszamsstuff · 3 months
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Cindy Lou who
I know it’s past Christmas but life got in the way of me editing this fic so pretend it’s Christmas Day still okay? Sorry 🩵❄️🎅 merry Christmas and happy holidays! I’ll see you in the new year!
Warnings:angst, kissing, Bucky and reader are idiots this fic is safe for work but I’m putting this ⬇️ here because my blog is strictly no minors! 🔞
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“Wow plum look at you go!” Bucky laughed as you almost hit a rail skating too fast to come to an easy stop.
Just as you got your balance back and stopped laughing at your clumsyness you looked up to see Bucky on his phone again. Lately, for the past two months, bucky has been possessive of his phone and always on it. Smiling at it too. It made you uneasy, Bucky had had plenty of girlfriends in the past but he was always present when hanging out with you. You had lightly asked him last week if he was seeing anyone, he didn't hear you the first time because he was on his phone.
“W-whatcha’ you say plum?”
“I asked if you were seeing anyone, you’re constantly on your phone” you repeated
“No, what? no! why would you think that? You’re my best friend you know i wouldn't hide anything like that from you” james spoke nonchalantly, he patted your head like a child right before he went back to smiling at his phone and texting.
It worried you. This year after ice skating you and him were gonna go get dinner (this usually isn’t a part of your tradition) you wanted to admit your feelings for him tonight but his recent behavior had you second guessing, for one he was always on his phone texting and he sure as hell doesn't look like a giddy school girl from texting sam or steve, and secondly when you asked him if he wanted to go to dinner afterward he was suspiciously happy. He said that it was great that you asked actually because he could “kill two birds with one stone” When you asked him what he meant he brushed you off and now he’s saying he has a surprise.
You had a feeling that he was seeing a girl and you hoped and prayed that you were wrong but the way he was acting proved you right, but you tried to take his word for it because he was Bucky your best friend and he would never lie to you. Right?
Wrong. As you walked into the small restaurant bucky’s smile grew 10 times wider, he waved to a blonde girl sitting at a four-person table. He walked over to her you followed a desperate feeling coming over you where you wished this wasn't what you thought it was. ‘No not tonight! the night I was going to confess my undying love for you no. bucky why?! Why do you have to be a stupid man?’ you thought.
She stood out of her seat he put his hand on her lower waist, lower than a friend would. She pecked his lips. You noticed everything he did or didn't do, you watched as your personal hell ripped itself into the small restaurant.
“y/n this is Polly, my girlfriend,” Bucky said him and her still standing in front of you. You wanted to cry and run away, she was perfect the opposite of everything that made you. You stared in shock.
“Uh um, h-hi im y/n” you swallowed thickly after speaking. You hated yourself you should have listened to your gut.
Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't expect your reaction to be so flat. He thought you would be so happy but now you looked pale and uncomfortable.
“It's too nice to meet you y/n I've heard so much about you” Oh god she was nice too!
The three of you sat, you wanted to puke.
“I thought you weren't seeing anyone bucky?” you asked shakily
“Well, bucky and I wanted to keep it a secret. We just wanted to live in our little bubble for longer ya know” she answered for him
“How long have you two been together?” you asked, anger creeping in towards yourself and Bucky. Yourself forever thinking Bucky could love and him for lying.
“Two and a half months” she answered again. you abruptly pushed your chair out from under the table you hadn't even taken off your coat but you felt cold like you were dying in the North Pole. You grabbed your coat in a haste. Bucky's confused eyes follow you.
“Hey! Hey y/n what are you doing?” he asked as you walked towards the exit you didn't respond. You felt humiliated and heartbroken. ‘God the man I've loved like a fool for seven years! How could I be so stupid!’ you though to yourself
“y/n get back here! Whats wrong with you?!” Bucky yelled after you while he tried to catch up with you as you walked down the street. Finally, he did, he grabbed your arm yanking you around to face him.
“What the hells matter with you?!” he said angry now too.
“I have to leave! I-i cant be friends with you anymore!” you screamed
Bucky's face dropped “Wh-what why?” he said confused and sad.
“B-because I-I just can’t okay!”
“Bullshit tell me. Now!” he demanded
“I-I’m in love with you okay!?”
“What!”
“I invited you to dinner tonight because i wanted to confess my feeling an- it doesn’t matter anymore okay. You have a girlfriend an-and she seems so lovely and im sorry that i made her uncomfortable i-i need to leave.” you said
“How long?” his tone stoic and hard, he wouldn’t let you go
“Since high school b-but i didnt realize what my feelings for you were until this past summer when we went on our trip to the ocean” you whispered ashamed.
“I-i dont know what to say” you broke his hold walking away as fast as you could. Tears finally falling. He didn’t need to say anything because you already knew he didn’t hold the same feelings you did for him.
“Wait wait y/n” you were gone.
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December 21st
You got on a flight back home for the holidays usually you would take this flight home with bucky but you couldnt face him. He called and texted you all night, but the pain and embarrassment was to much.
The flight was horrible and your mom picking you up from the airport was spent listening to her cheer on and on about how bucky had a new girlfriend. Your familes were very close.
You wanted to the ground to suck you under itself.
Sitting in your mom’s livling room while your family and buckys talked and laughed was awful. You could feel his sorrowful looks on your skin and thats what really ate you alive. After some point of faking smiles you went up to you old bedroom. It was just like you left it last year and before you left to explore the world with bucky. The laughs you and him had in your old room made you tear up. When you used to get sad or when his parents fought he would climb in your window in the middle of the night. You two would watch movies, cuddle one another whichever one of you who needed the comfort. Just two kids trying to find peace in the world they share with everyone but also their own. the two of you cheering eachother up. As you looked back you scoffed towards yourself for being so stupid because how could you not tell you were selfishly in love him? Holding him while he cried or when he was angry, cuddling while watching movies or playing bored games in secret so your parents wouldn’t find out. The shorting pain in your chest when he would introduce you to one of his new girlfriends was not normal friend behavior.
Then tears fell as you sat on your bed holding a pillow to your chest. You hated that you ruined your friendship, you hated yourself for thinking bucky, the play boy who got women who looked like models could ever love you back. You beat yourself up for not shutting up and sitting through that stupid dinner and at least being ale to keep him in some way even if its just as a friend it would be better than nothing.
Just as yout thoughts of self hatred were stacking up bucky walked in.
“What are you doing in here?” you asked trying to swipe you tears away before he could see them
He sat at the foot of your bed looking at you. “Hey hey, plum,” he reached forward bringing your hands into his “you never have to hide from me”
“I-im so so sorry bucky. You must hate me” you cried
“How could i hate the girl im in love with?” he brought his hand to cup your wet cheek lifting up your face so your eyes could meet his.
“ no no” you shook your head refusing to believe him. 
“Ive been hiding my feelings for a lot longer then you plum” he chuckled sadly. “i ruined the dinner you planned it was stupid of me to surprise you with me having a girlfriend. Every girl ive ever been with as always been me trying to distract myself from not being able to be with you. I thought i wouldnt have a chance with you in a million years, i thought having you as a friend was all i was going to get and thats better then not having you at all so i never told you and last night was was the best night and the worst night of my life because i found out that you loved me and i hurt you. Last night i broke up with polly. I only want you plum, i love you too”
You pulled bucky into a kiss, it was soft, new, it held every word the two of you have ever wanted to say to each other but thought you couldnt. It was love.
“I love you bucky”
“I love you too plum” bucky smiled pulling you back into a kiss.
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se7ens-oc-heaven · 6 months
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Fun tip from your local oc hoarder: if you have old ocs or concepts that never went anywhere, didn't quite grab you, just didn't quite work - re-insert them into the world as the npcs. The background character. The side cast.
And here's why, in a nutshell - it'll help your world feel more cohesive, to you and to anyone seeing it.
Yeah, sure, you can hastily slap together a bland shopkeep during a shopping scene, or slip in generic fan designs at a concert. But if you have someone Established, specific, someone who doesn't Have to reoccur, buuuuut... maybe the main characters always go into the store during so-and-so's friday shifts, or maybe you have concert scenes frequently enough that you'd start picking out the same fans who always attend for their favorite band... Adds to how natural it all feels, you know?
Does it have to be an old oc? Can't it be someone made to fit, I hear you ask? Well, sure! And obviously if you only have one or two ocs that aren't active, you'll have to anyways. But it's a two birds with one stone exercise - because now you've streamlined your process for having an established npc. You already have an idea of how that old oc looks, or talks, or acts. You may already know what setting they'd likely frequent, or even miscellany like what music they like or hobbies they have. Your generic npc doesn't have to have speaking lines or relevance - but if they needed to or you wanted them to, now they can. They'll have substance that keeps things from feeling too flat.
And idk, obviously some people don't pay much attention to things like that - but I've found that it makes a huge difference to me even when I hadn't realized it. It adds some extra depth to the world in small ways, that you may or may not ever use, but that way it's already built in. No scrambling or extra work to project traits onto some faceless character who talks to your protag about musicians for one scene.
This is also helpful for subverting "kill your darlings" a bit, for those who struggle a lot with that concept in their writing and worldbuilding - because for me, my problem tends to be that it's not that the darling is Entirely Pointless, it's just that they aren't a good fit. Killing a really good idea and banishing it to the drafts forever can suck. But learning how to Recycle the darling helps keep it in relevance, but by plugging it in to a better purpose than the original draft. That makes it easier to cut ideas out of my writing - because I can rest easy knowing I have it in reserve for its time to shine elsewhere.
I'd imagine this won't work for everyone, but I've found as I work on my hero story that it's added a lot of joy. Characters who fell to the sidelines or into obscurity simply because they weren't cut out for hero business now have time to shine in other small ways.
I have a girl who realistically will end up just being a background jogger. But she's also on a track team, and likes handmaking pottery in her spare time. I have a guy with weather powers, but he's focused pursuing being a talented violinist, with minimal active involvement in the hero business beyond happening to have heroes who are fans of his work.
Heck, one of my favorite characters is a duo of guys sharing a body that are just waiters at the local diner. One of them can reverse gravity or even practically rewind time with the snap of his finger if he so chose. These are powers that he studies endlessly for so he can hone and refine them better. But all he cares about is protecting his family and friends, so all you typically see him use his powers for is preventing glasses from being broken or saving his crush from tripping.
It makes me happy to see my kids just going about their day, filling a role in the background. Will they be more relevant? It's possible! But even if they aren't, there will always be glimpses - of the redhead jogging down the street, of someone in the middle of listening to a track from a classical violinist, of a waiter effortlessly stopping plates from being dropped in the middle of taking an order - all in the backdrop of whatever panel or scene or what have you that comes up.
It helps it all feel more like a world everyone belongs in, rather than a staged play. You know? And it's a very fulfilling feeling for me, both as author and as reader.
So yeah. Don't be afraid to recycle those old ocs. Tweak or streamline them if you need, but if you hold them even a little dear to your heart and can get them to click, I promise you won't regret it.
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sapphire-weapon · 7 months
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Hi! Sorry if this counts as shitstirring... But you got me thinking... Do you really think that someone really needs to play the games in order to fully understand the story? Or is watching them and reading up on them enough? Thanks, and sorry!!!
Don't be sorry. This is a valid question that deserves an honest answer.
There's nuance to this. This isn't just a simple "yes or no" question.
Do I think that you need to play the games to understand the story? No, I don't. Resident Evil's story is not difficult (though, you'd never know that, looking at the fandom). It's very easy to watch the games and movies, go "ok I got it", and move on.
Do I think that you need to play the games to be considered an authority on the canon? 100%, absolutely. And I'll tell you why.
We spend a lot of time talking about narrative direction and storytelling devices and the use of tropes and cinematography here on this blog, but the one thing that we really need to keep in mind at all times is that Resident Evil is a game first and a story second. This has been the design philosophy since the series's conception. This is why RE4 OG's story was slapped together in three weeks. This is why RE5 was the way that it was. This is why RE7 is what RE7 turned out to be.
The narrative of Resident Evil is not something that exists separately or divorced from its gameplay. In fact, the opposite is true. RE's story is not only influenced by its gameplay, it actually -- in some cases -- is directly written as a result of its gameplay.
I've talked about the story behind RE4's development before, but.
Was RE6's story borderline incomprehensible, and did it jump approximately sixteen sharks? Yes. Was that the main reason why RE6 failed? Absolutely fucking not. Not even close.
RE6 turned out the way that it did because RE6 was developed and released during a time in which the biggest moneymakers in the AAA game space were brown & bloom multiplayer shooters. Capcom wanted in on that gravy train.
RE5 sought to take the award-winning formula that RE4 developed and add a multiplayer element to it in order to initially chase that trend, and RE5 for a very long time was the highest-selling Resident Evil title ever made.
Capcom looked at that and took it to mean that it was RE5's added multiplayer element that made it so successful. They weren't exactly wrong, either. RE5, for a lot of people, was like a version of RE4 that you could play with your friends.
Wesker was not killed in RE5 because Capcom thought it was an appropriate time narratively to kill him. Wesker's death was a symbolic one -- it was the death of the "old" Resident Evil -- the death of the slow, plodding, single player experience that the entire AAA industry had convinced themselves was no longer viable monetarily and not what players wanted. This was especially true for RE, after the unprecedented success of the more action-focused RE4 changed the entire third person shooter genre forever.
By the time we reach RE6, Capcom is all on on this. Three campaigns, all with co-op, all of which play differently. Chris's story is what Chris's story is in RE6 because Capcom knew that most players were probably going to reach for his campaign first, considering he was the protagonist of the most recent release and, therefore, the most recognizable to players who maybe weren't necessarily super familiar with RE. They specifically wanted Chris's campaign to feel like a traditional third person shooter in order to get new players hooked, because Capcom was convinced that that's what a majority of gamers at the time in general wanted.
Leon's story is what Leon's story is in RE6 because it was designed specifically to cater to people who loved RE4 and would reach for him first over Chris. So, they gave Leon a female partner (Helena in place of Ashley) and a slower, more traditional horror setting (while still being action-oriented), and they tried to kill two birds with one stone by having Ada running around and also being the damsel in distress, so to speak, to replicate the "save the princess" plotline from RE4.
But the biggest issue with all of this was that it turned the design philosophy of the game into "how can we sell this?" over trying to just make a good horror game -- and it showed. Capcom cut a hell of a lot of corners in terms of pacing and level design and enemy design and enemy variety in favor of focusing on the combat system (which was never adequately explained and had its nuances lost on approximately 80% of the playerbase), the netcode, and making the game's story as easy to consume and digest as possible while chasing specific market trends.
RE6 didn't go super hard on Aeon because the writing staff was just so ~dedicated to the ship~. RE6 went hard on Aeon because they wanted Leon to look heroic and save the girl just like he did in RE4 but didn't want to create another Ashley after how universally hated she was. Knowing that is how I say so confidently that Remake is retconning Aeon -- it's because the ship itself was never the point. They used it as a gameplay contrivance that they thought would help sell RE6, and it blew up in their faces. So now they're trying something new.
The actual experience of playing Resident Evil 6 was downright miserable to a vast majority of the fanbase because it was a soulless, hackneyed mess that didn't even have the decency to bother giving itself a spooky atmosphere. It was an uninspired series of long hallways filled with bullet sponge enemies and literally nothing else.
So, when the story was stupid and fan favorites like Leon felt like they got screwed over on top of all of that because the same design philosophy of "make this as mass marketable as possible" bled into the story from the gameplay, that was just the shit icing on the shit cake.
People probably would have been much more forgiving of RE6's story if the game design itself was better. Or, conversely, people would've been much more forgiving of RE6's game design if the story was super compelling.
But RE6 was neither.
And so RE7 was Capcom's way of trying to re-learn how to do pacing, level design, and atmosphere. The gameplay was the most important thing. That's why they didn't even bother using the legacy characters and created Ethan and the Bakers. The legacy characters would've been a distraction. They had to fix things one step at a time: gameplay first, story second.
That's why RE7 is RE7 and why we have only seen Leon in CGI movies and not games since 6 (Remakes not withstanding). RE7 fixed the gameplay, and Vendetta, ID, and DI served to reconfigure and redefine Leon's character, and I'm more than sure that they're going to try to finally blend those things together in RE9.
And if you don't play the fucking games, and if you don't fucking understand how the games industry works, you're not going to have any of that fucking context going into your meta analysis.
That's why braindead motherfuckers in this fandom look at that stupid remark made about how the one director thought that Leon and Ashley holding hands during RE4make's gameplay made them look "too close" and they read way too much into it -- it's because the spoken words of the directors are all they have to go off of, and they don't realize what a bad gameplay decision having Leon and Ashley hold hands would have been.
If you don't play the fucking game, you don't know that the half-second it takes for Leon to switch from his knife to his gun can mean the difference between taking a hit or not -- and so you would have no reason to think of how annoying it would be to add yet another half-second delay to Leon drawing his gun if he had to disengage from Ashley first. If you fuck with the normal gameplay loop with something that only happens when Ashley is with you, it will make the player start to resent Ashley, and that's the opposite of what the devs wanted to do -- which is what the fucking conversation in the interview was about in the first place!
That is far more likely the reason why the handholding was cut. And while that decision was being made, it was probably pointed out that having them hold hands made it look like they were on a date -- and that's absolutely not the tone/atmosphere that this game was going for. That is far more likely what was meant by "too close."
It had nothing to do with ensuring that the players perceived Leon and Ashley's relationship as platonic. It had everything to do with tone and atmosphere and the pacing of the normal gameplay loop. It's just that "*juts a thumb in his direction* This guy thought it made them look too close" was a way fucking easier explanation of what they probably thought was a really fucking unimportant anecdote about a character animation that didn't matter.
But if you don't play the games, you won't know that.
If you don't play the games, Word of God is all you have to go on. That's why people who don't play the games insist on all Word of God being explicit canon. It's because they can't use the games themselves as a baseline -- and that gives them a skewed, fucked up perspective of what Resident Evil is trying to do and be and accomplish.
This kind of shit is constantly in my head when I'm writing my meta and trying to predict where a game's story will go next.
I pull my meta directly from the games, because that is what Resident Evil is. It is a series of games that are trying to be good games first and interesting stories second.
And if you don't understand that, you have no business calling yourself an authority on the canon.
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karahalloway · 7 months
Text
Sex Bomb
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Fandom: TRR
Paining: Leo Rys x Adelaide Amaranth
Series: None (this is a one-shot and can be read independently of the rest of my fics)
Word count: 4,000
Warnings: swearing, alcoholic tendencies, smut, outrage, crack ship (you have been warned)
Theme song:
A/N1: This is my long-awaited (and very much demanded) follow-up to the part I wrote for One Night in Cordinia; however, you should be able to read the current fic as a standalone.
A/N2: Since I love killing two birds with one stone, this is also my submission for this year's Smutember event hosted by @choicesprompts. The prompts that this fits into is 'Caught in the act' and 'We shouldn't be doing this...'
A/N3: Certain parts of this fic were somewhat inspired by the scene between Finch and Stiffler's Mom from American Pie. The clip, for anyone who hasn't seen the movie, is below the cut.
youtube
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Sex Bomb
"Bloody hell..."
Leo dropped the edge of the heavy brocade curtain he was holding, letting it fall back into place behind the dais to conceal his presence once again.
The ballroom was heaving. And the evening had barely even kicked off. Lord knew how many more people were still battling the traffic to get a coveted front-row seat for the royal event of the century.
The Coronation.
...or, as Leo liked to call it, the Royal Nail in the Coffin.
Because in his mind, that's what it was. The final, inescapable blow that would seal his fate for good, and maroon him forever on the desolate island that was kingship... shackled in life-long matrimony to Madeleine Amaranth.
Leo shuddered at the thought. Especially when he recalled his fiancée's naked form getting skewered loudly by that Justin What's-His-Face PR pansy on the steps of Beaumont House mere days ago.
Not because of the fact that she'd had sex with someone else. Hell, he'd tapped more ass than he could count! So, he couldn't exactly begrudge his soon-to-be wife's promiscuity. Especially when she couldn't remember any of it...
No, it was the fact that here he was, on the eve of his engagement to his future Queen, and all he could think about was her mother.
That sexy vixen of a woman, Adelaide. The Duchess That Had Got Away.
Very literally.
Because in the chaos of the Shagging Smog-infused assassination-attempt-gone-wrong — aka the Beaumont Bash — Leo had lost his one chance to notch that coveted mark on his bedpost... especially considering that she would've actually been game for it, given the mind-altering effects of the aerosol-based dispersant.
Talk about fucking irony...
Leo heaved a breath.
Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Maybe there was a reason why—
"Quite the crowd out there, huh, son?"
Leo clenched his eyes shut. "Yes, Father."
Constantine clapped a hand onto his eldest son's shoulder. "It's going to be quite the night!"
"Yes, Father," Leo intoned, forcing himself to swallow down the bile that suddenly threatened to bubble up his gullet.
The King's fingers tightened on his jacket. "All eyes will be on you, lad. Do not cock this up."
Leo felt himself gag. "'Scuse me...!"
Slapping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep the scotch-laden contents of his stomach under wraps, he lurched past his father.
Stumbling across the ante-room, he barely made it to the nearest ficus plant before the 20-year old single malt regurgitated itself into the perfectly hydrated potting mix in front of him.
"Christ, you are a royal disgrace..." muttered Constantine as he marched past him. "If God would've had any sense, he would've made Liam my heir instead of you. But here I am, stuck with your worthless hide instead..."
The slam of the mahogany door reverberated around the room.
"The feeling's mutual, old man," muttered Leo, shooting a wad of spittle into the planter to cleanse his mouth.
Lifting his head, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
A drink. He needed a drink.
Mostly because he'd just thrown up the five fingers worth of Dutch courage he'd consumed less than an hour ago, and there was no way he was subjecting himself to the shitshow on the other side of that curtain even remotely sober.
And if Constantine had an epileptic fit...? Well, he deserved it.
The old tosser had given Leo enough hell during his 30-odd years on Earth, trying to mould him into something that the wayward prince wasn't, and never would be.
Making his way to the other side of the room, Leo located the hidden door that led to the service corridors and slipped inside.
A few twists and well-worn turns through the rabbit warren, and he emerged out into the smoking room, a plushly decorated space filled with heavy brocade curtains, velvet armchairs, a billiards table, and — most importantly — a well-stocked liquor cabinet.
Making a straight line towards the blessed promise of inebriation, he grabbed the nearest decanter of scotch, and pulled the heavy crystal stopper out.
He was about to pour himself a healthy serving when he heard the rustle of heavy taffeta behind him.
Glancing around, he nearly dropped the priceless Swarovski crystal on the floor.
"Pinching a cheeky tipple?" asked Adelaide Amaranth, surveying him over the rim of her own glass.
"Shit, Maddy's mum...!" Leo quickly composed himself. "Erm... Thought I'd get a head start on the party."
"Mmm..." purred the Duchess of Krona, perching herself on the edge of the billiards table. "Man after my own heart..."
Leo swallowed loudly as the skirt of her dress slid apart to reveal the length of her toned legs.
After the unmitigated disaster that had been the Bash, she'd appeared to him again, luscious and alone — like a siren rising from the dark depths of his previous failure — tempting him with a second chance...
...or goading him with the unattainability of his crusade.
Either way, Leo felt his guts tighten at her unexpected presence.
"So..." Her voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you all set? To become King and all?" she asked, swirling the remnants of her drink around in the crystal tumbler.
"Furthest thing from," Leo admitted, sloshing himself a drink with shaky hands.
Whether it was nerves or anticipation, he wasn't sure. Either way, he was now doubly, triply in need of the hard stuff... in part because he could feel some other stuff becoming hard as well.
"Hence why you're looking for something to take the edge off," she mused, running her aqua-coloured gaze over him. "Smart thinking."
"Tell that to my father..." scoffed Leo, dropping the decanter back on the cabinet top, trying to maintain his cool in the face of her intoxicating closeness.
"Or my daughter," agreed Adelaide with a roll of her eyes. "If anyone needs a bevvy, it's her! Speaking of... have you see her? She's quite disappeared on me..."
"Nope. Can't say I have," admitted Leo, throwing the scotch back greedily.
Adelaide surveyed him for a long moment before shrugging. "Probably for the best, really. She can't stand me on the best of days. She's under some misguided impression that I'll say or do something that will embarrass her..."
"Welcome to my world," muttered Leo, reaching for the decanter again. "I am the living embodiment of my father's resentment. You know, he even told me tonight that I am — quote-unquote — a 'royal disgrace' and Liam should've been his heir instead."
"Hmm..." murmured Adelaide, sliding off the billiards table yo shimmy up to him. "I don't know about any of that... I think you'll look fantastic in a crown..."
Leo snorted. "That is hardly a qualification for kingship..."
"Isn't it?" pressed Adelaide, leaning her empty glass against her cheek as she cocked her head at him.
"I have it on rather good authority that there's a bit more to it than that..." murmured Leo ruefully, unable to stop his gaze from sliding down her neck to the bare skin of her cleavage that sat exposed between the lines of her dress.
"Don't listen to them," chided Adelaide, reaching up to run a finger through his thick, blonde hair. "A king needs only three things — a royal bloodline and an iconic profile. Everything else will be taken care of for you."
Leo felt an uncharacteristic shudder course through him as her fingertip brushed over the sensitive skin of his temple. "Apart from the actual ruling..."
"You'd be surprised..." she smiled. "I haven't set foot in Krona in months! The equerries take care of all the pesky details."
"Running a kingdom's a tad more involved than running a duchy..."
"Pfft!" she scoffed. "Duchy? Kingdom? What's the difference? You sign the odd piece of paper, and throw the occasional ball. That's it!"
"And lead Council meetings, host foreign dignitaries, review petitions, attend—"
"Leo, darling, you are terribly overthinking this!" chided Adelaide with a laugh, reaching for the decanter to pour herself another glass. "You think the kings and queens of old bored themselves with all the minutiae? No! They delegated, so they could have fun fighting battles and posing for portraits."
"Not sure fighting battles was exactly fun..."
"My Prince," she said, leaning in, as if imparting a secret. "All I'm saying is you have nothing to worry about. You could conquer nations with that jaw-line..."
Leo's heart stopped in it's tracks as he swore he felt the tip of her tongue flick over his skin.
"...your sense of duty is just a bonus."
"And... and the third thing?" he stammered.
"The Crown Jewels," she declared, pulling back to fix him with a knowing look.
Leo frowned. "You mean the Apple and th—"
"I mean these jewels," she corrected, grabbing the front of his trousers without warning.
Leo nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt her manicured nails close emphatically around his meat and two veg.
"Holy f—!"
"Mmm," purred Adelaide, tightening her hold on him. "Seems to be present and accounted for..."
Leo merely squeaked in response. He had no idea what was happening, or how he'd even gotten to having Adelaide's hands wrapped around his sex pistol in the first place, but he sure as bloody hell wasn't going to tell her to stop!
"...but one cannot be sure without a proper inspection."
Leo froze. "Inspection?"
Adelaide lifted her gaze to met his square on. "Darling, you are marrying my daughter. I cannot — in good conscience — let you bed her without ensuring that all the royal parts are in working order... and capable of producing grandchildren."
"Trust me..." wheezed Leo as he felt Adelaide's hands reach for his belt. "The lads have never let me down."
"Oh, yes," smiled Adelaide, undoing his buckle and letting the ornate belt drop the floor. "I am well aware of your many... conquests. But I also know the papers like to exaggerate. So, surely you cannot begrudge a mother for wanting to obtain independent confirmation."
"How 'bout a live demonstration?" blurted Leo, grasping at the edge of the drinks cabinet for support as Adelaide wrestled with the buttons of his trousers.
Hell, if this was happening, then he was gonna make damned sure that it was happening!
"Don't jump the gun, darling," Adelaide tutted, ripping the fronts of his pants open. "You need to pass muster first."
Leo gasped audibly as his sexcalibur sprang — finally, blessedly! — free of its confines.
"Not one for briefs, I see..." she observed, running her fingers critically over him.
"I threw them all out years ago," he panted in response to the feel of her silken touch on his heated gherkin.
"Another thing we have in common," she smirked, reaching for his hand to guide it over the back of her dress.
A desperate groan escaped him as his palm skated over the smooth, unencumbered expanse of her backside as she continued to fondle him. "So, what's the verdict?"
"A package worthy of a king," Adelaide assured him, rolling his plums together in her palm.
Leo felt his eyes tip back into his head at the overwhelming sensation...
...before it stopped just as quickly as it had started.
Creaking his eyes open, he saw Adelaide throw him a cheeky smirk over her shoulder as she glided sinuously towards the billiards table.
"Aren't you coming, darling?" she whispered back at him.
Leo nearly tripped over his own trousers in his haste to get to her. He was going to get the chance to live out his dirtiest, most depraved fantasy, after all! He was not wasting one more second!
"Lord, you have no idea how long I've waited for this..." he gasped, stumbling across the room towards her.
"Oh, I know very well," she assured him, leaning back to spread her arms out over the polished walnut. "I've seen you looking at me, Leo."
He faltered. "You have?"
"Of course, my darling," she assured him, cocking her leg seductively. "You were hardly subtle in your attentions. A woman notices these things..."
"You know this is highly improper..." he pointed out as he finally made it to her.
"Oh, sweet boy!" she laughed. "This would be the scandal of the century!"
"Then we better give them something to talk about," he grinned, grabbing her by her toned derrière to lift her onto the edge of the billiards table.
"Mmm... I can think of a few things..." she breathed, planting her hands on his shoulders to push him down towards her nether region.
"I'm sure you can, m'lady," he grinned, shifting his hands to the back of her knees to yank her towards him, the sudden momentum sending the top half of her body falling back onto the felt. "But allow me to put even your wildest dreams to shame."
"Bold words..." purred Adelaide with a coy smile as he lifted her legs up to anchor her Valentino Gavarani-clad feet on his shoulders, causing the skirt of her dress to cascade down towards her hips.
"I've yet to receive anything other than a stellar review," he winked at her, grabbing her waist to invert her almost fully as he lifted her sacred centre up to his face.
"That may be so, darling, but unlike some ladies, I have high standards..." murmured Adelaide, lifting her arms above her head in anticipation. "I don't dish out gold stars to just anybody..."
"I don't intend to disappoint," Leo assured her with a cocky smirk as he bent his head towards her.
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"...why must I do everything myself!" seethed Madeleine, stomping down the otherwise empty corridor in her Valentino sling-backs.
She'd known Leo was an immature and unreliable cad who was more interested in finding the next skirt to lift than paying any semblance of attention to actual matters of state.
And while she would've definitely preferred a more dedicated and biddable prospect — such as his younger brother — to share the rigours of governance with, she ultimately wasn't marrying the Playboy Prince because she liked him.
In all honesty, the man could've had warts and halitosis and she still would've gone through with the union!
Because this was a political match, pure and simple. The House of Rys allying itself with the House of Amaranth, the richest and most influential noble family in Cordonia in order to keep Queen Kenna's line alive...
...with the added benefit of elevating Madeleine's own status to that of Queen. A role that she'd been training for since before she could even walk, given her father's unrelenting pursuit of power by any and all means — an endeavour that she very much shared, much to her mother's disgruntlement.
But she couldn't exactly get engaged if her intended was missing! Tonight, of all nights!
Who, in their right mind, disappears on their own coronation?!
Of course, she was well aware of Leo's infamous tendency to pull vanishing acts, but what the blasted hell was the man thinking? To leave an entire country in the lurch?
Certainly not on her watch!
She'd already dispatched Bastien and all available members of the King's Guard to search high and low for the errant prince. But the Palace and its grounds were massive, and given the sheer number of people that had descended on the Rys stronghold for tonight's event, trying to find anyone was an exercise akin to weeding a needle out of a haystack.
So, she'd been forced to join the search herself. Even though it was insulting beyond measure and much below her station.
But, desperate times called for desperate measures, and she'd rather sweat into her ballgown running up and down the corridors now, than stand like a hapless bimbo in front of all the dignitaries and news crews trying to explain why her future king and fiancé had skipped out on an entire nation on one of the most important nights of its recent history.
No. She most certainly did not need those headlines running in the morning... or ever.
Best that she focused her efforts on helping locate the wayward heir, and hope that he wasn't halfway out of the country already... because by God, she'd send the Cordonian Secret Service after him if she had to!
Arriving at the next set of doors on her mental task-list, she wasted no time in pushing the handle down...
"Leopold?" she called, stepping into the room.
...only to freeze in shock at the sight in front of her.
There he was — the next in line to the Cordinian throne — head thrown back, trousers around his ankles, thrusting like an animal into—
"MOTHER?!"
Adelaide raised her disheveled head from the billiards table at the sound of her daughter's distraught shriek. "Oh, sweet pea! There you are!"
Leo raised his hand in a wave. "Hi, Mads!"
Madeleine's rouged lips jerked soundlessly, trying to formulate some kind of response, but nothing was forthcoming.
Never — in all her life! — had she imagined that she'd ever witness such sordid... brazen... obscenity!
She was literally lost for words. Her! The person who has been giving televised interviews since the age of four!
"Darling," soothed Adelaide, propping herself up onto her elbows to reveal the tautness of her age-defying, silicone-enhanced breasts, "I know this looks frightfully ghastly, but I can assure that—"
"Shut up..." she finally managed to croak.
Adelaide frowned. "Darling, are you—?"
"I SAID, SHUT UP!" Madeleine screeched.
Both Leo and her mother's eyes widened in the face of the uncharacteristically deranged outburst... but they nevertheless managed to refrain from commenting.
"I don't know how this..." She gestured derisively in the couple's general direction. "...colossal cock-up happened. Nor do I care. But what I do know — and most certainly care about — is that the coronation ceremony is starting. And I will not let you, Leopold—"
Leo groaned at the sound of his full, Christian name. "Jesus, Mads! I told you I—"
"Do not interrupt me!" snapped Madeleine. Sucking in a breath to collect herself, she continued, "I will not let you fuck this up for me, or the kingdom. So, if you want to keep your royal bratwurst, then I suggest that you pull it out of my mother and get your fatuous arse to the ballroom before I have the Guard drag you there."
Leo glanced down at Adelaide. "You sure she wasn't adopted or—?"
"NOW!!!" thundered Madeleine.
"Okay, okay, sheesh!" huffed Leo, grabbing for his trousers, given that he was already very much deflated, his fiancée having managed to suck the literal joy out of his joystick with her mere appearance .
"And you, Mother..." hissed Madeleine, turning her attention to her disheveled parent. "You have undermined me for the last time."
Adelaide scoffed. "Darling, all I have ever done is—"
"Which is why my first act as Queen will be to banish you to Krona," finished Madeleine with a haughty air of finality.
Adelaide's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!"
Her daughter's demeanour was icy. "You're lucky I'm not banishing you to Siberia. But if you test me—"
"Siberia at least has decent vodka..." chimed in Leo, sauntering past her out the room.
Adelaide tipped her head contemplatively. “He's got a point, you know…”
"Argh!!" screamed Madeleine, slamming the door behind her with such vehemence that it rattled the bottles in the liquor cabinet.
Vile cretins! The whole bloody lot of them!
Grabbing her intended by the arm, she hauled him all the way back to the ball, ignoring the profanity-filled protests.
Stopping in front of the pair of footmen that were manning the ballroom doors, she snapped, "Inform the King that Prince Leopold is ready for his coronation."
"Actu— Ow!!"
She brutally silenced the forthcoming objection with a heel to Leo’s foot.
As the servants rushed away to do her bidding, she manhandled Leo back into the same ante-chamber that he'd disappeared from earlier.
"Mads, stop!" he pleaded as she pulled him across the Persian carpet like a stubborn mule. "Can you please just—?"
"No," she declared, shoved him through the velvet curtains and onto the gilded dais without ceremony. "You will do your duty, even if it kills you, you ungrateful oaf!"
The hubbub of the crowd instantly ceased as Leo stumbled to a stop.
"There you are!" snap Constantine into his ear. "You have some nerve—"
"Just get on with it..." sighed Leo, the weight of finality crashing down on him as he caught his brother's the eye from across the room. Liam always hated it when his brother and father argued, and Leo didn't want to subject him to a public spectacle.
Constantine looked like he wanted to say more, but quickly decided against it. Turning to the congregation, he spread his arms and launched into his pre-prepared speech.
"Good evening, one and all! It is a great honour to have so many of you come out tonight to show your support not only for—"
"Pay attention!"
Glancing down, Leo caught Madeleine's disproving glower from the foot of the dais.
He suppressed a groan.
How they were going to sire royal babies, he had no idea...
...probably with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol...and possibly even a paper bag.
Because he already knew that there was no way that he wouldn't be able to not think about Adelaide while doing it with her daughter.
As even now, in the midst of his own coronation, his mind kept drifting back to the passionate coitus they'd shared on that billiards table before it had gotten oh, so rudely interrupted.
The way she'd moved... The sounds she'd made... That thing with her tongue... It sent shivers down his spine all over again.
And suddenly he had a stark realisation.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't go through with the coronation.
Not if it meant never being able to see her again.
"...and, now..." his father was saying, holding upon the ancient Rys signet ring, "with the bestowal of this ring, I—"
"I abdicate!"
A collective gasp of disbelief rose from the room.
Glancing up, Leo found his father and step-mother staring at him with open mouths, all semblance of propriety forgotten in the face of the shocking announcement.
But he was not perturbed. He'd made his decision. "I, Leopold Maximilian Fernando Constantine Rys, hereby officially and irrevocably renounce my royal titles as Crown Prince of Cordonia and Duke of Applewood." Turning to Constantine, he added with an apologetic shrug, "Sorry, Dad. Just wasn't feeling it."
The heavy gold band clattered to the floor as the cameras exploded into a frenzy of flashing.
"What the devil are you doing?!" demanded Madeleine, appearing in front of him as he hopped off the stage. "Get back up there and—"
"Better luck next time, Mads!" he shouted over the growing dim as he quickly skirted around the edge of the ballroom.
Reaching the closest set of French doors, he threw them open and — with the practiced ease of a man who'd done this exact manoeuvre a hundred times before — vaulted over the edge of the balcony.
Landing on the gravel, he caught sight of the lone pair of headlights idling in front of the Palace steps, and the figure that was in the process of getting behind the wheel.
A knowing smile spread over his face.
Loping across the drive, he managed to intercept the Aston Martin Vantage convertible before it had a chance to drive off.
The driver raised a brow at him as he approached. "Aren't you supposed to be getting crowned?"
"Realised I had somewhere more important to be," he admitted, coming to a stop by the side of the car. "Room for one more?"
Adelaide's lips curved into a smile. "Always, darling."
"Excellent!" exclaimed Leo, hopping into the passenger seat.
She cast him a sidelong glance. "You know this is never going to work out..."
"And?" he grinned, kicking his feet up onto the dash.
Throwing her head back with a laugh, Adelaide pressed the pedal down, kicking the tail of the Aston as they left the ball to dust.
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disfrutalakia · 6 months
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Here's an idea that will probably write later but my ass needs to stop being poetic about the qsmp for five minutes actually.
Imagine people waiting by the portal for Forever.
Like Pac telling the rest of the morning crew if they find a way in, then he could save Forever (back on his self sacrifical bullshit), Tubbo and Fit agree to go with him save Forever if they do find a way in.
Cellbit doing most of his work near the portal cause he wants to be one of the first people there when Forever gets back, and if something goes wrong, he'll have to be there so it's killing two birds with one stone.
Bad sitting near the portal with Baghera and Bagi. They're all trying to stay positive, but the question still remains: Why didn't Forever take them with him? (He was under some duress, but still). Bagi just got here, and she's already losing people. Baghera and Bad can't keep dealing with loss like this.
-miscellaneousplusmore
Ohhh the nether room just becomes their meeting point, Philza usually hangs down with them for a bit too sometimes, asking if there are any news but there never is
And then one day Forever comes back, followed by the eggs. He is stumbling is way down the corridor but people take a bit to notice because they are looking at their children. Bagi is the one to notice the wince of pain on Forever and how he sits down at the end of the corridor, tired, weak, wounded but alive. He is smiling even if he just came from hell
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sitp-recs · 2 years
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Hi Liv! How is life treating you? Well, I hope.
I was mindlessly scrolling through fics and reccs but nothing seemed to hit the spot when I realised, right now I’m probably craving stories where Harry and Draco are so in love with each other that rather than an admission of it, you can see it in their actions.
Like every little thing they do just has such well intentions behind it, and it can have any kind of vibe to it, ranging from nobody else except this person matters to just simple I love you and would do anything for you.
I absolutely love the buildup from hate to love but as of now, it’s the more of being in love/ liking the other person and that sort of intensifying kinda vibe I’m looking for.
Please please help me, if you have any such reccs. Thank you so much.
Hi anon! I’m okay, just a bit tired after two very busy weeks at work 😩 what about you? I think I know what you mean, something like friends to lovers with domesticity and gentle pining where all their friends already think they’re together? :) I hope these work!
Blue Sky Is Living Here Today by ignatiustrout (2018, G, 5k)
Draco's a father, Harry's in love with him, and it's really hard to take things slow.
Closer by MA (2022, M, 5k)
All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.
Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (2021, G, 5k)
Harry is up to something. Why else would he keep giving Draco presents?
Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (2020, T, 9k)
Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.
A Song, Incomplete by RurouniHime (2013, E, 11k)
Draco’s photograph took up the entire top half of the Prophet’s front page. Below the photo: DRACO MALFOY DEFENDS SON OF FORMER LOVER. As if that were breaking news.
the way you make me glow by @softlystarstruck (2022, M, 11k)
In a cottage next to the sea, love blossoms. Or perhaps it’s been there all along.
Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (2021, M, 12k)
Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.
Countdown by dysonrules (2013, M, 14k)
When the Wizarding world is plagued by random outbreaks of Dark Magic, the Ministry assigns Curse-Breakers to assist Auror teams on their missions. Harry shouldn't be surprised when Draco Malfoy is assigned to his team, but is Malfoy a Curse-Breaker, or a curse-bringer?
Take the Moon by MA (2022, M, 15k)
Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. Living with Draco (biscuit-lover, no work/life balance, good hair) and his son Scorpius (also biscuit-lover, colour-codes his bricks, proud bearer of plastic swan-shaped garden ornament) gives Harry the routine and companionship he’s always craved. There’s also the matter of the really great sex (because what’s a marriage of convenience without a little fun, after all?)
Another Heart Whispers Back by @slytherco (2020, E, 53k)
At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.
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aeoki · 1 year
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Rainy Season’s Blossoms - Chapter 2
Location: Light Music Club Room Characters: Hinata & Yuuta
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Yuuta: Good morning, Sakuma-senpai.
Hinata: Good morning to you too, Oogami-senpai.
Yuuta: …Aniki, it doesn’t look like Oogami-senpai’s here.
Hinata: Then does that mean someone just forgot to close the door? That’s pretty careless~ Well, there’s nothing of value that we should worry about if someone were to steal from the club room.
Yuuta: No, there are plenty of expensive instruments, so it’ll be a huge fuss if they get stolen.
In the meantime, let’s wake Sakuma-senpai. I’m sure Oogami-senpai will be on his way soon anyway.
Hinata: Yeah. Sakuma-senpai, it’s time to rise and shine~ Wakey, wakey *Feeeeee* ♪
Yuuta: …He’s not waking up. He’d usually be coming out of the coffin by now.
Hinata: I wonder if he’s sound asleep? Ah, Yuuta-kun. Don’t get so close to the coffin. He might take a big bite of your head.
Yuuta: You sure are a worrywart, Aniki… Haven’t you noticed something off about the coffin?
Hinata: Am I supposed to say it’s weird that there’s a coffin in the light music club room? It’s kind of too late for that.
Yuuta: Not that, Aniki. There’s a P.E. jersey on top of it. I wonder if it’s Sakuma-senpai’s.
Hinata: Let’s see~ Hmm, it’s a little too small to be Sakuma-senpai’s, don’t you think? It probably won’t even fit me.
Yuuta: Which means it belongs to someone smaller than us? I wonder if someone came to the light music club room to hang out…?
Hinata: Ah, hold on. I remember this jersey. I think… it’s Anzu-san’s. Her name is neatly embroidered on the chest area.
Yuuta: That’s definitely her name on there. She sure is organised.
Hinata: There are some people in the idol course who are just as small as Anzu-san… She must have done it so it wouldn’t get mixed up.
What’s her jersey doing here anyway?
Yuuta: Let’s ask Sakuma-senpai. It’s strange he hasn’t woken up when we’re this close to the coffin, but he must be fast asleep inside.
Hinata: Stand back, Yuuta-kun. Sakuma-senpai might attack the moment we lift the lid.
I won’t let the vile clutches of a vampire take my cute little brother!
Yuuta: You’re in just about the same amount of danger, Aniki. Let’s open it together then. This coffin’s heavy, so it’s going to take a lot of strength for someone to open it on their own.
Sakuma-senpai might end up drinking our blood if we keep beating around the bush like this.
Hinata: Yuuta-kun, you’re worried about your big brother, huh. Having such a sweet little brother makes me so happy~ *Hug* ♪
Yuuta: Ah geez, how many times do I have to tell you not to hug me? Come on, let’s hurry and wake Sakuma-senpai up and ask him why Anzu-san’s jersey is here.
Sakuma-senpai, we’re gonna wake you up now~
Hinata: It’s not breakfast time, so don’t stay in the coffin forever, okay~?
Yuuta: ………
Hinata: ………
Yuuta: He’s not here. The bed’s cold so it must have been quite some time after he left.
Hinata: Sakuma-senpai disappeared all of a sudden and Anzu-san’s jersey that was left on top of the coffin…
Yuuta-kun, your brother has just realised something.
Yuuta: Ehh? I bet it’s something stupid again. But I can’t seem to come up with anything myself, so let’s hear your opinion.
Hinata: We’ve got a mystery on our hands! And an unsolved one at that!
We need to find Anzu-san from these few clues and save her from Sakuma-senpai!
Yuuta: …Aniki, haven’t you been playing too many video games lately?
Besides, just because both of them aren’t here, doesn’t mean there’s any evidence saying that Sakuma-senpai took her.
Hinata: Your big brother’s instincts are saying that Sakuma-senpai kidnapped her. Well, either way, we can’t start our club activities without finding Sakuma-senpai anyway.
Also, you wanted to promote ourselves to Anzu-san, right, Yuuta-kun? Why don’t you do just that? We’ll be killing two birds with one stone.
Yuuta: Your brain works well in the weirdest places, huh, Aniki…
But, what should we do in going about to find her? Her jersey here isn’t going to help. A note would have been helpful. 
Hinata: A note, huh… Oh, I see something like that! Yuuta-kun, there’s a piece of paper that’s fallen near the coffin. Isn’t this a note?
Yuuta: Thank god. If there’s a note then… Wait, the handwriting just looks like scrawls; it’s hard to read.
I think this will take some time to decipher. Aniki, can you read this?
Hinata: Nope.
Sakuma-senpai might have been half asleep at that point~ Looks like it’ll be pretty hard to find both of them with this as a lead, so let’s think of something else ♪
Yuuta: You sure look happy, Aniki. I’m disappointed we’re back at square one.
Hinata: Don’t you think it’s kind of boring following the note and searching for them that way? I was so bored out of my mind, so this is a huge welcome!
Alrighty, how about we take this jersey with us and go ask around~?
The foundation of any investigation is our feet, after all. Yuuta-kun, I’m gonna leave you behind if you don’t get a move on~♪
Yuuta: I was pretty bored myself so I don’t mind. Even if I warn Aniki to be more efficient, I don’t think he’ll listen to me right now.
…I sure hope Anzu-san’s safe.
Putting aside Aniki’s debatable instincts, if they really were on the mark, then that means Anzu-san’s in danger.
Hinata: Why did Anzu-san come to the Light Music Club’s club roo–
Woah!?
Yuuta: Eek, w-w-w-what was that noise just now!? That sounded like a window being broken, right?
Hinata: I think thunder just fell around here?
Ahh~... The rain’s gotten heavier. What should we do? Search indoors and then go outside once it’s let up a bit?
Yuuta: Y-Yeah. Aniki, don’t leave me behind, okay? If you do, I’ll eat the pudding in the fridge at home.
Hinata: Yuuta-kun, I thought you didn’t like sweet stuff. There’s a bunch of whipped cream on it too, so I think you might get heartburn.
Anyway, I won’t leave you behind!
Let’s hold hands, Yuuta-kun ♪
Yuuta: No, we’re not kids anymore… Ah geez, don’t make such a happy face like that. Sheesh, you sure mess with my head…
← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →
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kimmkitsuragi · 4 months
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ooh i get it now
no other screenshots today bc astarion looking in the mirror post was more than enough lmao but a lil update as i said
i get my character now i think!! lou is self-serving but not cruel. his concern for himself also extends to his party, because he sees them as his only way of survival. that's why he chooses to co-operete with the others when he can- like sticking with laezel when she's interrogating the tiefling somewhat... harshly lol
but also, he's not cruel to the point where he lets random people die. if it's too out of his way, he might not rush in to save them (like helping tieflings out of the druid grove). if he thinks he will also benefit, he will intervene and help. like halsin for example, the party is on their way to save him. not because lou is a hero who wants to save the grove, but because he thinks halsin will be able to help him. he doesnt care that much about the situation with the druids- but also he wont just let them kill tiefling children when he sees it happening, because that's just cruel*. he just wont go out of his way to escort them out to safety, he thinks he can kill two birds with one stone if he saves halsin anyway. so that's not cruel in his mind
*just realized that this point can also be connected to the fact that he's a drow... druids would kill him in the same situation too. (they even show aggression right away when they see him) so he ofc doesnt trust their judgement that much- especially after seeing that dead drow on nettie's room lol. i also found the underground caves with lolth's cult (? idk the lore that much yet) so i wonder how this will fold out for him. he's not following lolth so im expecting aggression towards him even tho he's a drow too? i havent explored the caves that much yet because i dont wanna die lmaooo
(alsoooo there's his background - noble. so his self-serving qualities make sense too. he's used to getting what he wants anyway.)
he will intervene with the goblin's death penalty, because she has information that he can use. he wont free her tho, doesnt necessarily trust her innocence. and he got the needed info, so he will figure it out himself. you know. things like that.
the only action he regrets doing / doesnt align with this way of thinking was those 2 people and their absolution thing. he wanted to get to the bottom of this "absolution" and the way they call him a "true one", because that would benefit him. but then his words got one of them killed for no reason- he was just trying to deceive them into giving more info and help. so that was a sad situation...
i will try to play him with this consistency from now on! rn i have astarion, laezel, and gale in my party. i feel like we need a healer/supporter in the party tho so im not sure if i will stick with gale :( i like him but might switch back to shadowheart until i get them to level-up. maybe after the level-up, i can reconsider based on their new abilities idk.... i still havent recruited karlach btw lmao im on my way!! feels like i will really like her too !! - btw just remembered my whole party is dumb of ass if i leave gale. that's a concern too tbh lol
astarion is proving to be more than just my favored blorbo tho, he's so good at so many skills i favor and REALLY useful in combat with how i play this game lmao. he basically cleared out all the goblins waiting to ambush us on top of roofs!! i mean gale was a help too, but my ranger and fighter wasnt that fitting for a more discreet way of fighting lol. and that's my fave way of combat so far tbh (obviously it cant be used throughout a boss fight or something lol, just for small things like this) so im keeping him FOREVER tbh he's never leaving the party
anyway i also found one of his victims (it was a boar or something) and lou was like 🤔 wonder what couldve happen to this poor animal 🤔 what do u think astarion 🤔 lol babygirl so bad at lying to me <3 girl u're so good at deception but why were u panicking at that point lmao
also i already posted abt it butttttt laezel was literally like "hi let's have sex" to Lou i meannnn 😭😭 i like u but not so fast damnnn im also eyeing astarion obviously so i said thanks but no lmao astarion on the other hand is not acting like he even likes me 😭😭 i mean he doesnt hate me i see his approval slider thing lmao but in action... at camp last night, he was like hmm u're better than i thought ngl and im not even sure if he means it or just trying to do something else lmaoooo he was also lying seductively while saying it so,,,, what's the truth lol
also gale approves a LOT of my actions i fear he will be the next one to say hey let's fuck lmao. the thing is im making "good" decisions for selfish reasons so he approves the good decisions idk man let's see where this will go
also also, this game has SO MANY things to do damn i keep getting distracted by everything
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sukirichi · 3 years
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true gift
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A god like Naoya is about to see how his little mortal is hiding a true gift.
REQUEST.  deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink
CONTENT/WARNINGS. virginity loss, naoya isn’t nice, mentions of blood,  murder, abduction, praise kink, slight degradation, fingering, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, creampie, orgasm denial, mentions of slavery, face fucking, reader is willingly consenting to pain, reader is a masochist, naoya is a sadist 
NOTES. ah...it feels so natural to write naoya...also can someone send me some good erotic hentai panels, yay <3
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Today is the day – the one you’ve been prepared for ever since you’ve forced to make acquaintance with the blinding darkness and smell of rust.
What time is it? Is it morning, night...maybe somewhere in the middle?
There’s no telling, not when you’ve been staring at the pitch black darkness for what seems like forever. It’s been too long, so long, that you’ve forgotten what the world looks like. It’s like one day you’re helping your family tend to the farms when rough hands grabbed at you, and you’re shoved in a cold, dark cellar before you could even say good bye.
Oddly enough, the servants – or at least that’s what you assume they are, since they’ve been nothing but tight lipped and inherently obedient to a faceless figure – have taken extreme care of you.
Twice a day, they’d open the cellar, the sound of keys rustling and nearly muted footsteps like music into your ears. The slight sliver of light passing through from the outside is immediately concealed within a split second, a black smooth material wrapped around your eyes before they strip you off. Normally, you’d complain and fight back, but you’ve lost all the will to even defend yourself at this point.
You’ve given up a long time ago, and life’s been a lot more tolerable ever since.
Today isn’t any different. Maybe it was hours ago, two servants had came in to wash away the grime and dirt from your body before you felt something combing through your hair. Then, you felt it. A smooth, cold blade running up and down every inch of your body, rendering you immobile in fear even breathing could cut you open.
It didn’t. If anything, you felt a lot smoother, lighter, and freer.
“Is she bare?” an old, croaky feminine voice echoed in the small room, equally wrinkled hands removing the strap of your bra off before she lathers a rose-scented cream all over your body. “Naoya-sama prefers his slaves hair-free, you know that. Not even stubble is allowed, do you understand? Keep shaving her until she’s spotless.”
Naoya-sama.
So that’s where you were. It all made sense now.
For as long as you could remember, that name’s been spoken with terror, the slight tremble of voices and darkened eyes pooled with fear never absent in the presence of his name. You’ve never seen him, but you know enough to understand that he’s a prominent figure especially in your little village. He’s not human, but he’s not exactly a god either – at least, not one that people would willingly worship.
You’ve heard telltales on how his beauty alone had women dropping to their feet, the malice in those eyes of his enough to make even the strongest warriors stick to his side in fear of what he’s capable of.
He’s as old as time and as strong as the steady flow of the river you and your people have always bathed in. It doesn’t make sense that someone as fearsome as he was is living at the mountains where nothing but quiet, peaceful people rejoiced, but the more you think about it, of course he’d prefer his people submissive, heads always ducked in fear and shaking in terror.
This whole time, you thought you’d been sold off to a neighbouring clan head because your clan didn’t have enough funds to pay for the latest trade.
In a way, you’d feel a lot luckier if the former had happened instead, because there’s really no proper way of making sound of the fact you’re sacrificed to your own deity, Naoya Zen’in, after not completing your offerings to him for ten whole moons.
It’s bad, horribly so, and you should be shaking, should be crying, should be wishing for death instead, so then why are you deferential? You don’t complain when two rough hands pull you from the ground and keep your arms tight in shackles at your lower back, vision still obscured by this cloth as you’re guided somewhere – someplace that all the sacrificed women for your deity are received.
Your feet are sloppy and smacking against the hardwood floor, heart pulsing in your tongue for all the wrong reasons. Faintly, you can smell a rose-scented candle and water splashing, but it doesn’t register until you’re immersed under it.
You gasp, hair flattening onto your skin while you look around blindly, struggling to clutch onto something as your feet keep slipping into the tub.
You’ve never been into a tub before; much less recognize the soft, paper-like objects floating into the water with you. Head swaying side to side until water is sprayed everywhere, a firm hand keeps your head in place just as a pumice stone is scrubbed into your skin. It’s not painful, but the rough scraping sensation feels sensitive from your skin that hasn’t been exposed to normal, breathing air for who knows how long.
“Stop moving,” that same elderly voice commanded, and her assistants, most likely, move quickly into extending your limbs until you’re sprawled out everywhere. “We are to make you perfect, presentable, lavishing in front of our deity himself.”
“B-but —”
“You have no right to speak!” You’re left stunned as your cheek bruises red, lips wet from the water as you pant. The sting on your skin becomes more pronounced, but you dare not speak, opting to keep your lips shut instead. The elderly woman takes notice of your behaviour, humming before she makes you stand up, that same blade swiping down your exposed regions. “You learn fast and submit well. I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.”
“She is gorgeous too, my Lady.”
“She should be,” comes a retort, your jaw clenched as you keep still. She forces your legs further apart until you’re embarrassingly exposed, the rose petals in the water sticking into some corners of your skin. “If she was not, she’d be dead already. It’s her pretty face that’s keeping her alive at this point.”
Everything is a blur after that.
One moment, they’re shaving you, the next you’re thrown from one body to another. They perform all sorts of things – towel drying your hair, exfoliating your skin, plucking your eyebrows to perfection before applying a shimmer to your cheeks and something sticky and glossy to your lips, then finally you feel the warmth of silk robes you could never afford even if you work yourself to death caressing your body.
After that, you’re locked inside a much bigger room, the blindfold falling off your face slowly.
You blink in surprise.
The room isn’t that dark, but dim enough, and your heart beats louder in your chest when you see the size of the room. It’s ten times bigger than your village meeting point, a large tatami bed sat in the middle. From one side, a window is open, allowing you to see the white illumination of the moonlight that looks hauntingly romantic.
Candles are lit on either sides of the room, and your gaze lands on odd whip-like weapons placed proudly on the walls.
Your legs are wobbly as you stand, life just coming back into your unused muscles. Making your way towards it, you reach out to touch this...weapon that’s still somewhat coated with the stench of blood. It’s immaculately clean and the leather is shiny, though it’s clear this has been used for far more gruesome situations before.
I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.
You recoil your hand that’s a breath away from coming into contact with it, terror plaguing deep into your bones as you take a step back.
You’re a sacrifice, an offering, sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice – you’re brought here to die, and your god would kill you himself. Others may have considered it an honour to have died from the mercy of his hands, your oh-so divine lord who’s brought prosperity and wealth into your land, but you turn away, breathing hard as you make a break for the door.
But you never made it.
Your back lands into someone’s chest, a slight gasp falling from your lips before you’re pummelled into the ground, strong hands pinning your arms above your head. Eyes widening, you come face to face with your deity, his fox-eyes lined with dark kohl sharpening his already predatory features, ears pierced with tiny skulls and black dots.
His knee nudges your leg open and you groan, the sound making his eyes dart at you in warning before he smirks upon seeing you make no move to get away from him.
“As I’ve heard,” his deep voice cuts through the eerie silence of the room, the night so mute not even birds or insects cricketed at the presence of your deity’s need to have you for himself. “You are a compliant little lamb sent to the slaughter,” you shiver as his fingers run to caress the side of your face, his free hand undoing the knots that keeps your modesty. Naoya hums deep in his throat when the cloth falls to the sides, revealing perky nipples that pushed closer and closer to his awaiting lips at each heavy breath you took.
“You are stunning,” he praises, using a thumb to graze over the hardened bud. It’s barely a touch, but you’re sensitive, wholly new to this that you whimper. The sound is humiliating and utterly pathetic, your teeth coming down to capture your lips.
This displeases him entirely and Naoya taps your lips open, glaring at your wide, fearful yet aroused gaze. “You do not ever conceal such shameful sounds when I’m above you, do you understand?” You nod shakily, freeing your lip from its confines. Naoya snickers, chest puffing up with pleasure before he leans back to his calves, pushing the rest of your robe to the side until you’re completely exposed to him.
Your breathing grows more laboured when Naoya spreads your legs open, smirking as you whimper at the stretch of having your knees flattened by your sides. Legs placed on top of his knees, your elevated posture gives him more access to your bare pussy, his gaze zeroing in on the gleaming arousal that’s beginning to form on your lips.
“So fucking wet,” he comments, using both his thumbs to pry your pussy apart. You moan at the sensation of him pressing down on a part of you that you don’t know existed, and Naoya laughs, the sound sinister yet erotic. “You’re a virgin.”
It’s not a question – it’s a statement he takes pride in, especially because he knows he’s the chosen one to take something precious away from you.
“I’ve always loved virgins,” Naoya’s hands roam all across your body, slowly, sensually, passionately, the rough, calloused hands running under your legs to hitch them up behind his broad back, to cup your soft ass before he cups your pussy, groaning into your neck when he feels you leak and he’s barely touching you to begin with. It makes his ego swell when your hands wrap around his neck; he hates being touched by mere, lowly mortals like you, but you are undeniably gorgeous and so wanting of him that he allows you just this once. “Always so sensitive – do you want to be good for your deity? Hm?”
“Y-yes!” you cry out, eyes snapping shut when he suddenly inserts a finger in.
The feeling is foreign yet not totally unwelcomed, but you grimace anyway at the slight sting his digits bring. Naoya pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy to coax your arousal to drip further into the sheets like a waterfall, your nails digging into his robes while he watches you with a smirk. He laughs when your eyes widen at the second finger pushing in, thumb rubbing over your clit until your legs tremble around him.
“Virgins are always so gorgeous once they finally learn of pleasure,” he scoffs to himself.
You look at him straight in the eye, mouth falling open while small gasps fall through at the speed he’s pushing into you at.
Something begins to form in your lower bally until your body grows utterly warm, something...something close about to snap when he pulls his fingers out of you, throwing his head back in laughter when you cry for the first time that night.
Naoya stares at the way your gaze darts from his cum-soaked fingers back to your drenched core, brows raised cockily before he stands up, his figure looming over you. “What? Got something to say?” you only whimper in response, closing your legs as you try to provide answers to the brooding confusion punching at the back of your skull.
The sound of faint rustling brings you back to life, your eyes snapping to witness your god undressing himself, the robes falling from his shoulders too wonderfully that the mere sight of him has you clenching around nothing.
Fat cock standing tall and proud, tip red and glistening with pre-cum and a body carved by fellow gods himself, the rumours were right.
He is beautiful, and it’s no lie that his slaves aren’t really slaves to begin with, not when all of them have been so eager to please him, just to have a taste of this divine being that stands before you. Naoya easily reads your face; from the slightly parted lips, thighs rubbing together and hands looming dangerously to your core – you look so needy it’s actually fucking pathetic.
He’s slow in his movements, languid and taking his time because he’s got time and more in this world that he never cares about wasting something he has a plethora of.
Naoya makes himself at home above you again, basking in the way you’re struggling to breathe even without his hands on you. It doesn’t take long before he pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, clenching his jaw when you open your mouth submissively, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you take your juices into your mouth.
You’re a natural at this, he observes, tongue expertly swirling around his digits until you’ve licked it clean. Naoya pats your cheek affectionately, his own way of applauding you for your work.
Under him, you grow shy and abashed, arms covering your bare breasts because he’s a god, why should he be pleased with you?
Naoya doesn’t give you enough time to think before he’s hauling you upwards, your shoulders shoved back onto the ground. You kneel below him in prayer and he tugs at your hair, forcing you to look at him, or rather his cock that’s slipping past your lips. You gag when he pushes his length all the way inside, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.
Naoya sighs at finally being taken in – you should be grateful he even fingered you – his hands guiding your head to bob up and down him.
You do well at pleasing him even through the tears, clutching at his thighs while you suck in his length and swirl your tongue around the prominent veins. Naoya watches with hooded eyes as your cheeks hollow just to take his whole length in – and again, you’re a natural – so eager to please him too when you keep pushing and pushing, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.
His muscles ripple above you while he lets out a long, drawn out groan, nails scratching your scalp. You feel him twitch inside you and that’s when he takes over, snapping his hips ruthlessly until you’re left gagging and sucking his cock helplessly.
Your saliva is dribbling at the edges of your mouth, looking so fucked out and whore-like while he pushes himself to the edge. He doesn’t care that you’re choking and your eyes are zooming out of focus from not being able to breathe. He doesn’t care that you could die from asphyxiation, he doesn’t care because you’re his sacrifice – if you can’t even do this simple thing, then how else could you prove you’re worthy to live?
You know this too because you force yourself to breathe through your nose instead, wanting to show that you are worthy, that you can please and take him however he pleases you to.
Naoya isn’t stupid, he can see what you’re doing and can read your mind even in his lust-driven state. Nothing edges him more than a good, submissive whore. Now that he knows you’re willing to do anything without complaints, Naoya pulls his cock out just seconds away from orgasm, pushing you back into the mat with a grunt.
“You’re so fucking good for me,” he hisses and pushes both your legs to the side, your body bent and pussy left open for him.
Naoya groans as he slides himself inside you. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but your virgin cunt is still too tight and new to this that you scream around him, subconsciously clenching around him harder.
“You’d do anything for me, yeah?” he challenges, cupping your face while he rams into you hard, uncaring that your walls are beyond abused and a ring of blood is already coating his cock. This isn’t the first time he’s taken someone’s purity, but this is the first time he’s had someone look gratified that he’s hurting them, fuelling him to fuck harder into you despite the steady stream of tears down your face. “Look at you – so obedient,” he pinches your nipples and rolls them between fingers, growling at the way your pained moan sounds more like an encouragement for him to go harder. “You want to please me so bad you don’t care I’m hurting you? Are you so eager to worship me that you won’t even stop me?”
“N-no, my lord,” you manage through the pain, regulating your breathing as you completely break down in tears. Naoya is hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your insides feel like they’re about to burst, and he takes note of this, pinching your clit just to get you to clamp down on him. “Please – use me however you want – please.”
Naoya smirks, pressing your knees flat on the ground before he hovers above you, forearms planted beside your head. At any other given moment, he prefers to fuck his sacrifices with their face planted on the ground because he can’t bear to see how disgusting they are, but you – you’re so damn beautiful it puts his fellow gods to shame.
Now yours is a face he’d like to keep looking at, so he roughly grabs your cheeks and squeezes them with his fingers, kissing your puckered lips and nipping at them.
You taste heavenly too; his servants did a good job of choosing honey as a gloss. Naoya greedily licks your lips until he’s shoving his tongue inside your mouth the same way his dick is ramming inside your walls, tight, puffy lips wrapped happily around his base.
You’re moaning inside his mouth as he squeezes your breast painfully. Never in your whole life have you thought that pain would feel so good, enticing you to moan louder when the sting finally subsides, replaced with the mind-numbing sensation of his thick length rubbing against every ridge of your walls. Naoya pulls his face away from you, his cum and your saliva sticky on your face and he chuckles, the sound stuttered and breathy, brows drawn together.
He looks down to watch the way you accommodate him; this is by far the tightest and wettest cunt he’s ever fucked – ever will fuck – that he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with any random whore’s pussy anymore.
Naoya frowns as anger bubbles up inside him, hatred making his cock swell inside you because how dare you make him wish he won’t take anyone again.
He wants more – want to kill more people, want to fuck more virgins, want to have more blood showering his skin until he’s bathed in glory and gore, but even though you’re the one he’s destroying, he’s slipping on the edge, too lost and hypnotized at the way your tight walls suck him in. Your moans don’t help either; they’re breathy and whiny, so defeated yet so eager to have more that Naoya grips your hips tight enough he might’ve cracked a femur from his godly strength.
Your scream this time is that of pain and loss, grappling on the sheets while white bursts through your eyes. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you overwhelmingly and you fall limp to the sheets, your translucent cum soaking his cock along with the previous blood, but Naoya doesn’t stop.
He keeps slamming into you until you’re mute from oversensitivity, hands cold with sweat and eyes empty while he uses you as his own fuck toy.
He gets there eventually, the room painted with his groans followed by a feral snarl, the rhythm of his thrusts turning sloppy and unbalanced. Naoya stills inside you after burying himself to the hilt, his crotch angrily rubbing at your pelvic bone as he cums. You whimper at the feeling of his warm seed spilling inside you in thick spurts. Naoya pulls out with a slight wince, scoffing at the mess you’ve made on his precious dick, but he’s forced to soften a little when he sees both your cum spilling out your hole in a messy puddle, the liquid coating your ass.
Meek as always, you don’t move a muscle when Naoya spreads your legs open, inching his face close enough to watch the way your pussy stutters and legs tremble in front of him.
You’re absolutely ruined – the puffy lips spread out and hole still pushing out the remnants of his cum. He doesn’t bother pushing them back in, uncaring if he’ll get you pregnant or not because it’s not like matters to him. You are nothing but another body to fuck and dispose of under the river once he’s satisfied with you, but he surprises both you and him when Naoya suddenly pushes two fingers inside of you, his eyes dark as he insists on keeping his seed right where they should be nurtured.
Now that he’s sure that will make your belly grow and provide him with a half-mortal heir, Naoya retrieves his robes and walks out the room, the slamming of the door shut similar to an impending doom of an imminent death.
But not yours.
You’ve fulfilled your duty as the death curse bearer of your clan; the greatest and most formidable weapon they’ve been carving to perfection the moment you’re born. The cracks in your bones and bruises on your body immediately heal as you turn to your side, chanting under your breath a hushed whisper of the words of your ancestors who’ve perfectly planned the death of the Zen’in God who’s made his people suffer for thousands of years.
They would be proud of you.
And as a body crashes outside the door followed by the frantic screams of his confused servants, you smile to yourself, falling into a deep sleep upon using your true gift.
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solsolace · 2 years
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no bc- i just read “snowball” and cuddly childe + winter/cold + his family has found its way into my hard and now i’m in need of comfort scenarios now that it’s so cold pls 😭 if you want ofc! this is just a suggestion as a very touch starved reader and fan of ur work :,)!!
home for the holidays
✧ synopsis: [fluff] headcanons and drabbles; childe brings you to his home for the holiday season :) ✧ ft. childe x gn!reader (+some of childe’s family!) ✧ warnings: slightly suggestive towards the end but nothing serious, mentions of food, spoilers for childe’s real name ✧ a/n: not super wintery, but i'm in the mood for family bonding and cuddles; i hope this is alright!! (sorry it took me forever to get to this btw lmao)
»»————-  ✦  ————-««
✧ okay, so, harbingers don’t really get time off- including for the holidays, buuuut- childe was finally given a chance to oversee some recruits in snezhnaya, and it just so happens to line up with the holiday season, aaaand… well, he can handle some work and still get to see his family, right? right, of course, he is tartaglia after all, there’s nothing he can’t do!! ✧ plus… he’s managed to convince you to come along with him. so, it’s like he’s killing three birds with one stone! hell yeah!
✧ as eager as he is, childe can’t help but feel oddly anxious about bringing you to meet his family for the first time (despite the fact that he has been begging you to come to snezhnaya with him ever since you two have gotten together. and probably way before that, too. he’s just been very excited to share the part of himself that isn’t completely tainted by the abyss and fatui with you) ✧ he’s aware that they’re going to love you, of course-why wouldn’t they?- but what if you don’t like them? what if his siblings annoy you (or worse, embarrass him) or his parents say something offputting? he adores you, but he doesn’t know if he could handle you and his family not getting on. ✧ though, if he’s nervous, you’re an emotional wreck, whether you show it or not. childe’s told you about his family before, and the fond smile and sparkle in his eyes when he thinks of them has always made your heart flutter- they sound so sweet. you’re excited, but perhaps a bit too eager to please. you’ve spent a lot of your time recently trying to find clothing and supplies that will both protect you from snezhnaya’s freezing temperature while also giving the impression of “really-good-partner-for-your-son-please-accept-me.” oh archons, you really hope that they approve of you. ✧ both of your worries are quickly swept away when you reach his family home-more of a manor if we’re being honest, the lad is rich and he keeps his mf family taken CARE of and one of childe’s sister’s opens the door before squealing happily and calling out for the rest of the family. ✧ childe’s mother absolutely gives you the biggest, warmest hug in the entire world- definitely hugs you first before hugging her son. she might also cry; it’s been a while since she’s gotten to see him in person, and look! he’s so grown up now! he even has a lovely partner!! :’((!!! she has chosen pointedly to not count being a harbinger as maturing. ✧ it’s honestly quite lively for the first few hours of your visit; the younger ones are bouncing around you in their excitement, the older siblings are discussing new happenings with childe (and teasing him about you, of course), childe’s mother is rushing around trying to clean their already very nice house, and childe’s father is… absent. he did not come down to greet you or his son. ✧ if you start to feel overwhelmed, childe is quick to notice, and will usher you to a different room away from everyone else for a bit to make sure you’re okay.
Childe tells his family he’s going to give you a “tour of the house”, taking you by the hand and leading you down the hall before anyone can say anything. He takes you to what must be a study, walls lined with bookshelves (save for the space where a stuffed bear head is mounted on the wall) and a desk in front of the window. Outside, the snow is blowing across the frosted ground in swirling clouds, a frozen howl echoing against the glass.
“You alright?” He asks, pushing to close the door behind him. You nod, working on maintaining control of your breathing. Childe’s hand reaches to brush just in between your shoulders, tentative at first, but as you lean into his touch, he snakes his entire arm across your back and pulls you into his side. He lets you recline against him, allowing you to take however much time you need to calm down. Ever so faintly, you can hear the relaxing rhythm of his pulse mixing with the winds outside.
Once you’ve been grounded and are feeling a bit better, you move from his arms to sit atop of the desk. There’s not much you need to brush aside, though you do spot an interesting paper reading, “Gifts for the kids”. You try to spot Childe’s name, curious about what his family would get him, but a clear of his throat summons your attention before you can.
“So…” He starts, taking a step toward you. His eyes wander away from you, and there’s an air of feigned nonchalance that you’ve come to know all too well.
“Sooo?” You mimic.
“Are they… My family, I mean, do you…?”
He’s cute when he’s stumbling over his words, you think. It’s rather rare for your boyfriend’s smarmy, talkative ass to be at a loss of what to say. You know Childe really values your opinion, but is worried about it at the same time.
“Your family is wonderful, ‘jax.” You smile reassuringly, and his eyes light up. “They’re a bit excitable and energetic, but… I like it. They remind me of you.”
Now you’ve done it; Childe immediately descends upon you to steal a kiss, causing you to laugh a bit at how abrupt he is. His kisses are excitable and energetic, just like his family, just like him.
You two are, however, interrupted by a chorus of “Ooo”s, “Eww”s and “Aww”s. You both part early, glancing over at the door to see his little siblings' pairs of eyes peeking through the doorway, watching your antics in amusement. Childe narrows his eyes at them while your composure flusters, before he puts his lips back on yours. The children shriek with giggles as they scurry off, chanting some Snezhnayan version of “kissing in a tree.”
✧ when the two of you return from your, ahem, departure, you notice a tall, tired looking man in the living room. childe’s mom is discussing something with him in hushed, adamant tones, falling silent when she spots you. the once vibrant atmosphere in the room seems to have vanished. childe’s hand stiffens against yours, but his gaze remains steady. the other man does not speak, merely allowing his eyes to wander from Childe, to you, and then back to Childe. He gives a small nod, before turning to kiss childe’s mother on the forehead and leaving through the front door. ah. that must have been childe’s father. ✧ you want to say something, ask about what the hell that was, but his mother prevents you from speaking with a cheerful announcement that dinner will be served soon. she’s already making her way to the kitchen as she calls childe to come and help set up, leaving you in the now all-too-cold living room by yourself. ✧ big families mean big meals, but your added presence apparently means childe’s mom is going to pull out all the stops. i need you to imagine a 7-course meal with all 7 courses served at once. an entire damn restaurant spread out on the dining table. roasted ham, pirozhki, salmon pie, olivier salad- you couldn’t even name some of the dishes. it kind of amazes you that she not only managed to cook all this, but was able to fit it all in one space. ✧ also. yes you can make your own plate but don’t even try to be coy or modest. you’re a part of this family now and they’re gonna make sure you eat like one.
“Here, sweetie, have some more ham.” Childe’s mother is already slicing pieces off and dropping it on your plate before you can respond.
Your plate is already piled as high as it can go. But, you are nothing if not polite and desperate to get on your boyfriend’s family’s good side. “Oh, uh, thank you, Mrs.-”
“Just call me ‘mom’, dear.” She speaks with a giggle. You nod.
“Oo! You should try the cabbage rolls, me and Anthon worked on those!” Teucer chimes toward you.
“Anthon and I,” Tonia corrects her little brother gently.
“Huh? No, you didn’t- you weren’t even there!”
The warmth had returned with the chattering and merriment of Childe’s family. You steal a quick glance at your boyfriend, who is being abnormally quiet, and see him smiling down at his plate. His blue eyes have an almost melancholic wistfulness about them, one you’ve often noticed when the two of you were in Liyue- always apparent when he’s talking about how much he misses his family. But, he’s here with them now, isn’t he?
You won’t pretend to know what he’s thinking about, but you do want him to enjoy these moments while they’re here. They mean a lot to him. You reach beneath the table to lace your fingers with his. He snaps out of his reverie at your touch, turning his head to look at you. His smile widens as he squeezes your hand.
“Oh, by the way, Ajax, where are you gonna be sleeping?” Childe’s older brother asks, covering his mouthful of food to avoid spitting.
Childe tilts his head. “Uh, the guest room?” Beneath his breath, you can hear him add, almost solemnly, “As usual.”
“But that’s where Y/N is going to sleep.” His older sister comments.
“Yeah?” Childe picks up a spoonful of borscht and guides it to his mouth. “The beds big enough to fit both of us.”
His mother looks absolutely aghast. “Ajax, you know how I feel about funny business under my roof!”
He sputters on his soup, quickly grabbing a napkin to dab the beetroot that spilled out and waving his hand. “Mom-”
“Oh, but, what the hell. It is the holidays!” She chuckles, before switching to a stern mutter, “but you two better keep it down, okay? Teucer’s room is right across-”
“MOM.” Your boyfriend’s face is a deep red, his freckles standing out against his tinted skin, and you can’t help but giggle. He buries his face in his free hand with a groan.
“Wait, so Ajax gets to sleep with his partner, but when I bring my girlfriend over, she has to sleep alone?” His older sister scoffs with disappointment. “It’s not like WE were gonna do any ‘funny business’ and yet-”
“Wait, what’s ‘funny business’?” Teucer asks innocently. The table is filled with roaring laughter-and Teucer’s confused pout- and you lean into your boyfriend’s shoulder. You can practically feel the heat radiate off of his cheeks, but he’s grinning, too.
You’re only about halfway through your monster of a meal when Tonia stands up, clapping her hands cheerfully. “I think it’s time for dessert!” She calls, skipping off to the kitchen.
“Oh goodness, she’s so proud of her kutia.” Mom remarks fondly. “ We don’t normally eat it until a few days from now, but Tonia was really excited to make it for you, Y/N. Please, be a dear and compliment her on it when she comes back, won’t you?”
You shoot Childe a look of surprise and horror, whispering, “There’s more?” And he just chuckles. You should’ve expected this. As with anything to do with Childe, there’s always more.
✧ with his mother’s blessing, you two finally get some real alone time in the guest room. though, for a guest room, it’s huge- probably bigger than your own room at home. it does feel… emptier, though, especially in comparison to the rest of the house. there are no decorations, just a large bed, a nightstand with a lamp, and a dresser. you and childe’s suitcases are tucked neatly under the bed. ✧ already in your pyjamas, you hop on top of the mattress and shimmy beneath the blankets. the soft bedding sinks until you are comfortably encased in your cotton cocoon. if your boyfriend doesn’t hurry up, you might just fall asleep without him. ✧ thankfully, he comes into the room pretty soon after you, dressed in a large shirt and his boxers. he’s more modestly dressed for bed than usual, but you’re not too surprised- this isn’t exactly a private home, after all. ✧ he flops on top of the blankets across your legs, sighing loudly and melodramatically. you stretch down to ruffle his hair lovingly.
He twists his head toward you, catching your palm and planting a kiss on it. You smile before beckoning him to join your side. As soon as he’s spread the blanket haphazardly over himself, he’s weaving his arms across your waist and smushing his cheek against your shoulder.
“Was today okay?” Childe asks softly. He always seems to get unbelievably soft when he’s sleepy. You wonder if he’s aware of it.
You lift your hand to brush the side of his face. “Today was amazing, babe. Your family is really fun, and they’ve made me feel so, so welcome.” You kiss his forehead and he hums, almost relieved. “Thank you, for bringing me.”
Thank you for coming, he wants to say. Thank you for trusting me, thank you for staying with me, thank you for loving me. The words won’t come out, so he instead tightens his arms against your core.
“Ajax, are you okay?” You swivel so that you can wrap one of your arms around his neck, his head falling into the side of your chest.
There’s a pause as he considers it. Is he okay? He doesn’t get asked that a lot- and when he is asked, he always lies. He doesn’t want to lie to you any more than he has to. But what can he say? He’s home, but it doesn’t feel like the home he knew. His family has grown, and he has, too. They’ve changed, he’s changed… He misses everything he had, and there’s no way to go back.
You gently tap his shoulder, bringing him back to you. You, another change in the life he once recognized. He raises his head to look into your eyes, patient and yet worried- for him.
Childe smiles. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” He has you now, after all. He can’t go back to the way things once were. Maybe he doesn’t need to go back, if going back meant not having you at his side. Maybe one day, he’ll find the words to tell you this.
You lean in to kiss his forehead again, but he straightens up to meet your lips with his. It’s a bit clumsy, you’re both sleepy and warm and together, but you melt into each other.
Childe separates from you after a moment, and in your tired, loving haze you miss the sudden devious glint in his stare.
“You know what would make me feel even better than okay, though?”
“Hmm?”
His hands begin to roam under your shirt. “Well, you remember that ‘funny business’ my mom mentioned earlier-?”
You groan, pushing away from him and picking your pillow up to shove into his face, a bark of your boyfriend’s cackle following. He continues giggling as you turn away from him with a huff, making a point to lay down.
“Good night, you big dork.”
His laughter dies down as he slides further beneath the covers to join you, rewrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer. He kisses the back of your neck with a contented sigh.
As long as he’s next to you, Childe is already way better than okay, he’s certain of it.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
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Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU
All Parts:
Epilogue:
--/--
6 Months Later
“Stop- Katsuki, stop it!” You huff a frustrated sigh, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Why can’t you just sit still?”
“Because this is takin’ too goddamn long! Waste of fuckin’ minutes.”
“Well this is important to me, so you’re gonna sit back and shut up and-“ You nearly scream when he shifts again, almost dislodging the measuring tape you’d wrapped around his wrist. “Sit still! Jesus, angry man, it’ll literally take two seconds if you just stop fighting me!”
He grumbles, something low and petulant under his breath, but then falls back against the couch fully. Bakugou finally relents, hand going slack in your hold as he shuts his eyes.
You were gonna kill him, no seriously, you were gonna murder him. He was being so difficult, way more difficult than usual, and you had a sneaking suspiscion it was because he was tired- because, as you’d quickly found out, from only a few months of dating, Katsuki was an absolute toddler about sleep. You’d come to understand that him being tired led to him being cranky, and him being cranky led to him being so goddamn annoying and combative that it made you want to tear your hair out.
He was lucky you loved him so much- not that you told him that yet.
You’d known you loved him for months now, could feel it the way your body heated if you thought of him, the way your blood sang if you so much as heard his name. It was a full body sensation for you- the way you loved him. There was just no escaping it; no escaping the way he’d carved himself a spot in every single part of you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, didn’t even want to try- but you couldn’t tell him so.
Every time you’d tried you were tongue-tied and stuttering and red in the face. The words were thick in your mouth, clogging up the back of your throat. You just couldn’t figure out how to say them; no matter how many times you’d tried. 
You flip his arm over, measuring the space between his thumb and his wrist. You’re trying to be delicate and gentle, but truthfully you really just wanted to get this done quickly.
With the deadline for your last college project quickly approaching, you’d spent the last few weeks doing nothing but devoting all your time and losing sleep over it. It seemed like no matter what support item you’d devised, it didn’t seem perfect- didn’t seem inspired enough to turn in for your final grade. So you dedicated yourself to watching clips and looked at hero rankings and pretty much sacrificed your social life entirely, just to stew over it. It took watching Bakugou’s own hero highlights with him to snap you out of your funk. You wanted to smack yourself; he’d been in front of you the entire time! Of course, it had to be an item for him. So you got to building and designing with renewed spirit.
Katsuki was an amazing fighter, you knew this, and his prowess in battle and raw power alone was quite literally unmatched by almost every opponent- but, the only thing holding him back was that he didn’t do so well with civilians. Try as he might, Bakugou’s loud, flashy, quirk just didn’t paint him as particularly friendly, and his brash personality didn’t help either. And, since you’d long ago given up trying to soften his character, but maybe you could help with his quirk. You figured that was pretty much your degree right?
So, for the past month or so, you’d been secretly working on a gauntlet attachment for him. You’d designed it to quiet his explosions, similar to a silencer on a gun, in hopes that civilians would stop reporting hearing loss after being saved by your very loud boyfriend. Truthfully, you knew it wouldn’t fix all his problems, but maybe then his ratings would go up a tiny bit. And, you figured, if you then just built the prototype you designed, then it could serve as a birthday present for him too. Two birds with one stone, right?
If only it was that simple.
It wasn’t. You were a perfectionist and you’d been pouring your blood, sweat, and tears for weeks now, but it still didn’t feel like enough. It felt like you were running out of time. Even now, while actively taking measurements for said project, you felt uneasy spending time with Bakugou. 
“You done yet, woman?” He peeks an eye open.
“Almost.” You grab your phone, typing the measurements into your notes. “See how easy and quick this went when you stopped being annoying?”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be so fuckin’ annoying if you’d just tell me what you’re makin’ already.”
“Nope. Already talked about this, Katsu,” You let go of his hand. “It’s a surprise! You don’t wanna spoil your birthday surprise, do you?”
You’re joking, smiling widely at him and fluttering your eyelashes. He doesn’t look very amused. Katsuki just squints at you for a moment before poking your side.
“That’s fuckin’ stupid. You’re being annoying. Stop it.”
“Fine. Well I guess since you don’t want it, maybe I just won’t give it to you then.” You tease, moving to leave the couch. “Maybe I just won’t give you any of the gifts I was planning to.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes, huffs like he is very inconvienced, and grabs your wrist. He pulls until you’re falling into him, crashing into his chest and settling on his lap.
“I didn’t fuckin’ say that, idiot.” He grumbles, hands falling around your sides. “Stop putting shitty words in my mouth already.”
“I can’t. Pretty sure that’s my job actually.” You laugh, bracing your hands on his chest as you straighten. “Besides, you say like 3 words and all of them are swears, angry man. Someone’s gotta be the talker out of the two of us.”
“It shouldn’t be you. You’re better quiet.” His words were cold, but he was rubbing warm circles into your lower back. “Fuckin’ silent.”
“Wow- we sure are cranky tonight, huh, angry man? Is it bedtime for baby, already?”
“You’re not funny.”
“No, I’m pretty funny.” You laugh, brushing the the wild hair away from his forehead with a gentle hand. “But seriously though, if you’re tired, I don’t have to stay. I don’t mind, I can leave if you just want to sleep.”
He screws his face up at that, comically offended and dramatic as he drops his face into your shoulder. Katsuki’s arms wrap around your sides, pulling you close until you’re flush against his chest. He tightens his grip and doesn’t seem like he plans to let go any time soon.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, angry man, I get it. I won’t leave right now- but I can’t stay for too long.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“That project, remember? I’m nearly done.” 
He huffs again, arms curling tighter around you. You’re a little confused- truthfully, he usually is more physical than verbal, especially when he’s tired, but he’s never this physically affectionate. His voice is a near snarl when he speaks again.
“I fuckin’ hate that stupid as shit assignment.” 
 “Yeah, well, you hate pretty much everything; so I can’t say I’m exactly suprised, Katsuki.”
“No. Seriously.” He gruffs, fingers twitching at your sides. Katsuki takes a deep breath, biting out his next words quickly. “Haven’t seen you in fuckin’ days.”
“Aww-”
“Say another goddamn word and I’ll take it back, woman. Try me.” 
“Okay. I won’t.” You giggle. “But I really am serious, I can’t stay over tonight. Got work to do still.”
“That’s stupid.” Bakugou says and then he’s squeezing you once again, keeping you trapped tight against his chest. “You’re being stupid.”
“Wow. Thanks.” You snort, looking up at him. His mouth is pressed into a tense grimace, so you try patting his cheek playfully. “You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”
He doesn’t seem to like your joke. Not at all.
“I’m kidding. I’m not going anywhere.” You console. “I’m only picking on you, you know, so don’t be so sensitive, angry man. You insult me all the time.”
“When the fuck did I insult ya?”
“Katsuki-“ You utter in disbelief, your hand moving to play with the hairs on the back of his neck. “You literally just called me stupid!  And you said you liked me better silent! Like 2 minutes ago!”
He shrugs, and you can feel his face heat against your neck, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You’re awfully lucky I like you so much.” You sigh. “Because otherwise I’d have to kick your teeth in every time you opened your mouth.”
“Like you could even get that close to me, shitty woman.”
“Strong words for a man currently making a home in my collarbone, Katsuki.”
“That’s-I- You know what,” He starts, extending an arm and pushing against your shoulders to create distance. “Say shit like that again and I swear to god I’ll...”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll- I’ll fuckin-“ He stutters, face red and fists clenched. “I’ll-“
You think he looks adorable- all huffy and red and embarrassed where he sits. Katsuki’s eyebrows are pinched together in that competitive crease you’d come to know so well, his mouth curled around a familiar snarl. You were sure it must’ve looked terrfying to anyone else- but you weren’t just anyone else. You were his soulmate and you knew exactly how to get him to calm down.
You caught his face in both of your hands, crossing the distance until your lips met his. Bakugou tried to set the pace, because he always tried at first, armed with bruising pressure and dominance and uncoordinated aggression. You weren’t new here though- you had a lot more tricks of your sleeve than he did.
You ran a hand up his spine, your nails just barely catching on to the fabric of shirt, trailing the back of his neck until they landed in his hair. He damn near melted into you at that, and he pretty much dissolved when your other hand ran under the fabric of his shirt.
“You’re gonna what now?” You asked, pulling away slowly. You’re breathless and blushing yourself but that never stopped you before. “C’mon, Katsuki, tell me. What you were gonna do?”
“I-huh?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot?” You giggled. Unable to help yourself, you pecked his lips again. “You seemed so determined though!”
He’s still dazed- red and embarrassed as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You can’t stop the victorious smirk that rolls across your face.
“You’re an evil fucking woman.” He finally says, breathless. “Shitty too.”
“Mhm, I know.”
“Shouldn’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it. ‘S not a compliment, idiot.”
“I know.” You pat his chest, pushing away from him until you’re standing on your own. “Now, c’mon, up. Sleep time, right?”
You see the look on his face, and it almost kills you to crush it.
“No, that doesn’t mean I’m staying, angry man. I’ll take a nap with you and then I’m going home.” You offer your hand out to him. “Sound good?”
"Whatever.” He doesn’t seem all that pleased and he bats your hand away lightly, standing on his own. He starts down the hallway towards his bedroom with stomping steps and you follow. “You better actually go to sleep though- ya got ugly fuckin’ bags under your eyes, woman.”
You stop in your tracks, a wheeze escaping you. It didn’t matter how many conversations you’d had with him, how many times he’d accidentally insulted you with his blunt words, it still surprised you every time. And maybe it was your tired state, all the sleep lost over the past few weeks finally piling up, but his words hurt a little this time- hit a nerve and made you angry. 
“Alright, well, on that note. Maybe I will go home!” You huff, thumping a fist against his back. “That was so mean! What the hell, angry man! I’m literally busting my ass right now and that’s what you have to say to me? That I’m ugly to you? That’s fucking rude! I didn’t- I’m leaving. I don’t even have enough time for this anyway and I-”
He spins around quickly, pressing you into the wall as he grabs your arm. You can’t hit him anymore, not with the sturdy grip he has on your wrist, but the look on Katsuki’s face really makes you want to. He looks insulted, tired, but mostly just annoyed by your reaction. You swear you could kill him that moment, but then he’s gathering you into his chest and you’re melting against him. He’s still your soulmate- no matter how angry he makes you.
“N-not like that. Idiot. Not ugly.” He mumbles against your hair, voice tight and shy. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing furiously. “I meant- I- you’re not fuckin’ sleeping. I can see it. So you have to sleep.”
“I-what?”
“I’m not fucking stupid. You’re tired- it’s obvious. Have been for weeks.”
“You noticed?”
“Course I fuckin’ did.” He shifts on feet anxiously, swaying you a bit in your arms. “See your stupid face all the time- I can tell that shit about you.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” You pull back a bit in surprise, trying catch his eyes. He won’t let you, eyes zeroed on the wall, just behind your head. His face is a violent shade of red. You roll your eyes fondly, gently guiding him to look at you with your hands on his burning cheeks. “I shouldn’t have flipped, but that still wasn’t very nice. You really should’ve just said what you meant the first time around, but it’s fine. I understand. School’s just been tough with final assignments and stuff, you know? I’m alright though- just a little tired. Like you said.”
Katsuki doesn’t seem pleased with your answer, his eyebrows creasing as he grumbles something under his breath.
“What? Couldn’t hear you, angry man.”
“I said-” He starts strong, nearly confident until his tone quickly falls off. Then he’s mumbling again and crushing you to his chest so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 
“W-what are you trying to say?”
“God, you always make me say such embarrassing shit!” He growls, voice loud next to your ear. “I said- I said- you’re doing too much, idiot! You haven’t been around much and it’s fuckin’ makin’ me mad and worryin’ me and all that stupid, disgusting, annoying, shit! So just give yourself a fuckin’ break, already!” 
You’re pressed close to Katsuki, and when you press you hand flat against his chest, you can feel his heart racing wildly under your fingertips. He must’ve been upset about this for a while, you realize- to be expending this much energy, when usually he’d be dead on his feet at this time of night. You feel a little guilty for it, but more than anything you’re gooey and warm all over. 
“I-I’m sorry. For worrying you.” You soothe, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest. “And I know you tell me not to apologize to you, but I mean it this time. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” 
“Good. I-”
“Hmm?”
“N-nothing.” He stutters, flushing violently all of the sudden. He spins on his heels quickly, dragging you down the hallway and into his bedroom. “You have to stay now.”
“No- I can’t. I told you.”
“And I fuckin’ told you to chill the hell out and take a break.” He barks, digging through his dresser and throwing a pair of sweats at you. “Stop being fuckin’ difficult. You’re staying.” 
Truly, you want to fight him. Your brain is running wildly, a million different ideas and worries battering around inside your skull- but he’s right. You are tired. Have been tired for weeks now. If you went home now, you knew you’d just talk yourself into working some more. So maybe a tiny, tiny little break wouldn’t hurt, right? Just something small. A single night.
“Fine. But I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”
You knew you made the right decision when he smiles at you; a small, tiny, pleased, little thing that just barely curls the edges of his mouth. It seems like it’d be hardly noticeable, but you’d been dreaming of that smile for months now. He very rarely graced you with it, very rarely shared something so delicate and uncharacteristically soft but it winded you every time. 
Katsuki fell asleep almost immediately after pulling your down into bed with him. He’d barely curled around you, hardly even let his head hit the pillow before beginning to snore. That smile stayed though. He kept it even as his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened. 
That same overwhelming warmth you’d been feeling for weeks overtook you again- that same blistering, endless affection rendering your limbs shaky and your breaths unsteady as you stared at him. 
I love him. You realized. More than anything.
--/--
As it turns out, letting Bakugou drag you into some much needed rest is exactly what you needed. 
The next morning you’d left his place, mind refreshed and completely reinvigorated to once again start working on the gauntlet attachment. You’d love to say it was just the sleep that fixed you up- but you knew the truth. It was him- him and increasingly strange ways of showing affection.
Settling down into your desk chair, you pulled the schematics you’d drawn up once more. There wasn’t much left to build, only a few more parts you’d need to fabricate with your quirk, and then you’d be ready to put it all together.
Using past records of his costumes, and studying various clips of him in his current costume, you’d finally felt certain that you’d gotten it right. It was a pain conducting the research, especially because you’d had to contact the support companies personally, but in the end you were happy you did it. You wanted this to be a possible improvement for him, but you also wanted it to fit in with his current arsenal. It was a risk for sure, giving your prototype as a gift, and you’d be totally crushed if decided to not use it, but you’d take the chance. 
Bakugou had only mentioned the problem a single time in the past, and even then it was a passing comment, but you couldn’t seem to let it go.
I’m sick of kid’s always fuckin’ cryin’ when I save them. My explosions aren’t that fuckin’ scary, are they? 
He’d said it in the middle of a rant, his eyes pressed tightly together as he paced angrily, but something about his tone struck you. When he said it, he didn’t sound angry. Bakugou sounded upset and frustrated and almost hopeless. You knew it bothered him more than he let on, and from then you wanted to help him- but you couldn’t imagine stripping him of his quirk. 
It, his explosions, were important to him. They were his power and his pride and they helped him save people. He was so, so proud of them, and it broke your heart to think that they were the only thing left holding him back. So, you figured, what if he kept the force but lost the sound? Kid’s normally liked bright lights a lot more than loud sounds, after all.
Grunting with effort, you began fabricating gears and wires and screws between your hands. It took hours and nearly all of your energy, but you’d finally done it. You had everything you needed to finish his gift. 
The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of construction, and deadlines, and sleeplessness but by the time his birthday rolled around, you were ready. Your schematics had been turned in and approved by your professors, you’d passed your final project, and you were finally finished building the prototype. Everything was going great- but you knew why you were really happy.
The last few weeks had been packed for you, and you’d hardly had time for anybody. You felt guilty about it, of course, and you only felt worse when you only heard Bakugou’s voice over the phone each night, but there was no helping it.
Or, at least, there wasn’t- but it wasn’t crunch time anymore. You’d suddenly found yourself with an wealth of free-time, and you knew exactly who you were gonna spend it on.
--/--
Using the key he’d given you, you slipped into the apartment, closing the door quietly. It was difficult in the dark, stumbling slightly with the gifts and cake currently held in your hands, but you’d managed it. Everything had gone smoothly on the way there, you’d just put the cake safely in the fridge, and now you could wake your soulmate up to the best birthday of his life.
What shame he had to go and ruin it.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
You jumped, heart seizing in your chest. 
“Jesus- fuck.” You yelled in the dark. You blindly felt your way out of the kitchen and into the living room, towards the sound of his voice. “Bakugou! What the fuck, man?”
“What the- no! Me! I should be the one fuckin��� saying that!” His voice was raised, and you couldn’t see his fists but you knew they were probably clenched tightly into fists. “Almost blew you up, idiot! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Oh my god.” You huffed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes. “I was going to wake you up! Surprise you! Because it’s your birthday and it’s- wait, what the fuck are you even doing up? It’s like 6:30 AM, on a Saturday!”  
“What the hell are you even on about? I’m always fuckin’ awake right now!”
“Yeah! On a work day! When you’re working!” You can’t help but be frustrated; you wanted to be cute and sweet and Bakugou had ruined it entirely. As he so often did. “But you’re not even working today! It’s your day off! And I know you sleep in on those, so why?”
“Couldn’t fuckin’ slee-”
“What do you mean?” You interrupt, finally flipping the light switch and flooding the room with light. “Swear to god you’re dead to the world the second you hit the pillow! Literally happens every time I stay over. You’re out by 8:30! Why is today of all days the day you choose not to sleep?”
He doesn’t say anything in response to your outburst, and that’s when you finally look at him. It had been almost 3 weeks since you’d last visited, and he didn’t look like you remembered him. It wasn’t anything super obvious at first, but upon closer inspection you could see the deep bags under his eyes, and the pale, lifelessness of his skin. He was telling the truth; apparently, he really hadn’t be able to sleep- and it didn’t start just last night either.
“Hey. Katsuki,” Your irritation from earlier faded. Suddenly filled with concern, you stepped towards him, taking his face in your hands. Bakugou tried to turn away, but you didn’t let him. “What’s up, huh? You alright?”
“Fine.”
“No. You’re not. You look tired. Are you sick?”
“No.” He mumbled, his hands falling on your waist as you stood in front of him. “I’m fine. Workin’ a lot or whatever. I’m fuckin’ fine.”
You nod, eyebrows rising in surprise as he suddenly pulls you in. He presses his face into your stomach, arms around your sides as he shuts his eyes. There it is again- that unusual physicality. This strange behavior had stopped for a while recently, but now it seemed to be back in full-force.
“Do you wanna try sleeping again?” You ask after a beat. “I’ve got birthday stuff for you, but we can do always do it later. We’ve got the whole day, right?”
“What- you plannin’ to actually be here or some shit?” He grumbles, with a lot more intentional bite than you’re used to hearing from him. “I’m surprised. Didn’t know an idiot like you still had the fuckin’ brain cells to remember.” 
You’re shocked, rendered completely still and stiff in his hold. Was he- was he mad at you? 
“What?” You try to push away from him, to get a look at his face, but he doesn’t let you. Bakugou’s arms only tighten and you’re left even more confused. “Are you upset with me? Are you tired? What’s wrong?”
“You really fuckin’ piss me off.”
“What?” 
He only growls under his breath, voice raspy and deep. “Whatever. You don’t fuckin’ get it. Let’s just go to sleep.”
“No- but I-” You stutter, feeling out of place. Katsuki sounded so frustrated and angry and you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “If you’re upset with me we need to talk about it. What happened? What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t respond to your question, only knocks your feet out from under you and stands with you in his arms. You’re dumbfounded. He has never, not ever, carried you anywhere. He’s never even made an attempted to lift you! Something was seriously off with him today- and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was. 
Katsuki was mad at you. You knew that, he’d said it himself. But then why was he carrying you down the hall to his bedroom? Why wasn’t he kicking you out?
He kicks open the door, pushing it shut loudly behind him. He looks pissed when you look up at him, his eyebrow’s creased together in an agitated line, but even so, Katsuki sets you down on the bed gently. You’re hardly able to catch your breath when he’s climbing in on the other side, pulling you close and lying practically on top of you.
“What? I- Katsuki?” You asked desperately, brain reeling. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand?”
“I’m fuckin’ tired, woman. Go to sleep.”
“I can’t! Not when you’re upset like this- seriously, what’s wrong?”
“You. You’re what’s fuckin’ wrong!”
“What?”
“God, you’re so fucking dense!” He growls, angry voice vibrating against the skin of your neck. “Fuckin’ showin’ up in the mornin’ like nothin’s wrong? Been avoiding me for weeks now!” 
“What- no! We literally called last night! What are you talking about?”
“We called for 2 fuckin’ minutes before you fell asleep! And you-” His voice drops suddenly, and then he’s pressing even closer to you, starting up once again. “You piss me the hell off, you know! Sayin’ shit about how you’re gonna do better and then leavin’ for weeks? Not talkin’ to me? What the fuck is that? And then you sneak in here and scare the shit out of me! And you’re running your stupid fucking mouth about the whole day when you’re not even gonna be her-”
Oh. Oh.
He was mad because you’d been busy; because the last time you’d seen him, Bakugou had told he was worried about you, and you blew him off. The last time you’d seen him, you’d promised that you’d take better care of yourself and then you didn’t. All you did was continue working yourself to death, and while you didn’t regret it for even a second, you hadn’t kept him in the loop. You’d barely even managed to call him each night, and even then you’d fall asleep half-way through every conversation.
“Have you been worried this whole time?” You asked quietly.
Bakugou takes a deep, shaky breath, and you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your neck. 
“You were worried.” You whisper. “Weren’t you?”
He nods minutely.
“I-I didn’t realize. I told you- but I didn’t realize. I was so focused on school, so busy, I’m so sorry.” You press a kiss into his hair, your heart sinking when his shoulders tremble. “I missed you too.”
“I didn’t fuckin’- I didn’t-”
“I know. I said it. I’m saying it. I’m sorry, Katsu. I missed you.” You sigh, tightening your arms around him. “Is that why you’re not sleeping well?”
Bakugou is silent but he tenses, going completely rigid under your hands. Your stomach drops.
“It’s-I’m good. Really, this time. Everything’s done. I’m completely finished and everything is gonna go back to normal.” You cradle his face, making him look into your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. We’re good.”
“Are we?”
“What?”
Bakugou shakes your hold, tucking his head until you can’t see his eyes anymore. You can hardly see any of his features, but you see the wobbly line of his mouth. Can feel the shaking of his fingers. When he speaks again, it’s quiet. Barely there.
“Didn’t mean it, last time, when I said your eyebags were ugly. You’re not ugly.”
You blink, hardly able to recall the conversation. Wasn’t that the last time you had visited? Weeks ago? Why was he still thinking about it?
Bakugou huffs again, apparently frustrated by your silence.
“So I’m s-sorry. For insulting you. So now you don’t have to disappear again.” 
Your eyes widened.
“You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”
You remember how upset he’d been when you’d made the joke- how his shoulder’s dropped and his eyebrows caved and his mouth smoothed out into a thin line. Was that really the last time you’d visited? Did he think you were mad at him this whole time? 
 Guilt flooded you, awful and thick and viscous as it tore through your stomach. You had to make him understand. You just had to.
“No. I- Katsuki. Look at me. Look at me.” You insist until he’s looking at you. His eyes are the dullest you’ve ever seen them- more vulnerable than ever before. “I didn’t- I was just busy, I promise! Not upset. I didn’t mean to ice you out like that. It’s fine! I know you didn’t mean it.”
Katsuki growls, grasping for your hand and hiding his face behind it. “I didn’t- I’m sick of stupid angry shit I say ruinin’ stuff for me. So don’t just fuckin’ say it’s fine if it’s not.” 
“It is. I promise. We’re good.” You soothe, caressing his burning cheeks with your knuckle. “That was a bad joke, okay- I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I knew it was gonna make you worry so much. I promise I was just busy these last few weeks. Nothing you say is ever gonna get rid of me, alright? Not even if you tried! Because I love you and I-”
“You what?” 
You freeze, shifting uncomfortably as your cheeks heated up. This was not how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him like you meant it, not just tacked onto the back of a bunch of other statements. He’d heard though, and no matter what you wanted, you couldn’t run from it.
“You what?” He asks again.
“I-I love you. Katsuki, I love you.”
Bakugou jolts, nearly jumps out of his skin and then he’s digging his face into your neck. He’s hot, his skin nearly burning, and there’s a strangled, clipped noise leaving his mouth. You’re filled with so much adoration in that moment that it nearly chokes you, but it’s freeing too, because you’ve said it. Finally. After waiting your entire life for him, after knowing him for so many months, after loving him for so long, he knew.
“I love you.” You repeated again, giggling breathlessly. “I love you, you dummy.” 
He finally lifts his head, expression so full of awe and disbelief and childlike confusion. It’s just like the first time you’d really kissed him; like he couldn’t figure out why you loved him. It was like those first few days all over again and you couldn’t help it. You loved him so much.
Grabbing his chin, you pulled him in, guiding until his lips met yours. You felt him smile as you kissed him, and you realized you were wrong. That first real kiss might’ve been nice; but it wasn’t heaven- itwas only the gateway to paradise. But this? This was the real Elysium. 
His body moved against yours, so close and warm and pliant. He was letting you set the pace, without resistance or force or argument for the very first time. There had been a lot of past kisses, you had hardly been able to keep yourself off of him, but none of them had never felt like this before. He’d never trusted you like this before. You got to be the one taking and taking and taking where’d you spent so long giving. 
It was consummation. Finality. Your perfect ending. 
You pull away, panting for breath. He follows, resting on his forearms and dropping his forehead to yours. 
“I-I- I love you. Too. Idiot woman.” 
You laugh under him, cackling loudly as you turn to press a kiss into his forearms. Of course he’d said it like that. It’s tough love or not at all with Bakugou Katsuki- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Stop laughing!” He orders, face screwed up uncomfortably. “You’re always fuckin’ laughing at me! You fuckin’ witch! Stop it! It’s- I’m not- I take it back! I don’t- stop makin’ fun of me, shitty wom-”
“Hey, Katsuki?”
“Oh my fucking god! You laugh at me and then you go thinkin’ your just gonna interrupt me while I’m yellin’ at you? No fuckin’ way! I’m not gonna allow that shit in my own fuckin’ house and I-”
“Katsuki.” 
“Jesus christ! What?”
“I love you.” 
He freezes entirely, collasping his entire weight directly on top of you. He’s so hot it’s like his skin is burning. You wrap your arms around him with a happy giggle, burrowing your own blushing face into his hair. 
“I love you.” You whisper, slow and earnest against the shell of his ear. “I really, really, really love you, angry man.” 
He startles again, jumps in your arms and only seems to run hotter. He groans something strangled and defeated, until he’s sinking into you again, pressing you against the mattress.
“S-s-stop fuckin’ saying it. You’re doing it on fuckin’ purpose.”
“Doing what?”
“You fuckin’ know, you witch woman.”
“No, I really, really, dont.” You say indulgently, laughing as you drop kisses into his hair. “Care to share?”
“No. Fuck no. I’m fuckin’ done sharing. Forever.” 
You rolls your eyes, once again enduring his very familiar dramatics. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Katsuki. I was just happy to hear it- that you love me too.”
“Well, remember it, because I’m never fuckin’ saying it again.”
“Not even if I say it to you?”
“Especially not fucking then.” 
“You’re so difficult sometimes, I swear. You’re really lucky I love you so much.” You say softly, before scratching idly at the back of his head. “Now, c’mon. Get off me. I didn’t forget- you need to go to sleep.” 
“I’m sleeping here.”
“No you’re not, you man-child. You’re gonna crush me.” 
“Good.” 
“No, not good. You wanna celebrate your birthday with a murder charge?”
“Yes.”
“Katsuki.” You laugh, pressing against his chest. “Seriously. Up. You’re supposed to use those muscles to save people not kill them.”
He just groans loudly, flopping backwards gracelessly. Katsuki is pulling the blanket up and shutting his eyes, and you think everything is finally okay. Until he clears his throat. Until keeps clearing his throat.
“Oh my god,” You huff, opening your eyes. “What’s wrong now?”
“Say it again, idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know what I’m asking you.”
When you look at him, he’s got his eyes screwed shut, his cheeks red. You thought he was adorable- just the cutest man in all of Japan. You knew what he was asking, of course you did, and if he hadn’t been so upset earlier you would’ve made him work a lot harder for it. As it stood now though, you just scooted closer to him; shifting until you were right next to his blushing face and sharing the same pillow.
“I love you.” You say, running a gentle thumb over his heated cheek. “Now go to sleep, okay?”
You can see the smile he’s fighting, the way his lip twitches and he raises a hand to cover it. Then he’s pulling you close and digging his head into the pillow.
All is quiet, and finally, finally, he gets some sleep.
—/—
Katsuki, on a good day, was an absolute beast to wake up- on a day off however? The man was damn near impossible to stir. 
You were squatted next to the bed, trying to pull the pillow out from under his head as he held it in his grip. It was absolutely unfair- even at his groggiest your soulmate had the strength of a one man army. It was seriously pissing you off. 
“Are you kidding me right now?” You’re grabbing at his wrist, trying to pry his fingers away from the pillow but he’s not budging. Katsuki’s got his eyes shut tight, and he’s dutifully ignoring your every word. “I’m serious! It’s noon! Get up already!”
He finally peaks one eye open, just barely enough to see your irritated expression. Katsuki huffs, rips his pillow away from you completely, and flops on his other side. His back was to you, and normally you’d be thrilled about the free chance to drool over the planes of muscle- but this wasn’t a normal occasion. It was his birthday and you’d already made him breakfast and he was refusing to get up and eat it. 
“Bakugou Katsuki, I swear to god, if you’re not up in two seconds, I’m not gonna kiss you for a fucking week!” 
This does seem to illicit a response from him, because then he’s flipping back over, mouth pulled into a snarl.
“You think I care? You starved me out for fuckin’ weeks already!”
You want to roll your eyes. You thought he was being awfully dramatic and you knew you really shouldn’t stand for it- but he wasn’t technically wrong. However inadvertently, you had been neglecting him, and maybe it was time to treat him instead. Just this once. 
“Oh my god, you silly man, come here.” You relent, climbing onto the bed and hovering over him. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just asked.” 
“I-didn’t! When the fuck did I say that because I-”
You pressed your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. It was a trick you’d learned early on, but damn if it wasn’t still useful. You pulled away right when he started to get handsy.
“No. Bad.” You say, batting his hands away from slipping under your shirt. “I didn’t just waste all that time trying to get you out of bed just to be pulled in. Now, c’mon, you have breakfast to eat and presents to open- it’s your big day, birthday boy.”
“Fuckin’ exactly. Let me do what I want.”
“No, because if I let you do what you wanted you’d sleep all day and only wake  to go blow something up.”
“Sounds like fucking bliss.”
“Alright, well then I guess you’re gonna have to experience nirvana all by yourself because I’m going to eat.” You pat his chest, climbing off the bed and standing straight. 
Bakugou grumbles under his breath, but then the blankets are rustling and he’s rising to follow you out the door. He tears into the breakfast you’d made him, shoveling eggs and bacon and pancakes down his throat at an almost inhuman pace. You would cringe, but you’d seen this scene already many times before. 
“You ready for presents, now?” You ask, putting the dishes in the sink.
“Sure. ‘m not a fuckin’ kid though, you didn’t have t-”
“I wanted to. Seriously. So be quiet and be a little selfish for once. Please.” 
He nods tightly, following you into the living room. He’s settling on the couch, once again rubbing at his eyes when you bring the gifts over. There’s three of them in total and he chooses to open the smallest one first.
“Fuck- this a new watch?”
“Yep.” You nod. “To replace the one you blew up last month.”
“When the- how the hell did you-”
“I have my ways. Now, seriously, promise me you’re gonna be careful with this one.”
“Okay.”
“Katsuki, that’s not a promise.”
“I’m not gonna just fuckin-”
“Say it.”
“No! Why the hell should I have to fuckin’ say shit just because you were spyin’ on me, you freak!”
“Katsuki.” You glare him down. “Promise me.”
“Jesus fuck, woman. Fine. I promise I won’t blast this one to pieces, alright?” He rolls his eyes. “Ya all happy and cheery now?”
“Very.” You smile brightly, moving to grab the second gift and place it in his hands. “Here’s the next one, open it.”
You watched him set the watch aside carefully, before taking the second gift. He might’ve been grumbling, but he couldn’t completely hide the smile trying to stretch across his face. You were glad you made the effort- he deserved every good thing and more.
“This is a jar.” He says flatly, looking down at the unwrapped gift. “What the hell?”
“It’s a swear jar. You know, for practicing how not to offend everyone within a .2 mile radius.” You deapan, taking the excess wrapping paper from him to throw it out. “You gotta work on it, Katsu- news has to censor you so much that your public appearances sound like EDM music.” 
“I’m gonna blow this up.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am.”
“No. You’re not.” You laugh. Then you lean towards him, sidling up close and lowering your voice as you run thumb across his jaw. “And, hey, if you figure out how to make it through the week without filling it up, I’ll give you something really, really nice as a reward.”
“Reward?” He’s asks, quickly putting down the jar. You know the look in his eyes, and you’re not surprised when his hands wander to your waist. “’s empty now, right? Think I fuckin’ deserve it. Huh, sunshine?”
“Nope. Sorry, Katsu.” You smile sweetly, dodging as he leans in for a kiss. “It’s saturday- week doesn’t start until tomorrow!” 
He groans, loudly, falling boneless against the couch and tugging you with him.
“You make me want to blow my fuckin’ self up. You know that, you shitty woman?” 
“Aw, thanks. Now, cheer up- you’ve still got one left to open.” You say, patting his grimacing face.
You shake his hold, just barely avoiding when he tries to pull you back as you grab the last present. This box is a little different from the last two, you’d spent extra time trying to make sure it was wrapped nicely and you’d even tied a ribbon around it. You hoped he’d like the gauntlet attachment- you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your disappointment if he didn’t.
“Yeah, so this next one,” You start, placing the box in his hand delicately. “I made it for you myself. Designed it too.”
He pulls the ribbon on the box, tearing away the paper. It’s like time stops for a moment, rolling nerves arresting you and choking your breath. You’re nervous and you feel like shaking and you so desperately want him to like the gift. Want him understand just how much work you’d put in for him and just how easily you’d do it all over again.
“Yeah so it’s an attachment for your grenade gauntlets, right?” You start, right when he’s pulling the device from the box and holding it in his hands. “I was thinking- wouldn’t it be nice if you could quiet your explosions sometimes? You know, for when you’re saving civilians and kids and stuff so they’re not so scared. Basically it works kind of similar to a suppressor on a gun, dispersing and slowing down the blast just a little to muffle the sound, but it’s just a little more high-tech and way more powerful- to match your quirk. Obviously. And it’s adjustable so, if, for whatever reason, you needed to wear it outside of your costume, you can collapse it slip it on like a bracelet and-”
Bakugou is silent. He’s almost frozen as he stares down at the gift, only twisting the gift around in his hands to get a better look. His eyebrows crease, and your stomach drops.
“No- it’s- please don’t get mad! It’s not supposed to offend you or anything! I-I know you don’t need my help to save people, you can do it all on your own, I know that.” You rub your arm anxiously, eyes averted to the floor. “I’m just trying to help- you know, because you always talk about your ratings going up, and I’m sure you could totally do it on your own, I know you could, but I just wanted to help you cause that’s what I do, support, and I can’t help you out on the field and I-”
Pop.
Pop pop pop pop pop
When you finally look up at him, you’re blinded by the smile on his face. It’s bright, and beaming, and brilliant as he fires off explosions. You can see the light dancing on his hands, the force of combustion shooting his arm back, but it’s quiet. It sounds like pop rocks and bacon grease and popcorn instead of cracking thunder and collapsing buildings and then he’s laughing- he’s laughing something full and joyful as he stands, holding his hands up right next to his ears and setting off more explosions.
“You hear this shit?” He yells, that wide smile dazzling you all over again. “Fuckin’ works!”
The nerves disappeared, the tension seeping from your body entirely as he grinned at you. It was worth it. Entirely worth it- you’d give anything, start all over and do it all again from the start just to see that smile. 
“You wanna hear?” He asks suddenly, nearing you with his hands raised. “Listen!”
“No! No- I’m- I’m good, Katsuki.” You laugh, batting his hands away from your head. “I can hear it just fine from here, no need to singe my hair.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“I know.” You smile up at him, poking his broad chest. “So you like it? Right? Because it’s just a prototype, first draft, you know, so if there’s anything you want to change about it, let me know. Or if you just don’t want it I-”
“I’m fuckin’ keepin’ it.”
“Huh?”
“I’m keepin’ it. It’s cool as shit.” He smiles down at you, eyes crinkled at the edges. “Besides, stealth, right? Could blow a fucker up in the next room and you wouldn’t even know it!”
“But I- I made them for you to save people? Like to help them?”
“And they could be used to blow shit up more effectively too. Win fucking win.” Katsuki pulls you in suddenly, arms falling familiarly around your waist. “Good shit, sunshine. Thanks.” 
“Of course.” You sigh, looking down at your feet. “That’s what I was doing- when I was gone. Designing it for my project grade and then building it for you. Sorry I got so carried away, I didn’t realize I was gone so long, you know?” 
“You’re still stupid for it, but it’s fine. Fuckin’ get it.” He grumbles. “You’re done now or whatever, right?”
“With school? Yeah I mean, I’ve still got graduation and stuff but otherwise I’m pretty much-
“Move in with me.”
“Huh?”
“God, you always make me fuckin’ say it again!” He flusters, voice loud and raspy. “I said- move in! Here! You’re fuckin’ disappearin’ all the goddamn time to wherever the fuck and I’m sick of it!”
“Y-you want me to move in? 
“That’s what I just fuckin’ said! Idiot!” He thunders, face a violent red when you look up at him. “And I’m not gonna fuckin’ say it again so you either have to say yes or no because I-”
“Yes. Obviously. Of course I’ll move in!” You say, warmth filling your chest as you throw your arms around his neck. “I love you, of course I will!” 
You see the smile he can’t contain- one so dazzling and arresting, as he looks at you. One exactly similar to the brilliant one from earlier. You couldn’t believe that sentiment made you emotional- the thought that you made him just as happy as explosions did, of all things. But it did make you emotional. It really, really, did.
“What’re you- stop cryin’.” He says suddenly, calloused fingers catching your tears. “Why’re you cryin’? I didn’t even say anythin’ rude this time!” 
“No, it’s not that.” You sniffle, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “I’m just happy. Really, really happy. I love you, you angry fucking man.”
Katsuki leans in for another kiss, and you don’t dodge it this time. You meet him in the middle and melt into him just as much as he melts into you. You can feel his hand under your chin, the other on your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever been warmer than in that moment.
You’d been waiting your entire life for him. For all of this. You were warm and loved and so very, very happy that it nearly knocked you off your feet. 
Or it would’ve- but when your knees weakened he just held you closer, righting you without missing a beat. You suddenly loved him for that, and for everything else too. You loved him for all that he was and his angry words and his subtle gestures. He was sizzling gunpowder and sharp steel and seared ashes, but he was the softest landing you’d ever known too. There was no hitting the ground with him, and he’d never let you fall alone. 
You’d know Katsuki was forever since the day your tattoo appeared, but it didn’t truly sink in until you’d learned to love him. Until you’d known him. Now you knew him like the back of your hand; you saw his face behind your eyelids, heard his voice in your dreams, and thought about his touch every waking moment. He was your other-half, as scary and loud and intense as he was, and you wouldn’t change a single thing about him.
He pulls away suddenly, and when you glance up at him he’s staring right at you. 
“I love you.”
Your breath catches. You thought you were thrilled to hear the words last night- but it was nothing in comparison to now. Bakugou was finally looking at you, catching your gaze and holding eye-contact and his voice was soft like you’d never heard it before. His tone was bare, no anger or attitude or bite- just him and three little words that took your breath away.
In that moment, Katsuki is the only person in the entire world. There was no one else and no other conclusion, and of course you ended up here. He was the only ending you’d ever surrender to. The only finality that could ever possibly taste so sweet. 
And suddenly, all at once, you loved him all over again. 
//-//
i- sob. plS this was so much fun to write and im gonna miss it sm !! 
once again, thank u to everyone who liked and commented and reblogged any part of this! this is the first ever multi-chapter fanfic i’ve ever written , and i really really was nervous about my characterization and writing and stuff, but you all made me feel so welcome here.  i appreciate it sm. way more than any of you know.
anyways, thank u once again for reading lovelies and i hope u all stay safe. i love y’all. <333
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northisnotup · 3 years
Text
"You may think you're the only person who can see him for what he is, but you're not."
Laurent didn't startle. He huffed, almost under his breath, as though he was sparing Damen.
Damen did not approach him as he would have with any other new lover. Did not cross the room and take Laurent into his arms. Did not attempt to soothe him physically. Something in the rigid line of Laurent's back told him it wouldn't be appreciated.
"What do you think you see?" Laurent asked.
"I see you here," Damen said, and saw, in the haunch of Laurent’s shoulder’s, the sly remark hit.
"You think I should return then? Venture back into the viper pit?"
"I think you cannot protect your brother's throne at a disused fort," Damen said evenly. Even calling Acquitart a fort was being kind. He did not say what they both knew, that having Damen here was wildly impractical, and antithesis to that goal as well. That having Damen in his bed was proving true all the worst rumors about him which slithered in that pit. There was no point in saying it.
"Being here is the only way to protect the throne," Laurent corrected him. "My Uncle wants power. Right now, he satisfies that with the boys in his bed and the poison in my brother's ear. He won't be satisfied forever. And if he does somehow," his voice gave the slightest hitch but he pushed through, "kill Auguste and manage to pass it off as an accident, I am still next in line. And being here means I am not close enough for him to kill two birds with one stone."
"What did he do to you?" Through all of Laurent's plans, counter-plans, caveats and contingencies, he remained sure of only one thing: that his Uncle was dangerous, ruthless and willing to do or say anything which would keep him in power.
Laurent's voice was ice itself. "He never touched me."
"But?"
It settled between them. Damen thought to take it back, but he could see Laurent wavering, his fingers drumming on the vanity, staring at his reflection but not seeing it. Finally, as though pulled out of him: "He made it clear that he could."
There was more, Damen knew instantly there was a nightmare of helplessness waiting on the tip of Laurent's poisoned tongue, but he swallowed it back. Damen didn't push.
Not for that, at least. "Why are you here, Laurent?"
Laurent could have gone to Marlas, or Fontaine. He could have decided to visit Ios under the guise of fostering relations. He had family to the far north, through his mother's side. Acquitart was nothing, compared to that.
"We're not on crownlands here, did you know? We have our own honor-code here. Our own growing season and taxes. Acquitart is its own territory, it belongs to the Dauphin, always. It is not a fortress, and cannot withstand a siege. But to march on Acquitart he would have to draw up formal documents and obey the rules of war. Even if he could get that past the council, there is always the foundations to consider."
Damen nodded. "Artesian, yes?"
"Yes. There are routes out of Acquitart known only to the Dauphin. And I have allies in Vask," a nod toward Damen coupled with a sly smile that had Damen shifting where he stood, "and Akielos."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Laurent had been surprisingly forthright with him since the moment they met here. Whereas before in their dealings (Damen would have liked to call it a courtship, except that their relationship thus far had lacked anything at all resembling what Damen knew as courtship.) Laurent had held him at arms length, taking pains to avoid him, talking around him and even flirting all but obliquely.
"Do you want the truth or something beautiful?" Laurent huffed again, this one punctuated by a bitter little laugh. He took some crumbly green paste from a jar and began mixing it with hot water from a jug beside him.
Damen answered him anyway. "The truth."
He saw in the mirror Laurent's mouth twist into a droll smile, as though he should have expected Damen's answer.
He really should have. Damen had never in his life chosen something pretty over something real. That was why he was here, with Laurent.
"Because it doesn't matter. None of it. Telling you doesn't matter. It isn't real. You're not a player, Damen. Just a pawn. We're all just pawns." He began to smear the paste onto his face, scrubbing it in  over his chin and nose while smoothing it over his cheeks and under his eyes.
Damen chewed on his tongue, not allowing the sting of those words to linger. "What is that?"
"Herbs and clay, it cleans the face and makes you smell nice. Which I need, apparently."
Damen frowned. "Who says you don't smell nice?"
"Auguste. He says I smell too often of the stables," the corner of Laurent's mouth lifted into the smallest smile as he took a cloth and dampened it in the hot water, slowly cleaning the paste away.
"Perhaps he was telling you that you leave too often," Damen said. It reminded him of how Kastor would always claim to smell perfume on Damen's chitons, something which would get him a lecture from their father and Hypermenestra both for shirking his duties just to take someone to bed. Damen would have been angrier about it, if it was always a baseless accusation.
Case in point.
Laurent continued to clean his face, staring at nothing again. Damen wasn't sure it had ever occurred to him that it wasn't the scent Auguste objected to.
Damen crossed the room then, approaching carefully but coming close all the same. He placed one hand low on Laurent’s back to brace himself as he leaned in, nosing behind his ear and sniffing at some of the paste Laurent had missed.
Then he sneezed.
“Herbs,” he complained, rubbing his itching nose against the thick brocade over Laurent’s shoulder.
“It’s the same herb that flavored your dinner last night,” Laurent rolled his eyes.
“I liked it better then,” Damen said.
“I’ll be sure to tell the chef,” Laurent returned, but Damen could feel him smothering laughter.
The atmosphere between them had lightened, as Damen intended. Though he hadn’t intended it quite this way. He kissed Laurent’s cheek, soft and dry and lightly scented. “Write to your brother, you may have more allies in Arles than you think.”
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Note
So Jon and Sansa both see a crime being commited and become prime witnesses to arrest this big crime mastermind (Petyr? Or maybe Tywin?) and they have to go to witness protection... Only witness protection makes them pretend to be a married couple when they actually don't know each other. Does that sparkle something in that brilliant brain of yours as a prompt?
Look I'm in a Mood™ today and wrote this in a weird fugue state so don't @ meeeeee. I also like barely edited this so who knows if it makes sense, and grammar? I barely know her.
Also, I don’t really know how to do trigger warning tags, so this is my warning that there are vague mentions of blood/gore/violence.
.
.
Sometimes when she wakes up, she forgets.
But then she looks around the room that isn't her room and she has to tell herself that it is. This is her room. This is her home. That is her husband downstairs making breakfast.
(And sometimes she wakes up unable to breathe, the dreams are so real; the blood and brains and pieces of skull spraying the wall in front of her, the sounds of men pleading for their lives. The strong arm wrapped around her, one hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, the only thing that kept her still and quiet and hidden under the desk, the only reason she's alive. He's downstairs making breakfast.)
….
If there was ever a place to get lost, she thinks, it's here.
She stares out the window of her house, the same as every other house on the street. Row after row of identical houses. Neighborhoods of them, the suburbs stretching on forever. They've been here for two months and she doesn't even know her neighbor's names. The one across the street is Edmond, she thinks. Maybe. Edmure? No, if it were Edmure, she would remember, because of-
(But Alayne Stone doesn't have an Uncle Edmure.)
“I'm headed out.”
She turns to look at her husband.
“Have a good day,” she calls, just like she does every day. She watches him walk out to their nondescript grey sedan, just like he does every day. He backs it out of the driveway, then drives west, towards the main road.
They don't talk about before.
He is Aemon Stone. They met in college, in a geography course that they both almost failed, and they fell in love. They just got married and moved here - not that any of their neighbors have asked, so she's only had to tell that story to her new coworkers at the craft store.
They're trying to start a family.
(Jon, she thinks his name is, she remembers the agents calling him that, before they were handed folders with their new lives inside. But Jon is not her husband. Aemon is.)
Sometimes she likes to think she's a hero, giving up her whole world just to take down the bad guy. She's a hero, a martyr, the protagonist of her own daydreams. Her actions will save the lives of countless others.
(The reality is that she had no choice. They gave her one, technically, she doesn't have to testify against Petyr Baelish, but they all knew there was no choice. If she stayed, he would've found her. He would have killed her and anyone she could have possibly told about what she saw. She knows Aemon had no choice, either, and sometimes she wonders what he gave up. But they don't talk about before.)
She tries not to let her mind wander too much, but it's hard not to. Her life is routine. Mundane. She makes friends with her coworkers but she can't – she won't– let them get too close.
The problem with all her free, mundane time is that it gives her space to think – gives her time to regret.
She remembers that weekend, remembers thinking what harm could it do? Remembers thinking the bachelorette party sounded so fun. Remembers taking cash out to play the slot machines, ordering drink after drink until she felt numb.
It all goes a bit fuzzy after that. No matter how hard she tries, she can never remember how she got into the back halls of the casino, to the places where guests aren't allowed. She remembers a strange man kissing her, large, with scarring across his face, who told her that a pretty bird like her shouldn't be back here and demanded a kiss as payment. She remembers running, running, running.
If only she hadn't run.
If she hadn't run, she wouldn't have found herself in that room. She wouldn't have heard the door opening, turned around to see him, watched his face twist in horror when he saw her. He wouldn't have had to tell her get down, hide.
She remembers not being able to move, frozen to the spot at the sight of the gun at his hip. She remembers the way he'd pulled her down under the desk, one arm around her waist to keep her still, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, just in time, just before the door opened again.
(And she remembers the men who came in right after, the gruff where the fuck did Rivers get to?)
She's seen the tattoo.
(She doesn't think she was supposed to. Aemon Stone shouldn't have a tattoo.)
They try not to get in each other's way – he works days, she works closings. She sleeps in the master bed, he sleeps in a guest room down the hall. He wakes up early and makes breakfast and leaves her a plate. She eats while he goes for a run. But every once in a while...
That day he'd been coming back from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. She's never upstairs when he takes a shower, but she had gotten the urge to read, for the first time in months, and had gone up to grab one of the books that came with the house when she ran into him in the hall.
And there, on his chest, right above his heart, the mockingbird tattoo.
(Aemon Stone is her husband. He is not one of them.)
(But Jon Snow was.)
She probably should be scared, but she can never find it in her to be. Their handlers wouldn't have put them in the same house if they thought he'd hurt her.
(He's the reason she's alive. His arm around her waist, his hand over her mouth. Get down. Hide.)
Sometimes she wants to ask – why?
Why did he hide her?
Why is he here?
He was one of them, there's a tattoo on his chest that proves it.
Why did he save her? Give up everything for her to live?
She slips, once.
She's at work, in the break room, heating up a mug of soup in their tiny, low watt microwave. The break room TV is on, the news is playing, and then he's there.
Petyr Baelish, donating a giant check to an orphanage. Everyone's clapping and cheering him on and all she can hear are the screams of two men, pleading for their lives. Begging Petyr Baelish to stop. (They had wives and children and their screams echo in her head and-)
“Alayne?” her coworker, Myranda, shakes her arm. “I think your food's done?”
She's shaking so hard that the soup sloshes over the side of her mug and she apologizes as she cleans it up and Myranda asks if she's sick or something. She has to go home early because she vomits into the break room trash can.
At home, Aemon is watching football on TV and he's surprised when she comes home early. All he says is, “everything ok?” and she knows what he's asking.
“Everything's ok,” she tells him and he nods and she goes upstairs.
They don't talk about the past, but they don't talk about the present, either.
(And they definitely don't talk about the future.)
There's one time she doesn't wake up confused or breathless.
She wakes up screaming.
In her dream, he finds her. In her dream, Petyr Baelish walks around the desk and bends down and reaches under and pulls her out. In her dream, he tortures her like he did those men. In her dream, he puts a gun to her head, just like he did-
She wakes up screaming.
The door to her room slams open and she takes a gasping breath and looks up at her husband, standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in his hand. His hair is wild and his eyes are wide as they search her room and she tries to tell him it's all in her head but she can't make her voice work. When she tries, the words just come out as a small sob and she watches his tensed shoulders relax and he sets down the baseball bat.
She curls into herself and cries into her bent knees – for her dreams and her fears and the knowledge that this might never end. It's a choking, clawing abyss in her chest that's been growing as the days and weeks and months slide by – that she will never see her family again. She'll never eat mom's cooking or hear her dad yell at the TV when his team loses or see Robb's infectious smile or argue with Arya or talk about philosophy with Bran or watch one of Rickon's basketball games. She'll never get to play with Lady again.
She has kept them locked away inside her, tried to forget about them because Alayne Stone doesn't have a family.
The bed dips and she lets out another gasping sob as she feels an arm settle around her shoulders. “Alayne,” he says, and then again. Again and again, until - “Sansa.”
“I'm not Sansa,” she whispers when she finally looks up.
“Sometimes you need to be,” he says, his voice is steady and he brings one hand up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “It's hard, not everyone can just change who they are. Especially not like this.”
“You say that like you're some expert,” she sniffs, wiping at her cheeks now that her tears have slowed. She feels like a mess – her eyes feel hot and puffy, her nose feels raw, her throat is sore, but she also feels more human than she has in months.
He hesitates, seems to think hard about something before - “Aemon Stone isn't the first person I've had to become.” She jerks back a bit, but she doesn't pull away.
(He saved her life.)
“Who else?”
“Before this, I was Aegon Rivers.”
“I thought your name was Jon Snow? That's what they called you.”
“Jon Snow,” he says, voice low and soothing and she feels herself relax, settles into the warmth of his arms a bit more, “is a federal agent who went undercover with the Mockingbirds two years ago.”
She looks at him, then – really looks at him. At his grey eyes and his long face and his black hair wild from sleep, at the scar that runs through his eyebrow and the dark stubble that he meticulously shaves off every morning.
“Jon Snow fits you better,” she tells him.
“And Sansa Stark fits you.”
“I'm not Sansa Stark anymore,” she reminds him again, feeling her voice waver, though she thought she was past it. “This was just a bad dream, I promise I'll do better.”
“Like I said, sometimes it's hard,” he tells her. “And sometimes it's easy to forget who you are.”
“Is it for you?” she asks. He doesn't answer, but she thinks he doesn't need to, she can see it in him and she wonders how much of Jon Snow he remembers. Two years is a long time to be someone else. “I don't...” her voice breaks and she has to drop into a whisper. “I don't want to forget them. I know I have to-”
“What if,” he cuts in when her words fail her completely, “what if we're Jon Snow and Sansa Stark here?”
“They told us we-”
“No,” he shakes his head, “I don't mean... not in the house. Not during the day. But how about, once a week, at night, when it's just us, when the rest of the world is sleeping – I'll come in here and just for an hour, we can remember.”
The words make her ache and she nods and looks over at her clock. One hour – one hour to remember who she is and where she comes from. One hour to talk about anything and everything – about the past and the present and the future. It's not a lot and it's a risk and against the rules, but-
“Yes. Please.”
He nods and looks a bit grim and she wonders, once again – why? She doesn't think he wants to talk about Jon Snow. He's doing it for her – he's saving her life again and she still doesn't know why. Maybe she'll find out, some day.
“Ok,” he breathes, like he's jumping off the deep end, “Sansa Stark – what's your favorite color?”
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