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latenighttalking00 · 1 year

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A Work of Art

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader

Summary: You are a Marchioness from france and your mother is adamant that you wed. She is a very close friend of the Dowager Vicountess Bridgerton who has so generously agreed to be your sponsor for the season. Perhaps in doing this, she has unknowingly found her son's perfect match as well.

Warnings: slow-ish burn, friends to lovers, smut, 18+, minors dni, hair pulling, possessive/dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving). This is just porn with a plot.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Hi! This is my first time writing, so apologies if it's a bit rough; English isn't my native language. Hopefully, you all absolutely drool over Benedict the same way I do. enjoy!

Once the social season had begun its approach, you and your family make haste on your return from france. Due to your newly given title, you are projected to be quite the diamond this season indeed.

As a close friend of the family, the Dowager Viscountess, Violet Bridgerton kindly offers to sponsor your debut this season, meaning that it is now of the utmost importance to arrive promptly at the Bridgerton home in London before the season is to begin.

As you sit in the drawing room, awaiting the next potential suitors you will inevitably send on their way, the clear and evident dread in your expression does not go unnoticed by your mother. A quick swat to your knee from her fan catches your attention, a visible look of warning on her face as your eyes meet hers.

"I do hope that attitude of yours is quick to dissipate." She sighs, "Men will find you quite inadequate to wed if you are to continue this ridiculous behavior. It is quite unladylike." Your mother's words cut right through you as if she had taken a hot paring knife to both of your ears. Not being able to withstand it any longer, you quickly stand from your seat and interrupt her.

"Mother, this gown and the line of men outside the door are quite suffocating enough; no need for your incessant nagging as well." You take a moment to pause, regaining your composure.

"I believe I am feeling quite faint; perhaps I've seen enough suitors today." You threaten rather than suggest, "I will return to my chambers and perhaps get a bit of rest seeing as the sun has already began it’s departure from the sky."

You bow and quickly excuse yourself before making haste out the door, walking as fast as your feet can take you, right past the men who are practically begging for just a minute of your attention.

You race directly to your bedroom, entering quickly and not even fully shutting the door before you are pulling down the zipper of your gown and letting it fall to the floor. "This retched thing must come off immediately," you mumble to yourself as you pull at the laces of your corset, loosening them just enough to slide off your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you slip off your stays and slip on a beautiful white nightgown you purchased from one of the most talented modiste in france.

Shortly after the maids come to collect your gown, you are quick to wander down the halls in search of a cure to your relentless boredom. you find what appears to be an art studio and you are instantly overjoyed. you quietly sneak in through the door left ajar.

Art was your pride and joy; your sketches and the ability to produce beautiful works on canvas were the only things keeping you from becoming a mad woman.

Unbeknownst to you, Violet's second-eldest son and the owner of said art studio had just returned home from the gentleman's club. As he makes his way down the hall, prepared to return to his studio and peacefully finish up some things he started the night prior, he is met with complete and udder surprise at the sight of a woman flipping through his sketchbooks.

He feels as if the air has been knocked right from his lungs. Never once has a woman looked so real, raw, and simply ethereal to him in nothing but a simple yet elegant night gown, the pages in between your delicate fingers, the way in which you sit, your effortless and beautiful features, and the way they change and turn to show your focus, the true and utter intrigue at the charcoal etched on the paper is more than enough to bring a man directly to his knees.

He watches as you adjust your position, your nightgown sliding up your thighs as you cross a leg over the other. He feels as if he might faint.

“those are from my time traveling.” he points, making his way in to the room.

So lost in thought, you are quickly brought back by the sound of the deep and sultry voice coming from the hallway, it sends chills down your body, you are unable to fight the butterflies in your stomach and are completely unprepared for what you’re eyes are met with the second they dare to leave the pages in front of you. He is perhaps one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen, the way his features darken in the dim candle light could cause scandal merely on its own.

As he makes his way over to you, you scramble to find any sort of words to not appear as a complete and udder fool. “désolée, my Lord. All this beautiful artwork caught my eye and i could not help myself.” your voice only making his new found attraction grow even stronger.

“Benedict Bridgerton..” he says just loud enough for you to hear. He is quick to take your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss y/n y/l/n” you respond, a blush creeps over your cheeks as your eyes meet his. Your name and accent are both very quick explanations as to why a very random beautiful woman was wondering in

his family home.

“Ah yes, the Marchioness from France. My mother has done quite a bit of boasting upon your arrival, i can now see why she was so keen on you being the diamond of this social season” he chuckled lightly “merci, Lord Bridgerton.” you offer him a warm smile as you place the sketch book in his hands.

Your hand grazes his and you feel as if your body is set aflame. You quickly fumble to stand, attempting to leave before any further scandal is to happen. he is quick to catch you by the arm, his light grasp more than enough to keep you in place.

“Please, stay as long as you’d like.” He offers, taking a step towards you, but you are quick to shake your head, knowing staying any longer may very well affect your title and rank during this very precious season.

“You are more than kind.” you place a hand over his and squeeze lightly. He leans even closer, your face mere inches from his. his scent fills your nose and you cannot control the heat that consumes your body, the sheer need you have for him in this very moment. “I must- i uh-..” he raises an eyebrow at your words. though his proximity fogs your brain, you attempt to compose yourself. “Perhaps i can show you some of my art in the duration of my stay here.“ he smirks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip as he nods “if what you create is half as beautiful as you, my art will never hold a candle to yours.” he compliments.

Your breathe catches in your throat as his words. “..Benedict- Apologies, Lord Bridgerton..” you quickly correct yourself, the use of his first name not going unnoticed by him. “I’m sure both your and my Mother will have quite the earful if i am found in here, i must go.” Before he is even able to protest, you are gone.

As the days pass, You begin to consume his every waking thought, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your skin on his is burned in to his memory and he cannot shake his want for you.

Anthony is quick to notice his admiration, the wandering stares and close proximity immediately become apparent in Anthony’s eyes. As the family settles in the drawing room, Anthony is quick to pull His younger brother aside “You’ve grown quite close with Marchioness” Anthony offers his younger brother a warning glance and Benedict simply smirks in return “Brother, are you suggesting that i’ve compromised Miss y/l/n?” he laughs. Anthony in no way finds this amusing “See to it that your intentions are well thought out and you are thinking with your brain rather than something else. She is a Marchioness, toying with oversea affairs may be more than risky, even for a Bridgerton.” Anthony notes, the clear and evident weariness in his voice wipes the smile right off Benedict’s face

“Brother, do remind me. Did you not ask for one Sharma’s hand in marriage and then proceed to marry the other? You need not inform me on scandal for i am more than well aware of what i am doing.” he place a hand on Anthony shoulder and squeezes light before walking away.

time skip

Benedict does everything in his power to gain every fraction of your attention when it is available. The two of you spending more time together than any of the men attempting to court you. This new grown fondness blossoms quickly and Benedict soon becomes one of your most trusted friends. Spending late nights in his art studio, promenades in the garden, pall mall with his family. You’ve never felt more at home than with your dear Benedict and his lovely family. This fondness grows very quickly to something much stronger. Knowing Benedict’s stance on courting and marriage in general, you shake the thought. Knowing your dear friend will never see you as anything but.

While enjoying another late night in his studio, you can’t help but feel different. You both are well aware your time together is coming to end. Suitors begin growing impatient and proposals begin rolling in faster than the tide.

“I quite like Lord Lumley, he is handsome and he finds interest in poetry.” Benedict is quick to laugh “Lord Lumley is a dimwit after nothing but your title.” you wince at his words “Clearly he’s much more of a gentleman than you.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” he asks, the change in his tone sending heat right between your thighs. He rises from his place on the stool and saunters over to you, his large frame towering over yours.

“Repeat what you said.” he orders

“Ben i was merely kidding i-“ you stutter, his proximity making your skin feel as if it were on fire.

“Do not make me ask you again.” he warns, a smirk on his face

You are a bit taken a back by his demeanor but the insatiable desire in your body fills you with a sudden surge of confidence. “Lord Lumley is more of a gentleman than you, Lord Bridgerton.”

Benedict lets out a low chuckle before leaning down, his mouth right by your ear.

“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Lord Lumley isn’t plagued by the same un-gentleman like thoughts that fill my head the moment you step into a room.” he sighs, his breath on your skin only making matters worse.

Your hands find his half buttoned shirt and you press your hands lightly to his chest “Benedict.” you warn.

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes with his own. Your noses practically grazing as he speaks. “Tell me now that you do not desire me.” His hands rest on either side of your face “Simply speak the words and i will respectfully withdraw and allow you to be with whomever you like but first you must tell me you do not desire me and you wish for me to leave you alone.”

“Ben.” You mumble quitely. Every feeling or emotion that the second eldest Bridgerton has ever caused immediately rises to the surface. At a complete loss for words, you do what you feel is right in the very moment and you bring your lips to his.

The kiss quickly fills with passion, weeks of hidden adoration and care comes bubbling over the surface.

“Marry me.” he say breathlessly as he breaks from the kiss. “You have shown me what is it truly like to admire a woman. To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all of her defenses crumble and that you would willingly take on any pain or burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. You make me feel what only a true poet describes." his works nearly bring you to your knees as tears threaten to escape your eyes. “I would move the heavens down to earth for you if i knew it would make you smile.”

“Benedict.. Je vous aime.” you reassure him “I love you mon chéri, more than the moon loves the night sky. You are my everything, my best-friend. I would give anything to be your wife.” He pulls you back in for another kiss which very quickly becomes heated.

He trails hot kisses all over your jaw, neck and bosom. “My beautiful Fiancée.” he mumbles, his wandering hands sliding their way up your thighs, threatening to breach the hem of your nightgown. You are immediately reminded of your current location and you push the dark haired boy back “Ben.. not here” you breathe out, The second Bridgerton son just smirks before kneeling down in front of you.

Unsure of what he’s planning, you remain silent, eyes trained on his as he begins trailing kisses up from your ankle to your inner thigh. His hands trail up the back of your legs, giving your ass a playful squeeze as he reaches it, causing a gasp to escape from your lips.

The mere sight of him like this sends heat directly between your thighs, all logical thinking thrown out the window as he begins to tug your panties down your thighs. A blush creeps over your cheeks and your hands find his hair, tugging lightly. Benedict continues with no hesitation, pressing light kisses all over your inner thighs, leading right up to your aching core. You’re unable to fight back the sounds that leave your lips as you feel his tongue pressed against your clit. “Christ Benedict… you’re going to be the death of me.”

He wastes no time, lapping, kissing and sucking at your soaked heat as strong hands grip on to your thighs, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You lean against his desk to keep yourself upright while quiet moans and whimpers escape your lips, your hands pulling and tugging at his messy black hair, only encouraging him more. He pulls back only for a moment to look up at you “You taste fucking divine, my beautiful work of art.”

He is quick to return to your soaked heat. As his tongue works relentlessly on your clit, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before slowly thrusting them in and out. Shortly after, you feel an unfamiliar knot form in the pit of your stomach and Benedict is aware immediately due to your incoherent mumbles and the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s my girl..” he says breathlessly “just like that..” After hearing his words, you completely unravel, shaky moans escape your lips as one hand grips on to the table and the other with a tight hold on your Fiancées hair.

Once your body has relaxed, he gently pulls your panties back up before standing to face you. You watch as he brings his fingers to your mouth “Open.” he commands and you immediately oblige, opening your mouth as he slides his fingers past your lips. The unfamiliar taste and the sheer sight in front of you causes a blush to fall over your face. He removes his fingers with a groan and offers your a smirk “You, my dear Fiancée are going to be the death of Me.”

A/N: Hi guys! I really hope every likes this :) if you have any request, feel free to send them to me :)

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x fem! reader #benedict #bridgerton #smut #anthony bridgerton #benedict smut #benedict bridgerton smut

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allywthsr · 9 months

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MAKING ORNAMENTS | (l.norris)

summary: you and your kids make ornaments, lando is a supportive dad

wordcount: 1.2k words

pairing: dad!landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: kids

notes: I want Lando to take care of my kids 🥺

advent calendar

You sat with Lando and your two kids, Louis and Sofia around the table, craft items in front of you. Louis was three years and little Sofia was just half a year old, she currently lay in Lando’s arms, while he was feeding her. She latched just fine at the beginning, but two weeks ago she started to refuse your breasts and only wanted to be fed by the bottle, it wasn’t your ideal breastfeeding ending, but if she felt more comfortable with the bottle, you weren’t one to deny her that.

Lando stared down at her with a big smile, still in a dream that she was here and he was able to protect her, his little princess. Not that he wasn’t protective over Louis, but he was a little boy, he was headstrong and already stood up for himself. Sofias' hand was wrapped around Lando’s thumb and he left kisses every now and then on her forehead, smelling that baby smell each time, she smiled up at him, clearly happy that he was feeding her.

But back why you were sitting around the table with the family, you wanted to make Christmas ornaments and presents. You found some cute stuff online and wanted to try it out with your kids.

The one you liked the most was an ornament diy, you needed to take a bit of clay and form it into a flat round shape and press the kids‘ hand in the clay, afterwards, you needed to make a little hole at the top, where you could later put a thread through and hang it on the Christmas tree. So you got to work, rolling around the clay with your hand to warm it up a little. You pressed it on the table, that you covered with cling film, so it wouldn’t get dirty, and tried to flatten it, while keeping the round shape.

Louis wasn’t as happy with the idea of having to do crafts, he liked to play with his toy cars or stack his Lego Duplo on top of each other, the only crafty thing he liked was Play-Doh, it was rare that he wanted to draw.

When the clay was flattened enough and you made two of them, you ushered Louis to come to you, he climbed down his kiddy chair and you lifted him on your lap, ”Louis, do you want to press your hand in the clay? We then have your handprint on it.“

He looked at you with big eyes, ”Mama, why?“

Lando chuckled while Sofia was almost finished with her bottle.

”We then can hang it on our tree, as an ornament.“

”Why?“

By now Lando was laughing, Louis had his questioning phase at the moment, everything was questioned and he had to know the answer.

”Because it’s pretty and a good memory.“

He nodded and held out his hand to you, you gently grabbed his arm and pressed his hand into the clay, with your other hand you pressed his fingers more into the clay, making sure his handprint was fully on there.

Lifting his hand, you gasped at the handprint, it was perfect, ”Look, Louis! Your handprint, what do you think?“

”It’s pretty mummy, daddy, look!“

Lando got up with the empty bottle and Sofia and came around, so he was able to look at the handprint.

”Louis, you did so good! It’s beautiful.“

He brought the bottle to the kitchen and turned Sofia around so he could burp her, he came back and caressed Louis‘ head.

”Louis, do we want to do that again? It’s for Nana and Papa, so they have one as well for their tree.“

He nodded and held his already dirty hand to you again. You repeated the step you did a few seconds ago, and when he lifted his hand, the three of you gasped.

”Mummy! My hand.“

”Pretty, isn’t it? Should we go and wash your hands?“

Louis nodded and you lifted him off your lap and sat him on the floor where he started to run to the bathroom. Quickly you left a kiss on your daughter's cheek and went after your son, to help him wash his hands. Once his hands were clean and you returned to the table with Louis, Lando, and Sofia waiting for you two, Sofia was burped and ready for her turn, not that she knew what was happening soon.

”Look, Louis, I will make a hole in the clay and once it’s dry, we can hang it on our Christmas tree. Do you want to watch your sister do the same?“

He excitedly nodded and sat on his kiddy chair again, playing with a few cars while you made the holes in the clay. Sofia was getting fuzzy, Lando tried to calm her by bouncing her up and down, but she was not having it.

”Daddy, do you want me to talk to Sof?“

He was so mature for his age and already the best big brother ever, he knew when Sofia was fuzzy, not a lot helped, she mostly wanted to be held and played with. Lando nodded and lowered Sofia, so Louis was able to look at her while standing up.

”Sof, you can stop crying, it’s not scary, and when it’s finished we have a pretty-looking ornament, you don’t need to cry.“

You teared up at what Louis was saying, he was truly the best big brother ever, protecting his sister at all costs and trying to cheer her up. He kissed her cheek and Lando gave Sofia to you, so you could get over with the clay part pretty quickly. While Louis was calming her down, you already made two round shapes, the only thing that was missing was her handprint.

You positioned her so that you could press her hand in the clay, Lando helped you with gently adding pressure on her hand to get her handprint on there. When you lifted her hand, and the print was beautiful, you immediately pressed her hand against the other clay, Lando repeating the same as he did with the other one.

Louis squealed when he saw her handprints and Lando took her to the bathroom, where he cleaned Sofia's hands.

You moved the clays to a safe spot where they could dry, and Louis couldn’t reach them.

”Mummy, when’s daddy coming back? I want to play with him.“

”Soon baby, he’s putting Sof down for a nap, did you like crafting? We can do it every year and see your hands grow!“

”Yes, mummy, but I can go play now?“

You chuckled and nodded, when Lando came back and kissed your cheek, you told him that Louis was waiting for him in the living room.

”I love you, and our kids so much.“

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #christmas tree #dad!lando norris

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luckycloverforducks · 7 months

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Fuck it, HH swap AU

Their core personalities and backgrounds stay the same, it's mostly a role switch

Niffty <--> Husker

Angel Dust <--> Vaggie

Alastor <--> Charlie

(the typical for swap AUs, I know,,)

Everyone else stays the same

These r edits bc I was just figuring out their designs for the AU, I'll draw them normally another time (Husker isn't here cuz I can't find a good png of the mf)

In this AU Alastor started the hotel mostly because he randomly thought up the idea once and thought, "that's fucking hilarious, I'm doing that" + a secondary sentimental reason he'd kill me for saying (he got genuinely fully invested in the cause eventually)

He advertised it on his radio show suddenly out of the blue after 7 and a half years of radio (lol) silence. Alastor still owns Husker's and Niffty's souls but they're also obviously friends (or atleast close to it)

Also he can read tarot bc why not :3

Charlie is closer to her dad in this AU and more sheltered, adopting a more aloof, smug, and dangerous persona so sinners take her seriously, she also has a very slight condescending outlook towards sinners but she's at her core still compassionate and still views them as her people and want to protect them to a certain extent, and she still thinks the Exterminations are unnecessary and cruel, but she doesn't feel like she can do much about it since according to Lucifer's stories and discouragement, she knows heaven likely wouldn't listen much if at all, but when she heard of Alastor's little project it resparked hope in her and she decided to invest in it, becoming co-owner and funder for the hotel.

Angel Dust/Anthony never made a deal with Valentino and actually stayed in his family's crime/mafia business for the 1st half of him being in Hell, but his dad is a POS and kicked him out for being gay so he started doing s3x work, and then he met Alastor after he brutalized his harassers one day, and Angel wanted to repay the favor somehow. Alastor seems interested in him so they struck a deal (not a soul deal, just a simple deal) which has Angel/Anthony is under Alastors protection in exchange for Angel/Anthony's loyalty and assistance when needed (which is a rare case so Angel still feels like he owes Alastor). They grow friendly with time, and Alastor offers to have him be patient zero for his redemption project, and he accepted.

Vaggie/Vi is still a fallen exterminstor and still met Charlie the same way she did in the show, but after that they went their separate ways and Vi finds herself making a deal with Velvette. Instead of being a pornstar like Angel in the show, she is an influencer and a rockstar/singer, she does enjoy making music and playing the guitar but Velvette tends to overwork her and make her do things she doesn't really like for views/popularity. Velvette is the nicest to Vi/Vaggie compared to with her other employees (which isn't a very highly set bar tbh) but she also frequently break her boundaries.

Vi met Charlie again during one of her concerts and they got close and started dating. (Also one sided Velvette x Vaggie is sort of slightly maybe canon in this AU bc toxic Yuri is fun (and it's only fully one sided after Charlie and Vaggie/Vi started dating))

She helps manage the hotel when needed, but is honestly only there cause Charlie is.

Not much about Niffty changes tbh (she's perfect the way she is, utterly unhinged 😍) she's just a bit more mellowed out and less hyper (she's still hyper just not all the time like in the show) and she's also a bartender and has surprisingly good taste for alcohol, and also frequently makes borderline poisonous drinks while experimenting, but when she gets it right it's really good. Doesn't stop the others of being terrified of her drinks though

Husker is a more smiley and charming in this AU, using a laid back attitude to put people at ease and more willing to open up to him if they need to (he used to use the information people share as blackmail when he needs to back when he was an Overlord, although he never actually needs to spread anything, just threats), and he's still very observant but he's also slightly more unhinged- He's a sort of butler/cleaner for the hotel

He still gets grumpy time to time, but mostly when he's drunk, which isn't as often anymore ever since Niffty was put in charge of the bar (understandably so)

He has a bit of an anger issue and also gets annoyed easily, and sometimes makes unhinged threats as a sort of joke (they stop being much of a joke once you genuinely piss him off)

He likes things clean and tidy because it helps him pretend to be put together

He and Alastor are a bit friendlier compared to in the show, hes still one of the few people that knows more about Alastor, though hes still bummed about the whole being owned by Alastor thing (Husker can also read tarot to a lesser extent bc Al taught him for funzies and Husker thought it's interesting)

His gambling addiction is also ever so slightly worse

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin angel dust #niffty #hazbin vaggie #swap au #hazbin hotel swap au #velvette mentioned #radiodust #chaggie #Velvette x Vaggie #seriously am i the only one who thought of this ship?#huskerdust #the ship tags are mostly just for reach but at the same time not really #i love them #btw #if u even care #UpsideDown/Swap AU

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yesimwriting · 10 months

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okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader

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delicatebarness · 3 months

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The Barnes-Rogers Family Adventures | Welcome to the family, Alpine! #004

Summary: Peter asked for a puppy, Bucky and Tiny came back with a kitten...

Warnings: This post and series are safe for work (SFW) regressions. Nothing explicit. However, please be aware that the rest of my blog is NOT. NSFW accounts are welcome to read and reblog, but please keep all comments SFW out of consideration for other littles.

Word Count: 583

Series Masterlist

A/N: Oh, he'll get that dog. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @sapphirebarnes | Let me know if you want to be tagged specifically for this series.

For weeks Peter had been talking about puppies. He was reading books about them, drawing pictures of them, and he even had dreams about them. Each day, he brought it up to Steve and Bucky, hoping they’d agree.

One afternoon, Peter rushed into the living room to find Steve, a hopeful expression spread across his face. “Papa, can we get a puppy? Please?”

Sighing, Steve looked up from his book. “You know it’s a big responsibility, Buddy. We have to make sure we’re ready.”

Peter’s face fell, but he was not standing down. “I promise I’ll take care of him! I’ll feed him and walk him, and everything!”

Just then, you and Bucky came home, stepping into the house with your arms full of shopping bags. Your eyes twinkled with excitement as you beamed.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow as he stood, taking the bags from you.

A secretive smile tugged at both your and Bucky’s lips. “We’ve got a surprise,” Bucky said, glancing down at you. “Why don’t we show them?”

You nodded eagerly, running to the little box Bucky had placed by the door. Carefully pulling out a small, fluffy, white kitten. Its tiny meows filled the room as you held her to show everyone.

“Look, Papa! She’s a kitten!” you exclaimed, face glowing with joy.

“A kitten?” Peter’s eyes widened in surprise before his face fell once more. “But I wanted a puppy…”

Steve had been skeptical about a pet, however he was now struggling to keep a straight face. The kitten was adorable, and it was undeniable that his resolve weakened. “Well, I suppose a kitten is nice too,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady and nonchalant.

Bucky brushed his hand through Peter’s hair. “We thought a kitten might be a bit easier to manage, at least for now, Buddy.”

Peter’s initial disappointment faded as he watched the kitten playfully bat your fingers, causing you to giggle. “Can I have a hold?” he asked, cautiously stepping closer.

You nodded, carefully handing the kitten to Peter. “Daddy said we gotta be gentle,” your voice full of all the seriousness that you could muster.

Holding the kitten close, a smile spread across Peter’s face. “So soft,” he said, looking up at Bucky. “What’s her name?”

Steve was now fully charmed by the tiny creature, he crouched down beside Peter. “How about Whiskers?” he suggested as he reached out to pet the kitten’s head.

Bucky shook his head with a laugh. “That’s a bit cliche, don’t you think, Steve?”

You had been quietly watching until you suddenly piped up. “Daddy likes Alpine!” you said, clapping your hands together.

Peter looked down at the kitten, debating each name. “Alpine?” he mumbled before looking at you, he grinned when he saw the light in your eyes. “Welcome to the family, Alpine!”

As the evening went on, Alpine quickly made herself at home. She explored every nook and cranny of the house. You and Peter took turns playing with, laughter filling the house.

Steve and Bucky watched you all from the count, contentment settling over them. “You know, a kitten was a great idea,” Steve admitted, leaning into Bucky’s side.

Smiling, Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve, pulling him closer. “I thought so, but, you know he’s not going to give up on the puppy.” Peter overheard their conversation causing his eyes to flash with a spark of mischief. He most definitely was not giving up on a puppy.

---

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scoonsalicious · 5 months

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Unsatisfied, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: Following the epilogue to Unwanted, you and Bucky finally have your first night together in your new apartment. You haven't had sex with him in an entire year. You are feeling... unsatisfied.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, mentions of past trauma, Pocket has a panic attack, she is not as okay as I thought, Cards Against Humanity, Bucky making dirty promises I fully intend for him to keep.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: My goal tonight was to work on WFLT. I had good intentions, I swear. But, I can't get Bucky and Pocket out of my mind. THEN, this was supposed to be smut. Pure, filthy smut. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!

You loved your found family, you really did. Or, at least that’s what you kept reminding yourself as you actively tried to convince yourself not to kill them right this second.

You made eye contact with Bucky from where he sat on the loveseat across the living room from you, looking about as sexually frustrated as you felt. You ran a finger delicately along your collarbone as you watched him adjust himself in his seat, and as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, you–

“Hey, Kiddo,” Tony Stark called your attention to where he sat to the left of you. “Pick a Black Card. It’s your turn.”

Reluctantly, you drew your eyes away from your ridiculously attractive boyfriend and up to your psuedo-brother, former boss, who thought it had been a fantastic idea to have your entire team show up with pizzas to your brand new apartment, on your very first night there with Bucky, in order to play fucking Cards Against Humanity as a “morale-boosting exercise.”

Cock-blocking exercise was more like it.

You shot Tony a glare and reached across the coffee table to draw a card. Looking at it, you rolled your eyes in frustration before placing it face-up in front of you. “What gets me wet?” you read aloud from the card.

You were met with a room full of snickering as your teammates thumbed through their hands, searching for the best card to give to you. Bucky threw down a card almost immediately, catching your eye as he did so and winking at you. God, you needed everyone to leave so you could climb that man like a tree.

One by one, your team deposited their White Cards into a pile in front of you, and once everyone had played their hand, you picked them up, shuffling them around so you wouldn’t know who had put down what card.

You turned each over and read it aloud, asking each time: “What gets me wet?”

“Being a mother fucking sorcerer; Vehicular manslaughter; German Dungeon Porn; My fuckslave, Regianald; Auschwitz– ew; come on guys, really?-- My vagina– okay, actually factual– Dick Fingers; A juicy little booty that goes poot poot pooty; The Biggest, Blackest Dick– hilarious, Sam…”

“What?! You can’t know that’s mine, Baby Girl!” You shot Sam a knowing look. “Yeah, okay, it’s mine, but come on– it’s a good one!” he said with a laugh.

And then, there it was, the winner. You looked up and locked eyes with Bucky, who was smirking back at you with a wicked glint in his eye, and you knew instantly it was his card you were holding in your hand.

Flipping the card over, you read out loud with a giant smile on your face: “What gets me wet? Genetically engineered super soldiers.” Everyone around the coffee table groaned, knowing that there was no way any of their cards would have topped that. Not for you, anyway.

With a grin, Bucky reached over and took the Black Card, adding it to the pile of his wins in front of him.

“Ugh, no fair!” Nat pouted, gently tossing her hand of cards on the top of the coffee table.

“You gotta play to your audience, Nat,” Bucky said, spreading his legs as he leaned back on the love seat. “Can’t help it if I know what my girl likes.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re cheating,” Sam said. His words were meant to be playful, a sore-loser’s teasing lament, but you couldn’t help the rush of heartache those little syllables sent through your system, and your body froze.

It had been almost a year, you thought to yourself as you tried to breathe through your increasing anxiety without attracting unnecessary attention. A year of therapy and rebuilding trust. You were meant to be over this.

But clearly you weren’t.

“Excuse me,” you blurted out as you stood up, not bothering to offer an excuse for your rudeness or sudden departure. Trying to keep your breathing steady, you nearly sprinted out of the room and up the stairs until you were shutting the door of the ensuite bath in yours and Bucky’s master bedroom. The room you hadn’t even shared together yet, and now, on your first night in your new home, when you should be celebrating, becoming reacquainted with one another’s bodies, it would be permeated with thoughts of her.

You slid down the door to the cold tile floor, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to shake the memories from your mind’s eye. But they, and your tears, began to fall in earnest. Despite what you knew to be true– that Bucky loved you, had only ever loved you, your mind kept bringing you back to the events of last year– of all the times he abandoned you for her, left you alone when she needed him. The things he had said to you while he was inside of you because she had told him she liked it. The sight of her riding his dick in a derelict safehouse in Russia. Your bones snapping and a bullet ripping through your flesh.

You couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t you breathe?

You shoved your fist into your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. You were supposed to be over this, you kept reminding yourself. You were supposed to have forgiven him. But the memories brought about a visceral reaction you hadn’t experienced in months. Today had been meant to be a new beginning for the both of you, a fresh start. Something better, you had promised each other.

Why did it still hurt so much?

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. You could have been hyperventilating on the bathroom floor for minutes or hours; you couldn’t tell, when a soft knock reverberated through the surface of the door.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice was muffled through the wood. “Doll, I can hear you crying. Let me in.” His words were soft, understanding, sorrowful. He knew.

You couldn’t move. You wanted to open the door, to lose yourself in his embrace so badly, but you couldn’t control your body enough to coordinate movement. All you could do was hug yourself as you sobbed.

“Pocket,” you heard Bucky murmur through the door. “Baby, I need you to breathe for me, ok? Your gonna make yourself pass out. Just… just unlock the door, alright? That’s all you have to do for me, sweets. Just unlock the door.”

Unlock the door. You could do that. One, simple motion. You slowly lifted a trembling hand above your head, connecting with the doorknob by sense of touch, alone. With shaking fingers, you managed to disengage the lock.

At the sound of the click, you heard Bucky exhale in relief. “Okay. Good girl. I’m gonna come in now, okay, sweets?” You knew you should move– you were still curled up in front of the door, but you couldn’t get your body to cooperate. You tried to speak, but the only sound that came from your throat was another agonizing sob.

You heard the knob turn and the door begin to press against you. With gentle but steady pressure, Bucky opened the door, sliding your body across the bathroom tile in the process, but you barely noticed. He would always be a force that had the ability to move you at his will.

When there was enough space for him to fit his body through the door frame, Bucky squeezed himself in and turned to look behind the door, searching for you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, dropping down to his knees to join you on the tile. In an instant, he had you in his arms, picking you up and cradling you to his chest.

“I-I-I’m…” you stuttered, trying to form words through your sobs, “s–s–so s-s-sorry.”

Bucky tutted as he stroked your hair. “No, sweets, no. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He kissed the top of your head, and you found that your breathing began to steady in his presence. “My actions keep causing you pain.”

You shook your head vehemently, clutching to the fabric of his shirt as if your very life depended on it. “No,” you whispered. “It’s not… It’s not you.” You closed your eyes, trying to mold your jumbled emotions into a cohesive thought. “This place is supposed to be safe,” you told him, hoping he would follow what you were trying to say. “Ours. And then… when Sam said… that… it was… it was like her ghost walked right in the door. She’s still haunting me, Buck.”

You felt his arms tighten around you. “Sweetheart,” he murmured into your hair, “what do you need? What can I do?”

You wiped at your eyes and looked up at him with a tear-streaked face. “Tell me you love me, Bucky.”

His piercing blue gaze was honest and sincere as he looked down at you. “I love you, Pocket. I have only, ever, loved you.” No questions, no ridiculing your request for reassurance– just pure understanding that this was what you needed from him

You felt yourself exhale, the tension that had been wracking through you ebbing away as you looked into his eyes. “I love you, Buck,” you whispered back. “I’m sorry– I thought… I thought I was better.”

His face was soft as he looked at you. “Doll, you are getting better. It’s a process. We’re a process. And we work on us, together.”

You snorted in spite of yourself as you wiped your nose. “How the fuck did you get so goddamn wise?” you asked him. “It’s mildly annoying.”

“Ah, there’s that dirty mouth I love so much,” he smirked at you. “Come on.” With a gracefulness that belied his massive size, he lifted you up and carried you back into the bedroom, gently placing you on your new bed.

“Oh, shit!” you said, trying to stand up. “Everyone’s still downstairs–”

“I kicked them out as soon as you left the living room,” he told you, coming to kneel before you as he pulled you back down. “Serves them right for interrupting our first night living together when we haven’t touched each other in eight thousand, seven hundred and forty three hours.”

You widened your eyes. “Not that your counting, or anything,” you said with a giggle, and were rewarded when Bucky smirked up at you.

“There’s my girl,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I know we had big plans for tonight,” he said as he rested his vibranium hand on your knee. “And trust me when I tell you, there is nothing I want more than to strip you naked and take you apart on every single surface of this apartment until you can’t remember your own name.” You gulped at that. “But,” he continued, “all that can wait. Tonight, I’m gonna go back into that bathroom, light some candles, and run us a bubble bath. Then, you and I are going to get in that tub and I’m just gonna hold you, okay?” You found yourself nodding dumbly at the sensual promise.

Bucky leaned in close to you, tucking a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear. “Tonight,” he reiterated, “I just want us to be close. And then tomorrow?” He leaned in to whisper seductively into your ear. “First thing tomorrow, I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Part 2 ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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codgod · 1 year

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y’know generally i try to limit colour palettes to as few colours as possible to make things more cohesive but despite my best efforts only jay ended up being able to stick to that </3

ANYWAYS here’s the as-of-right-now fully updated designs for these dickheads. these will no doubt undergo even more tweaking as i draw them more but this is a start i guess. also pls open the pictures to look at them properly i worked so hard LOL

some random notes under the cut yaaaay

chip —

he jingles when he walks. somehow he’s still stealthy. i do not know how

kept the platinum ring that bonded him to gillion in the block! because hey he doesn’t really have a reason to take it off (and it’s a nice reminder of how much gill cares about him, and how far their friendship has come since that ice arena)

his tattoos shift and flicker like actual flames, and sometimes (harmless, purely aesthetic) sparks fly off them when he’s excited

i just think smoke coming out of his mouth when he’s angry would be cool :]

chipped teeth from biting rocks and coins all the time :/

he has scars from the red lightning, they’re just mostly contained to his back and shoulders. they’re a similar red to his coat even once they’ve healed

gillion —

the tail sleeve thing is so he can rest it on the ground without damaging his scales, he doesn’t usually wear it when he’s just on the ship because the wood is soft enough that it’s usually fine + it can hinder swimming a bit. it’s mostly meant for places where there’s cobblestone or gravel streets and such. i think his armour would probably have a version that looks similar but covers the whole tail minus the fins, maybe with some armour plating of its own. i didn’t draw it because there wasn’t any room lol

his scars from the lightning are pink mostly because red stood out too much tbh. they softly glow in the dark the same as his coral and the pink parts of his fins

also kept his ring! his hands aren’t really made for jewellery, though, because the webbing means it won’t sit very secure on his finger. so he keeps it on the same chain as the necklace he got from aslana to keep it safe

tried to make him look a bit bulkier and more his age than in my original design? i feel like i was leaning too much into the naivety and. shortness. originally lol. he also has thicker eyebrows now and i’m still trying to decide how i feel about them but i think? i like it? i don’t tend to give many character thin eyebrows so it could’ve been a unique thing for him but alas

i think i made the sword too small but like ignore that

also forgor to include pretzel </3 that’s okay though she can get her own design sheet later. she’s special like that

jay —

i believe in tall jay supremacy

blue magic! i was considering gold but that’d look a bit more like a canary than i wanted for her wings so. blue jay :]

her hair is supposed to look kinda like fire to mimic her dad ! kinda showing that even if she runs from her family and the navy they’ll always be a part of her. and also i just like drawing messy hair

i gave her sturdier gloves just because i feel like it fits her better. also changed up the shirt to more of a button up solely because i don’t like tank tops very much LOL

i did WANT to make her outfit a bit flashier to match the boys better but i couldn’t quite figure out where to Put the flash. maybe that’ll come later, the way the story’s going i might get to design some cool prosthetics for her or something

overall —

because there’s just so many fucking colours i triiied to add at least one or two colours from each of them into the others designs. jay has her necklace with each of their main colours on it, her wings are the same blue as gillions eyes, her jacket and right eye are the same dark blue as destiny’s blade, her hair is the same orange as the lighter part of chips tattoos. chip has a dark green sash under all the belts, the same as the hilt of destiny’s blade. they all use the same shades of black, gold, and brown

the only real exception is gillion doesn’t have anything from the other two because he has Such a specific colour palette and he already had so much going on as-is orz jay was obviously the easiest to do this with because she has both warm and cool colours in her palette by default lol (and i did her design last, so that helps)

#.png #jrwi #jrwi riptide #just roll with it #jrwi chip #gillion tidestrider #jay ferin #jrwi spoilers #THEYRE FINALLY DONE zoo wee mama #the lines are thicker on the little armour drawings because i did the sketch thing and then went yk what. good enough. and just coloured tha #also got rid of gills button nose it was too annoying to draw #i’m so used to straight and aquiline noses #another thing that could’ve been unique for him in terms of my character designs #but nah #pls ignore that i drew them all standing on diff planes/angles btw i wasn’t trying very hard w that #weirdly proud of myself for managing to give them all pretty unique profiles #that’s normally something i kinda get stuck on. drawing people from the side #in different ways besides nose shape

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1d1195 · 1 year

Text

Sun-Kissed II

Alrighty, the first part of Sun-Kissed is here. This is the second and final part. Just over 8.1k words. It picks up right where the last part let off. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: More 18+ things happening here. Public sex (kinda), oral sex. If you’re not into this, I wouldn’t read it. There's some minor angst but it's really mostly fluff still.

Once more reminding everyone I know how impractical love at first sight is now that I'm a full grown adult, however I fully believe in love at first sight for Harry Styles.

“This is not the kind of beach vacation you had in mind, I’m sure.”

“Kitten, it’s so much better, because of you,” he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I’ll stay all night,” he promised her.

The research on love at first sight was no longer a worry. She had all the proof she needed right here.

It was so surreal having dinner with Harry’s mom and sister. They were a delight. She could see where Harry got his charm, his lovely looks, and just his wonderful personality. He was touchy, but not inappropriate. She insisted she help with dinner, and he pressed a hand to the middle of her back while she worked on getting the plates from her cabinet for the table. Immediately, she could feel her brain returning to normal functionality. While they spent a good hour on the beach kissing and holding one another watching the sunrise, the thought of leaving him for any extensive amount of time after she just fucked herself on his leg made her extremely disoriented.

Harry pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as he hovered beside her while she helped him cook the fish on the grill. “Y’look so pretty,” he said. She did change despite all three of them saying it wasn’t necessary, just a black tank top tucked into a pair of jean shorts to make her feel a little more presentable. It was by far the most boring look on the planet, but she liked the fact that Harry thought she was pretty. She tried not to blush too much, and she really didn’t want to overwhelm his family with their PDA. Even though she really wanted to wrap herself around him like a koala to a tree.

When they sat down to eat, Harry sat beside her, resting his hand on her knee, drawing small little circles along her skin. Anne complimented both her cottage and Harry’s. She thanked her no less than thirty times for letting them intrude for dinner. She already, insanely, adored Anne. She reminded her so much of her own mom who she missed a lot during the summer months, when no one wanted to set foot around this town. “Are you going to watch the sunset later?” She asked.

“That was the plan. And then ice cream of course,” Harry smirked.

“Oh, please come with us!” Gemma cheered. She loved Gemma too. It was effortless. Everything about Harry entering her life seemed so effortless. Gemma was so funny and lovely. She thought Harry must have had the best childhood with a sister like her in his life.

“I really don’t want to intrude,” she said kindly.

Both women rolled their eyes. “Like Harry made us intrude on you for dinner? Please,” Anne scoffed. “We want you to.”

She glanced at Harry who simply smiled at her, delight dancing in his green eyes waiting for her answer. “You’ll all need sweatshirts,” she told them.

Gemma and his mum walked out a bit on the tidal flats to get some more pictures at different angles. She and Harry stayed put in the lifeguard stand once more. “Thank you for dinner,” he murmured in her hair. This time he made no fuss about getting as close to her as possible. He felt better having as much physical contact with her as allowable. Harry was situated on the actual seat of the stand while she sat on the floor of it, between his legs. He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head and speak to her.

“Thank you. I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Nothing t’be sorry ‘bout.”

He played with her hair letting his fingers get caught in the waves and gently tugged through them to avoid it knotting and hurting later when she needed to brush it. He spotted his sister taking a picture of the pair of them, but he didn’t bring it to her attention. Instead, he focused on her hair, mindlessly braiding it. “Are you braiding my hair?” She giggled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You are...” she sighed and tilted her head back a bit. “I’m very glad I met you.”

Harry wanted to sleep in the same bed as her. He didn’t even care if anything sexual happened. He just wanted to be as close as humanly possible to her. Unfortunately, his mother and sister were totally killing the vibe tonight for that to happen. “They leave in the evening, the day after tomorrow,” he murmured. “Then I want t’kiss y’on every surface of Sea View. And watch another sunrise with you.” She shuddered, nodded mutely. His voice was utterly dreamy. She immediately clenched her thighs together for some relief. He inhaled sharply. “If y’clench those pretty thighs together in front of me again, love, m’gonna have t’fuck you before they leave, and I don’t know how we’ll manage t’hide that.”

It took every bit of self-control in her not to do it again. He was a little bossy. It made her ache of course between her legs and she honestly thought of doing it just to spite him. Just so he could figure out how he could fuck her without letting his family know. Make him sweat because it seemed entirely unfair that she would have to use her own fingers before falling asleep tonight instead of his thigh...or his dick.

“Did I go too far?” He asked quietly. He sounded concerned, but not quite remorseful. She was pretty sure he knew why she was silent, and he was just trying to make her a little crazier. He slid his hand down her arm, grabbing the elastic from her wrist because not once did he stop his fingers from braiding her hair. Saying salacious things but continuing the sweet gesture. The dichotomy of his personality was overwhelming.

“I’m getting an ice cream cone just so you have to watch me lick it,” she whispered.

He groaned and dropped his face to her neck, tugged her around the waist so she was in his lap. She could feel the bulge of his dick pressed against the back of her thighs. “Can’t believe I invited them.” She smiled and dropped to the side of his lap, draping her legs across his lap so his erection was covered but she wouldn’t tease him—even though she wanted to. “Didn’t know I was going t’meet the goddess of the sun on m’vacation,” he mumbled. “Never would have invited them.”

She laughed and shook her head at him. “You’re something else, Harry.”

He spent the entire day away from her and it felt like agony, especially since the only relief he got between his legs was his hand in that outdoor shower where he imagined her licking him the same way she licked her ice cream cone the night before. At least his brain was functioning better.

I refilled your grill, so it’s all set if you need it. :) She messaged him around lunch time.

Come to the beach. He answered in response.

Enjoy your family, Harry. She sent a kissing emoji.

I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.

Harry.

Please, love. Want you so bad.

Shhh...

“Are you texting her?” Gemma asked. Anne was down by the water, collecting shells and Gemma was reading her book, glancing up at Harry from the rim of her sunhat. She already knew the answer was yes because Harry couldn’t hide the absolute delight on his face.

There was no use trying to lie. He could feel his face smiling like a moron at the screen of his phone. She gave them her umbrella for the day and all the sunscreen she had. The unending kindness she had was admirable and he was so grateful to have met her. “Gemma, I think m’going t’fall in love with her.”

“I think you already are, you dummy,” she rolled her eyes. That was accurate. He probably was. “Just...be careful. I feel like neither of you are thinking about how you leave in a week, and you live in different parts of the state,” she reminded him. “I adore her. That’s not the problem. I just don’t want distance to hurt you...either of you.”

Harry hadn’t really thought of it like that. He’d been too focused on this bubble of salt air and love at first sight. He had been teaching at the same school for the last two years after being at two different schools prior. He loved where he was in his career, but if it meant he could be with her? He would apply to any school necessary. He’d have to wait and see where the week went, he supposed. He was sure they could do long-distance. They had all the same breaks and things to map out time for one another.

They’d always have the summer, too—he knew where she’d be.

“Do you want t’go in the water?” Gemma asked. “Mum looks like she has all the shells on the beach in her arms.”

Harry chuckled. “What’s she even collecting them for?” He asked, grabbing Gemma’s hand to help her up from her chair.

“She’s got some wreath vision in her head,” she shrugged as they headed toward the ocean. “Think she saw it in Better Homes and Gardens last month.” He nodded and scooped up his sister the second she was off guard, just as their toes hit the water, and he hurried out further to toss her into the waves. She spluttered as she came to the surface, and he was laughing. She splashed him and gave him a big wet hug. “I don’t know what that girl sees in you.”

Given that she was literally at the beach at the same time, Harry (and his family) insisted she sit with them on their last day of their visit. They chatted the whole day about almost everything and anything. She could see where Harry got his easy-going vibe. It was as easy to talk to them as it was with Harry. He rubbed lotion on her back, so she didn’t burn, and continued to find ways to touch her without being over the top. He brushed sand from her temple after she laid on the blanket beside him, so it wouldn’t get in her eye. Whenever they were near each other, he constantly pressed a hand to her hip in an effort not to be in her way as they reached for things out of the cooler.

Harry felt so much less tense than he had the day before. She spent their time apart running errands and letting Harry have a fun-filled day with his family. Being in her presence made him so instantly happy. It was impossible to believe he could fall so hard and so quickly. He truly wondered what was in the salt air that made his heart overtake all brain function.

Gemma shared at least three different fish recipes and vegetarian meals with her. “It’s hard to cook for us, I know,” she smiled.

“It’s not bad, I just run out of ideas. I am just very boring, and only like plain boring fish. Or salmon. That’s it.”

“That’s plenty, honestly. Don’t feel bad. I miss chicken teriyaki every day,” Gemma nodded.

Anne smiled at Harry from across their space while the two girls huddled over the jewelry, she got from a specialty shop in town. “Let me make a call and see if I can get us in. They’re very particular, but I know the owner,” she smiled. “We’ll have to leave early though; I don’t want to cut your beach day short.”

“No, that’s okay. Harry was going to take me to the shop you told him about with the sweatshirts?” Anne said.

“Oh, not fair! I want to go!” Gemma pouted.

“We could probably do both, but you may just wait a long time at the shop,” she explained. “There’s always so many people.”

Anne and Gemma shrugged. “You go to a tourist location, you’re going to deal with tourists,” she smiled.

Harry just watched all three women strategize showering and getting ready to go run their errands. She made her phone call and proudly stated they could go, just a half hour before they closed at four. It was like a military operation and Harry was overcome with how much he liked having his mom and sister get along with his beach goddess. “I just have to make him muffins before we go,” she rolled her eyes.

“You bake too?” Anne wondered.

“Oh yes. A real hobby of mine. Muffins are my specialty. I put cranberries in them with chocolate chips and an extra teaspoon of vanilla extract. Everyone goes crazy about them, but otherwise I just follow a basic muffin recipe.”

“You’ll have to save us some. Harry used to work at a bakery before he went into teaching,” Anne explained. “We’re huge fans of baked goods.”

“I’ll save you some,” she giggled, and Harry thought there wasn’t a vacation that would ever top this one.

The man at the jewelry store clearly wanted her as much as Harry wanted her. He couldn’t blame him though because she decided to torture him in a sundress. It was a pale pink with orangey red seashells patterned on the fabric. Sunglasses atop her head, he once more thought she looked like a princess, truly thought she would live in a sandcastle if she could. It was flowy, draped to the floor and Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the skirt and live there. She paid no mind, however, to the way the man looked at her. Nor did she seem to see the internal fight Harry was having of keeping it PG as the other person working helped Gemma and Anne while she looked at other beachy jewelry. “Oh, those are so pretty,” she cooed pointing to rustic looking earrings. A little chain dangled into two pearls with a seashell fitted at the end of the little chain. Harry pressed his hand to her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Do y’want them?” He murmured into her hair, his lips touching the back of her head. He hoped that her friend saw how close he was to her while he munched on the muffins.

Maybe Gemma was right. How was he supposed to be separated by practically a whole state from her when he couldn’t even fathom another man talking to her? She rolled her eyes, but she leaned back into his embrace. He wrapped an arm around the front of her hips, kissing the side of her head as she spoke. “No, Harry. You met me less than a week ago, I don’t want you buying me a $150 pair of earrings,” she rolled her eyes. Harry wanted to get them for her. He would probably steal them for her if she asked him to. He didn’t see what knowing her for less than a week had to do with it.

“Excuse me, can I get these?” Harry asked.

“Harry,” she whispered trying to turn out of his embrace. She caught the way Gemma and Anne exchanged a look and smiled to themselves as they were fitted with their own array of beach jewelry. Harry slid his card through effortlessly as soon as the man took them out of the case. He had a bit of chocolate on the corner of his mouth, but Harry couldn’t blame him. She shared a few with him and his family and she could see why people went nuts about them. He did notice the way he eyed the closeness of Harry’s arm draped around her waist. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Assurance you’ll let me come back next summer,” he winked.

“It should be a thank you for bothering her all week,” Gemma said as they headed back out to the car with their purchases. Harry drove and she sat in the back with Gemma so Anne could sit up front. Harry grabbed his mom’s hand unceremoniously and she thought it was the most adorable thing in the entire world while she directed him to the overcrowded shop.

“He wasn’t a bother,” she giggled sitting forward to squeeze his shoulder while he drove. He felt like there was electricity zipping through him, he worried he wouldn’t make it to the store in one piece if she did it again.

The overcrowded shop was actually very fun for people watching. Harry found his arm around her waist the entire time and insisted on getting matching sweatshirts in different colors. She rolled her eyes once more at how crazy this all was falling so quickly for a man she just met. She would have to research love at first sight and see if there was some evidence that it was normal to feel and behave this way.

Content again with their purchases, they returned to the car. “Dinner?” Anne asked. “We’d like to treat you for invading your home the first night,” she said sweetly.

“Seriously, it was the least—”

“Love, jus’ let us buy y’dinner,” Harry hummed. “Jus’ tell me where t’go,” he glanced at her in the rearview mirror and winked at her.

So, what was she supposed to do but enjoy dinner with Harry and his family again?

Anne gave her a huge hug, thanked her no less than thirty more times, and then hugged Harry and told him to be polite and give her space if she wanted it. There was nothing she wanted less. In fact, if she could have glued herself to Harry she probably would.

But she also thanked her for dinner and for being so kind to her that first night even though she looked crazy in her post-nap haze. Anne thought nothing of it and Harry wondered if he would ever get over the euphoria he felt, knowing his mum liked the girl he was already smitten with.

Gemma also hugged her and thanked her profusely. Told her she hoped to see her again and let her know if she needed recipes for Harry while he was there. The pair waved as Harry’s family left Sea View. They walked back to Sun-Kissed Cabana hand in hand. Fingers twisted together. She still needed to do the dishes from the muffins she made earlier. “Do you want to watch the sunset or go to—”

The second they were inside her little place; Harry dropped to his knees and lifted her skirt over his head. He didn’t even shut the front door. “Harry,” she gasped as his lips started the ascent up her leg, starting at her knee, trailing over her thigh, moving inward toward her underwear. Harry sighed, pressing a chaste kiss to the outside of her underwear. She put a hand on the wall as he lifted one of her legs to go over his shoulder and she wished her brain was working at full capacity. She would have requested the door close so no one walking or driving by could see right in the entry way and see her gasping at the man between her thighs. Anyone that even glanced would immediately know what was happening. She would ruin countless family vacations if anyone looked. People would glare at the indecency, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The only reprieve from her worry was that the sun was setting, and they hadn’t turned on a light.

“Can I make y’feel good, love? Please?” He begged. “Been dreaming ‘bout y’on m’tongue, kitten,” his voice was nearly muffled by the fabric of her dress paired with the fact his voice was so low and deep.

How could she say no to him begging her? God, she wanted his tongue on her. “Yes, yes, please,” she whimpered closing her eyes as his finger hooked around her panties and pushed them to the side. He didn’t wait one second before his mouth was on her.

His lips wrapped around her clit, and he sucked hard making her cry out. She was certain she was dripping. Embarrassingly wet. If his mouth wasn’t there, she probably would have dripped on the floor. Harry groaned loudly against her sending vibrations through her. Her vibrator would never compare ever again. She whimpered, grabbing his head atop the fabric of her dress pressing him toward her. He pulled back pressing kisses to the inside of her thigh over his shoulder as he paused for a breath. “M’gonna live here,” he promised making her feel shaky on the one leg that remained on the floor.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged.

“No, no way, kitten,” he murmured kissing a trail back to where he wanted to be; almost as much as she wanted him there. “Gonna make y’feel s’good. Promise. Gonna make y’come all over m’tongue again and again,” his words were so sweetly said despite the filth coming from them. However, given that his lips and tongue were doing sinful things to the apex of her thighs, she shouldn’t have been so surprised that he could turn her to mush physically and mentally with his mouth.

He continued, lapping between the folds. He held her in place, pressing his hands into her fleshy backside. She moaned, wishing she was pressed against the wall so she could drop her head back. She was worried she would collapse and break his neck. Especially when he did make her come. “S’fucking good,” he groaned into her kissing her puffy clit. “God, you’re s’wet. S’that for me?” He wondered sliding his hand over her backside toward her hip, down her groin where his finger slid through her folds gathering the sticky moisture that accumulated from herself and from his mouth. “Did I get y’this wet?”

Oh, he was enjoying this way too much. She nodded breathlessly, unable to speak if she wanted to. He couldn’t even see her nodding. She was overheating. She wanted his mouth back on her. It was unfair he was torturing her with words and physical movements of his mouth. “Y-yes,” she managed. “Harry, please,” she croaked out afterwards.

He groaned at the way she sounded. Like heaven. Begging. He was rock hard, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to taste her. Wanted to have her come all over him so he could clean her up and do it again as fast as possible.

After massaging her clit between his thumb and forefinger and letting his middle finger slide through her folds he finally dipped it into her hole. She cried out at the invasion and ground into his hand. “S’that good, baby? S’that make y’feel better?” He asked. That mocking tone from the morning she got herself off on his thigh was back she wished she could bite back a retort, but his lips weren’t allowing any coherent thoughts through. “S’that make the ache go away?” She nodded again, not that he could see but she thought he probably knew it was true. It did make the ache go away except she wanted to come so badly. “Such a good girl,” he moaned licking her like he was the one that invented doing this. “Y’gonna come on m’tongue?” He asked.

“Please,” she thought she was going to cry if she didn’t get a release soon. His finger felt so good, wiggling around her walls looking for the spot that would drive her wild while his lips attached back to her clit. “Please, Harry, please,” she moaned, and Harry thought she might be crying but he couldn’t see with her dress covering his head. It was warm below the fabric, his hot breath, and her carnal need to come making all senses done for. He swore the only thing he knew to do was make her come hard. He picked up the pace of his finger dipping in and out of her soaking wet hole. She was starting to clench just barely while he kept flicking his tongue over her clit that he kept in place while sucking it between his lips. “Right there,” she cried. “Please, please, please,” she begged as the flutter of her walls began to work around his finger.

He brought his arm around her, pressing her close to him so he could continue licking and fingering her until finally she moaned and shook. “Yes, fuck,” she whimpered, and her perfect pussy clenched rapidly around his finger while he continued his licking of her clit so she could ride out her second orgasm due to Harry against his lips and hand. As the waves finished wracking through her she was breathing heavily as Harry lapped up all the wetness making insanely lewd slurping noises as he did—like he wanted every drop of her. When he finished placing the most ironically chaste kiss on her oversensitive clit, she sighed. The leg on his shoulder slumped to the floor. He pulled her panties down to her ankles, kissing down her leg as he did. Helped her step out of them.

“You’ll need new ones,” he stated as a matter of fact. Not a need to brag although he very well could have. As he flipped the curtain of her skirt back over his head to free him, standing in the same moment.

His hair was a little staticky from the fabric brushing his hair. He smiled at her, impishly it seemed. Her breath was uneven, and she tried to remember how to speak but couldn’t find the words to say. “Are y’alright? Was that okay, love?”

She nodded, her eyes fluttering as if she were about to pass out. She was speechless. It made him feel good that he could get that kind of reaction out of her, but he was worried he accidentally broke her. Her eyes looked glassy like she wasn’t fully coherent yet.

He smiled, sweeping her into his arms like she was a bride and carried her to the sofa. It was so quick, and he made it seem so effortless she didn’t have time to think about how heavy she must have been for him to do that.

He left her safely and softly on the couch, kissing her forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. The ache between her thighs was satiated and she could feel her brain cells reconnecting and hoped she’d be able to form a sentence at any moment.

“Harry?” She asked tentatively. Her voice was cracking. Blinking unsurely, at the lack of Harry beside her.

“M’right here, angel. Jus’ getting us some water,” he promised sweetly and hurried to sit beside her. The worry in her voice with just his name made his heart hurt. He handed her the cup so she could get rehydrated. Harry thought she was the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, but he sensed her uneasiness. He knew she felt it the other day too after their sunrise fun—except he spent most of the day not seeing her. He would make up for it now. Scooping her into his lap, scrunching the fabric of her skirt up over her hips so she could straddle his lap, he didn’t focus on the fact there was nothing between her body and his shorts. Her head dropped to the crook of his neck, and he soothingly rubbed her back while he took his own sip of water over the top of her shoulder. “Y’okay, love?” He asked tentatively again now that she had time to process the event in her mind, had some water, and that Harry was holding her carefully.

“Mmm,” she hummed softly. Her breath tickling his neck. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and kissed her hair. “I’d say the pleasure was all mine, but I think y’got the brunt of it.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make you feel that good,” she mumbled sadly. Almost as if she was hurt by the idea.

He smirked. “Won’t be difficult, kitten. Thought I was gonna come jus’ from touching you,” he promised. She didn’t pay attention to that bit of info. She was too busy feeling bad about how needy she was right now.

“M’sorry m’needy,” she whispered—it always happened when she orgasmed like that at the hand of another guy. There were only a select few that managed to do it, but only one that left her high and dry after. It made her feel terrible and it had been a long while since she let it happen like that. Worried that she would feel dirty and gross again. She couldn’t really help herself with Harry though and she worried that she would bother him being so needy. “This is not the kind of beach vacation you had in mind, I’m sure.”

“Kitten, it’s so much better, because of you,” he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I’ll stay all night,” he promised her.

The research on love at first sight was no longer a worry. She had all the proof she needed right here.

Harry doesn’t know how many times he orgasmed. True to his word, he kissed her and kindly fucked her on every possible surface in Sea View. Except the outdoor shower. But that was only because it was raining. She giggled as Harry closed his eyes, smirking at her little laugh. “Something funny, kitten?” He asked reaching out across the bed—where they ended their escapades for the day.

She shook her head. “Never thought I’d be part of the group that’s been fucked at Sea View.”

He rolled over top of her, the sheets keeping a barrier between them. “S’been the best vacation of m’life,” he promised. “Gonna leave a six-star review,” he promised.

She laughed loudly, making his heart thrum with adoration at how carefree it sounded. “I don’t do this for everyone that stays here, don’t make reviews I can’t cash in on.”

“Love, if I could afford it, I would rent this place the whole summer.”

She smiled so beautifully. Harry thought she really was an angel like her friend said. A sun-kissed one for sure. “You’ll stay the night, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll watch TV and order food, whatever you want,” he promised.

“I’d like that. But I’ll need to go get a change of clothes.”

“You won’t need them,” he shrugged.

She giggled again.

They spent the next few days in the normal routine they developed the week before. They went to the beach, they checked an item off Harry’s vacation bucket list, they ate dinner together, watched the sunset, got ice cream, and moaned into each other’s mouths as much as possible.

They also touched a lot more. Harry held her hand while they waited in line behind the group of people ahead of them at the mini golf course. His arms looped around her back while they waded in the water, holding her close to him. He kept a hold of her foot in his lap while they read their books in the evening before sunset.

When they slept at night, in the comfy bed at Sea View, he wrapped her close to his chest and curled around her, his arms caging around her. “What if I have to pee?” She giggled the first night.

“Then I guess you’ll have t’pee on me,” he shrugged through her laughter.

It was unspoken that they didn’t talk about his vacation ending very soon. The only time she left him alone was when she showered at Sun-Kissed Cabana. He cutely told her he missed her the moment she returned to his home away from home. “So full moon tonight?” He asked looking down at her face. Today they read with her head in his lap, her face turned toward his stomach at the moment rubbing her nose against his warm t-shirt. He combed his fingers through her hair focusing on his book.

She nodded, wrangling her phone from her pocket to in front of her face so she could look at the weather app on her phone. “Nine thirty,” she glanced at the weather, there should be no clouds or rain to ruin the evening.

“It’ll be cold, yeah?” He asked. She checked the temperature and nodded again in affirmation.

“Probably wear what we wore for the sunrise.”

“Oh, I love that outfit,” he said flirtatiously. She rolled her eyes and turned to lay flat back against her lap and stare up at him. He smiled while he finished the page he was reading. “What?” He hummed.

“You’re obsessed with sex.”

“Me?!” He cried throwing his book on the coffee table. “You’re the one moaning and pressing your bum up against me all night,” he reminded her and brought his face down to hers so he could kiss her repeatedly. She giggled as he pulled her upper body with him as he leaned back against the sofa. He pulled her close to him. He was obsessed with sex. But only with her it seemed. It was a billion to one chance he would me this angel this vacation. Another billion to one chance he would find her stunning and adore her immediately. Of course, it was only another billion to one chance he would want to make her come so many times her legs would shake just walking three houses down when she needed something from her little cottage.

Ugh, he wanted to stay here forever.

“Love,” he said gently. She was busy tracing his eyebrows and running her fingertip over his eyelids while he was lost in thought about how obsessed with sex he was. “I leave in a few days,” he reminded her. She frowned almost instantly and nodded. Looked away from him, ducked her face so her lips pressed to his shoulder. He pressed a hand to the back of her head, rubbing his fingertips gently into the back of her skull.

“I know,” she mumbled against his skin.

They were quiet for a few moments. Harry was trying to figure out what to say. It certainly couldn’t be that he was in love with her. He would sound like an idiot. She was intelligent and beautiful. Just because he wanted to live between her legs didn’t mean he could go around saying he loved her after a week and a half. “I want t’be very clear, kitten. I really don’t want t’leave,” he kissed the side of her head. “S’been a very special vacation,” he promised. “S’because of you, y’know. I don’t want t’leave because you’re here,” he combed through her hair with his fingers and kissed the crown of her head once more.

She didn’t answer but Harry could feel a teardrop fall onto his shirt. He didn’t move from this position. Didn’t want to call attention to her sadness and make it worse. They would have these moments and they could figure out the rest when the time came.

They walked hand in hand, the pathway lit by the flashlights on their phones. They wore their sweatpants and long sleeve shirts and were barefoot as they walked the same beach path, they always walked to the lifeguard stand. Before they even got there, Harry was speechless. “Oh wow,” the moon was just over top the horizon and since he had only seen the sunrise once this vacation, he only had one way to compare to it. If it wasn’t for the dark sky, he’d have no clue it wasn’t the sun. It was breathtaking.

She smiled and turned her flashlight off to take a picture. Harry did the same, wrapping his arm around her as she did so he wouldn’t lose her for even a second in the dark. “Is anyone else here y’think?” He asked.

She shook her head, bumping against him. “Probably not; mostly kids around here with their families. They can’t stay up this late,” she giggled. She yawned. “Honestly, me neither. I was up so late last night,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “‘Harry, please, please, please let me come. Oh, it’s so good,’” he mocked. She jabbed her elbow into his stomach not hard enough to hurt but he kissed the side of her face. She ignored him, turned her flashlight back on, and pulled him toward the lifeguard stand. They sat in silence, watching the moon slowly rise into the sky. It looked enormous. Beautiful. He said it when he first got here, but he truly believed she was right that this was the most magnificent place on earth.

She was taking pictures and playing with the exposure and lighting in the settings as she tried to capture how beautiful it was. The moon was now almost at the point where it was illuminating the beach. If he listened carefully, he could hear the sound of vacationers calling attention to their partners to look at the sky from their porches and cabins and cottages.

Harry snapped a picture of her focused expression managing to get her profile superimposed on the moon in the background. She blushed, not that Harry could see it in the dark like this but still. She wanted to talk more about what all this meant. What they should or would do when he left. It was so hard, the second it crossed her mind, tears filled her vision and she had to swallow the rock lodged in her esophagus. How was she supposed to have an adult conversation with Harry about it when she couldn’t even get the words out?

Hearing him say how much this all meant to him was a good start. It made her anxiety lessen. Because this meant the world to her; it was rash, quick, and ridiculous to fall in love so easily. She felt like a Disney princess falling for the first guy she saw. While she wasn’t sure if Harry was in love with her—which would be a completely normal thing—she could rest assured that he at least cared about her in some capacity. “Y’okay, kitten?” He hummed into her ear, pressing his lips to her temple while she thought. “Can hear the gears turning from here,” he smiled against her skin.

She shook her head. “It’s crazy to me how fast the moon rises,” she said. Harry nodded in agreement.

“Let’s head back, s’getting cold and I want t’get y’out of these clothes,” he murmured into her neck.

Harry dropped from the stand first, climbing down so he could make sure she made it down without injury. Once on the sand, they paused, leaning against the frame to gaze at the moon more.

She was pretty certain it was her doing, but she would never admit that to Harry. But soon her hand was in his sweatpants, holding his dick in her hand massaging the length of it, pulling and tugging it to get harder and longer. “Kitten,” he groaned quietly.

It was extremely ridiculous for her to do something like this on a public beach. Even if it was late at night. The moment he groaned out her pet-name she felt her thighs press together. She swore she was soaked already, and they’d hardly even begun. “Something about sweatpants with you,” she mumbled as she pulled down her own to just to mid-thigh. Harry followed suit. “S’gonna have to be quick,” she whispered standing in front of him, reaching behind so his body would curve around her.

“Oh kitten, m’already ready t’burst jus’ at the thought of your pussy around me,” he promised and slipped himself inside her from behind. She moaned quietly as he began pumping into her, in and out. She loved the darkness, only the moon casting a low glow over them while it still rose higher in the sky. It provided a good cover in case anyone did happen to walk their way down here. She turned to the side, gripping the wood of the lifeguard stand as she bent forward more. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore disguised the sound of Harry’s skin smacking against hers.

“So good,” she whimpered. “Harry,” she cried. He gripped her hips pulling her back toward him as he pushed forward. It was a miracle she could have this many orgasms in only a matter of days. She had never tried before to have this many but was once more worried that she wouldn’t last one day without him, let alone a whole year before she would see him next summer. “Harry,” she whined again and grabbed his hand holding onto her hip.

“Yeah, love? Y’close already? Y’all excited and wet for me because we’re on the beach? Gotta be quiet for me, baby. When y’come. Don’t want anyone t’hear. All those noises y’make are for me, yeah?”

She was going to scream at the top of her lungs, and she didn’t care who heard her. “Your pussy is s’good. So wet. Feel y'gripping me,” he mumbled and grabbed he cheek of her bum with one of his hands. He pressed hard, certain he would leave little finger print bruises and he wished he could be gentler but this was so fucking hot he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Harry,” she whined again. “Please,” she begged.

“Y’can come, angel. Come as much as y’want. Come all over m’cock, please. Make yourself come all over me, love,” he moaned snapping almost brutally into her.

She whimpered as she did, her legs shaking almost to the point where she would have collapsed if Harry wasn’t holding her up. He continued to drive his dick up into her as he pulled her back toward him, so she was pressed to his torso. With a few more pumps he felt himself about to burst and alerted her. “Gonna come so hard, cause of you,” he groaned. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock just in time to catch all of him in her mouth. He shivered as her mouth worked over him and he pulled away and pulled her up as he did.

He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her tightly. “M’legs are tired.”

He nodded. “I know baby,” he cooed, pulling her pants up. He pulled his own up, catching a glimpse of the moon. “Do y’still have your phone?” She nodded mutely. Harry smiled, kissed her lips gently and then cradled her in his arms as he carried her back to the cottage.

They were two days and several hours away from Harry leaving. Her chest thought it was going to break open from the force of hiding her emotions. She was finishing getting fixed up after their walk and separate showers. Even though Harry did invite her. “We have to go to the store, you maniac,” she giggled as he tried to convince her with kisses down her throat.

“The store will be there in an hour.”

“S’never just an hour with you,” she muttered under her breath.

“Was that a complaint?”

“No, not even a little.”

No, they left the shower off their new kinky little bucket list for Harry’s vacation. Something to look forward to for next year. She was just finishing her hair when she heard the screen door. “Kitten?” He called.

“Bathroom!”

He stood in the doorway watching her put the final touches in her hair. He was grinning like an idiot. Like he had a secret. “Can we talk?” He asked.

She whipped around so fast to look at him and ask why he would ever say such a thing that she knocked her bottle of hair stuff onto the floor. She was lucky the lid to the toilet was closed where she had placed her towel from her shower, or she would be adding hair product to their grocery list since it merely bounced off the top of it. Harry’s mouth popped open, but she could see his eyes dancing in amusement.

“I should have picked a better phrase,” he nodded firmly.

She looked at him in shock. “Ya think?”

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “There’s...” he shook his head. “Jus’ c’mere,” he pulled her to her main room and flopped the pair of them onto the sofa. He brought his hands to her face, brought her to his lips and kissed her forehead, her nose, and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “M’going t’say a lot right now,” he told her. “Can y’be patient?” he asked. She nodded, nervously. Hopefully he would just treat it like ripping a Band-Aid off. “Y’have nothing t’be nervous about, love,” he promised kissing her forehead again.

“You’re making me anxious,” she said seriously. He chuckled.

“Okay, okay. I’ll start,” he smiled shaking his head. “I have immensely enjoyed this vacation. But even if I was trapped in the worst city in the worst home and you were there, I think I would have enjoyed it,” he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. It was starting off okay at least. “M’really heartbroken I have t’go,” he told her. “I didn’t even shower I was on the phone looking for another rental for every week this summer,” She smiled at that, feeling her eyes water. He swept his thumb below her eye seeing the tears appear. “But m’friend Mitch called me too. His wedding is in early October. I...I wasn’t given a plus one originally, but he said I could have one. I told him all about you. In fifteen minutes. Mitch and Sarah were insistent at that point,” he told her. “I know s’not much. But I’d be able t’see you. And...I know s’like three months away...but it’s something right? Would y’go with me?”

She would see him again. She nodded. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was.

“And...we could video chat. Every day. Hell, love, I’ll apply to a new school, I jus’ want t’have you in m’life in some permanent way. I’ll spend every school holiday with you. We’ll spend all summer here, every year. I know—” She started full on sniveling, and she covered her mouth as he spoke. “You think m’nuts,” he frowned.

She nodded. “I do, but only because I am too,” she promised tearily. “I want all of that,” she agreed. Harry sighed with relief, bringing his thumbs across her cheeks once more to rid them of tears and kissing her deeply. It wasn’t quite like the kisses that led to him pulling all her clothes off, but it had almost as much passion.

“I promise, I don’t usually fall in love this quickly,” he admitted. Her lips parted at the L-word in surprise and Harry slapped a hand against his face. “Fuck...I mean...” he sighed shaking his head. “I think s’obvious given that I jus’ invited you t’a wedding after knowing y’for a handful of days,” he shook his head quickly like he was trying to rewire some of his neurons in hope of making sense again. “Sorry,” he tucked his face into his neck terrified he just ruined everything by telling a girl he knew for only ten days he loved her.

She giggled through her tears. “I... forgot I’ve had an orgasm...let alone had sex...literally ever...when I was dry humping your leg at the beach. I don’t think...this is very different than any...I don’t do this sort of thing,” she nodded in agreement. “I like you a lot,” she whispered at least she had enough sense to not say love—even if Harry thought she kind of wanted to say it back—and she did want to say it. “An embarrassing amount. I’m dreading having to say goodbye. Dreading the end of your vacation and at any moment I’m worried I’m going to invite you to stay with me, nearly a stranger, for the rest of the summer just so I don’t have to let you go,” she then pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes. “Shit,” she muttered against them.

Harry chuckled, bit the inside of his lip glad she was speaking from her heart the same way Harry did. “Honestly, love? I would stay, if y’wanted me to.”

She flicked her eyes up to him. Adoring the green irises that were haunting every thought. “Yeah?” She whispered.

He nodded. “I...I think this might be the best vacation I’ve ever been on. Too bad y’don’t have an outdoor shower. S’where I’ve been imagining some really fun things ‘bout you.”

“Why imagine when you could have them? We still have two days.”

He moaned. “M’gonna fuck you with a Sea View,” he said pulling her to stand and all but racing back to his perfect little cottage home. Enjoying her giggles as he stripped her naked in the backyard along with him. Harry was eternally grateful to whatever powers that be he got this vacation spot with the beautiful goddess from Sun-Kissed Cabana all to himself.

And an outdoor shower.

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randomfoggytiger · 9 months

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Disproving CSM's Conjecture in En Ami

CSM postulates that Scully and Mulder aren't together because she doesn't fully trust him; that, although she's drawn to powerful men, she is afraid to open herself up to them.

"You'd die for Mulder, but you won't allow yourself to love him."

The problem is, he's wrong.

Because CSM mixed up her fatal flaw with Mulder's.

Self-Denial and Self-Sacrifice

CSM's theory: Scully rules herself by denial, and Mulder offers himself up as the sacrificial lamb. How is he wrong?

Scully's flaw is self-sacrifice, putting everything she covets from life on hold to join Mulder on his quest (comedically summed up in Bad Blood's "I do it all for you, Mulder! All for you!") The Starbuck-Ahab complex she harbored since childhood-- expressing her love through devotion-- kept her in the car the first year; but the Truth soon became as much about her losses as it did Mulder's tragedies. Unlike Mulder, however, Scully strives to have a life uncomplicated by mess and trauma and the constant grind. So, she sits in the car, year after year, waiting for her partner to adapt to their changing dynamic (which he did not do for almost six of those years.) Her own fears and insecurities are placed under the bootheel of the work; but when life becomes too complicated or emotionally clouded, Scully strikes out in confused rebellion (e.g. Never Again, Milagro, and All Things.) Moreover, Scully is the one who sacrificed what she held dear-- stability, a family, something other than 24/7 monsters and conspiracies-- to bear the cross of Mulder's quest, not the other way 'round. (Her realization-- that she does want this life-- and shift does not occur until All Things, a few episodes after En Ami.)

Mulder's fatal flaw is self-denial (and self-punishment): he set aside a normal life out of a determination to find or avenge his sister. If Mulder was self-sacrificial, he would have let Scully walk out of his life a thousand times over and born that heartbreak silently, alone; instead, he stormed out after her and broke down his walls to convince her to stay. Furthermore, his self-denial is ever present even in tender moments, drawing away from emotional vulnerability once danger is past and shying away even faster if Scully draws attention to the present moment. Mulder is the one to deny himself love and a life with Scully (Home, Detour, Dreamland I, Arcadia, etc.), not the one who sacrificed everything he wanted to stay on his quest-- this is what he wants. (The change from obsessive pursuit to measured search begins in The Unnatural, changes wholly in Amor Fati and Millennium, and reaches its conclusion in Closure.)

CSM's Observations

The reality that CSM observed both agents for years and years and came to the exact opposite conclusion is baffling.

He concluded that Mulder sacrificed normalcy for the Almighty Mission, projecting his own Messiah complex onto his 'protege' and patting himself on the back whenever Mulder was, yet again, tossed to the jaws of Death for the "greater good." He also concluded that Scully stayed in the basement because of the raw power she smelled on Mulder, keeping a cold yet lustful distance because she was afraid to risk her womanly love on the all-consuming passion of his might.

How very dime store novel of Old Smokey.

Both assumptions are, of course, very wrong.

Mulder Dreaded "More" While Scully Hoped for It

Scully gave many unsubtle hints through the series that she was ready for more with Mulder: her willingness to go down with him in Tooms, her overt jealousy in Syzygy, her pointed inquiry about his family genetics in Home, her displacement and hurt in The Field Where I Died and Never Again and The End and The Beginning and One Son, her "we just keep driving" in Dreamland I, her unspoken 'secret' that was practically ripped from her chest in Milagro, her flirting in The Unnatural, her IVF request, and on and on.

Scully is by nature reticent with her emotions, fearful to fully open up lest she be hurt or become a burden; but in Mulder's case, she's reiterated over and over (Irresistible and Elegy) that their relationship falls into the latter, not former, category. In Emily she is, once again, "alone"; however, the context to her statement is vitally important. In the hospital, she hoped for Mulder to claim a place by her and her daughter's side as co-parent; but when he uncomfortably withdrew instead, it proved that he still wasn't ready for "more." Scully was alone in places Mulder couldn't fill; and so, she said goodbye to that hope, alone; then to her daughter, alone; and bore the little girl's death, alone. The burden of her fully opened heart was too heavy, she assumed, for Mulder... and in a way, she was right-- not until Fight the Future, when forced to confront "them", did Mulder finally acknowledge it. Until then, sacrificially tucking her heart back inside her chest-- for both their sakes-- was what Scully deemed the best course of action. She sticks around for her own reasons, as she says in Memento Mori; but those don't exclude the hope that Mulder will someday "settle down, live something approaching a normal life." (Her plans change in All Things-- but she's not there, yet.)

All those years, it was Mulder who was more emotionally distant. He was content with his life, happy to spin tires down the tarmac forever with his partner. Mulder was willing to deny himself into eternity if it meant not having to sacrifice an aspect of the life or career he was comfortable with and nervous to change for 'more.' It's why he was so afraid in Fight the Future and so proud of himself in The Unnatural (the warmup), Amor Fati (the big swing), and Millennium (the victorious homerun.) Scully is the only one-in-five billion he has: in the past, he could tease about passing genetic muster, about his boyish agility, about so much more, but to act on it? It took him four years to initiate a hug (post here) and seven years to approach a label of sorts for their relationship. Mulder's an overly cautious man, more pessimistic than optimistic when it comes to people sticking around; and any traditional, long-term relationship he'd witnessed had broken down or was held together by deadened respect and a few bratty kids.

Now it's Season 7, he's learned his lessons, and they're here, together.

Or were, until Scully dipped on a sketchy roadtrip with their enemy.

Conclusion

The most unrealistic part of this episode (amid a host of several others) was that Scully, despite hearing the drivel CSM peddled the entire drive, decided that he had anything worthwhile to say.

Thank you for reading~.

Enjoy!

#txf #Disproving CSM's Conjecture in En Ami #analysis #xf meta #meta #CSM #En Ami #Scully #Mulder #xfiles #x-files #the x files #mine

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anarchiii · 21 days

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Worlds apart-13 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part Thirteen | warnings: angst, blood, violence, | Azriel x Celaena Sardothien

Summary; pain and sorrow one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he isn’t meant for this world, but maybe for another…

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Azriel’s POV

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Amren snapped, clearly having enough of his tensed body and impatience, everything, he almost wanted to say, everything was wrong, it had started an hour ago when he woke up to a nightmare where he watched as Celaena choked to death on her own blood right infront of a door, a human man simply watching her die, he stood there and could no nothing. It had felt so real. So real in fact that his love seemed to watch him as she lay there, tears falling from her beautiful eyes.

“She’s in danger,” he finally said, whispering more like it, what if she was dying right now, dead even? “Who?” He could barely think straight, she could be suffering right now and he wasn’t doing anything, “Celaena, I can feel it, I need to help her.” She looked up at him. Her eyes a blazing silver, she nodded once, eyes landing back on the book she was reading, after a few more minutes she said, startling him, “I’ve got it,” he immediately got up. A small spark of hope filling his chest but he ignored it.

“Let’s do it,” he said, before she could say anything, “right now, this very moment,” this was the first time he had seen the Firedrake look concerned but she didn’t disagree, besides, if it didn’t work, Rhysand and the inner circle would never know, they didn’t have much time if what he suspected was true, his family would understand, they had to.

She nodded again, running out of the Day Court library and down a long winding staircase, he didn’t ask where she was going, just followed, by the time they were reaching the bottom, he was out of breath, the exhaustion of running and barely sleeping for weeks could come later, love first.

“Grab Truth-teller and make a semi-deep cut along your forearm, don’t ask questions just do,” Amren snapped, dropping to the cold stone floor and flipping through the book violently, he indeed didn’t ask questions, just did, he made the cut, his blood flowing quickly. The ruby liquid like a river. Amren grabbed his harm harshly before dipping her child-sized fingers into the liquid and drawing marks on the ground, the same marks Celaena had drawn, though there was a difference between then and now, he was not afraid, he would not be afraid.

He forgot how terrifying it was, standing infront of the sickly green portal that would lead him—hopefully—to his darling, if he could even call her that, perhaps he would come all this way and show himself fully to her just for her to send him back home, when she didn’t realise that she was his love, was this all for nothing? Was he so pathetic that the first person that had shown him a love that wasn’t platonic made him think and act like this? No, this couldn’t all be for nothing.

He shook his head, trying to disperse those thoughts, Amren was eyeing him but said nothing, she had been incredibly patient, it was almost like she knew something he didn’t, there was no other reason for her to act in such a manner, she started tapping her foot on the floor impatiently, but still stayed silent, everything was so odd— right. He had to go now. If it was anything like last time then the portal would not be here much longer.

Breathing in deeply and exhaling, he went through it, picturing nothing but her lovely face, that pure smile that made her look goddess-like, the strawberry blush that covered her cheeks when he said something about her, the way she put her hands on her hips to prove a point not realising that she was like a beautiful siren to his sailor, the beautiful maiden seducing the unprepared guard, she was his temptress without even trying. Lovely.

He landed face-first on a marble checkered floor, the first thing he noticed was the haughty laughter and clinking of glasses all around him, he got up, groaning as the pain retested in his nose, he ignored it, everyone around him was in dresses and suits, except him. People around him were eyeing him and some blushing as they took in his body but relatively ignored him, Azriel bestowed the same upon them.

He also noticed a mousy-brown haired man watching him from a wall, in the same moment, another plain looking man appeared and instead walked up to him and offered a glass of champagne, he refused a couple of times but the man didn’t stop insisting so he grabbed the glass but didn’t drink it, he keep surveying his surroundings but there was no sign of Celaena anywhere, but if his dream was right, then she was near a wooden door. And she looked like she was in a hallway. The servants quarters, kitchens, or even power-rooms were his guesses.

He didn’t think to hard on it as he started running down halls and rooms, his surroundings seemed to become more familiar from the dream so he kept going, he was nearly there to where I knew Celaena was when something hard hit his head, he slammed into a wall but got up instantly and drew Truth-teller—the blade mercifully staying with him this time—he turned and faced the wait from before. He drew a simple long dagger and threw it—aiming for his head. Thankfully, he missed, moving to the side before welding his blade and slicing along his neck, the man bled out instantly and fell to the floor, not even a worthy opponent.

He didn’t linger long, wiping the blood off of his blade quickly and breaking out into a run as he raced to find his love, small puddles of blood lay on the floor, the further he went the larger they became, what the Hell? Bodies started appearing, the inflicted wounds janky and uneven, their eyes still open. Gazing to the covered sky. No matter what they had done—he still sent a silent prayer for them to whatever Gods inhabited this world, the Mother was not here to save him, she never had. Anyway.

He slowed down as to not slip and stopped, listening for anything, anything that could help, he heard gurgling, choking even, he turned another corner and beheld the sight in front of him, there she was, her sweat-covered forehead leaning against the doorframe of that oak door. Blood spilling out from her wicked mouth. Her lovely skin covered in old—and new—blood, blood, there was so much of it.

He slammed to his knees and came before his lovely Fire, her eyes flicked to his but held no emotion, the golden ring in them gone dull, she was dying, the woman he had dreamed about every second he had been away from, dying—suffering, he didn’t know what to do. Azriel had planned everything he was going to do and say to her when he was here but now. . . Now he was here. He was completely lost.

Her expression grew pained as time went on and he got enough sense to act, he took off his shirt and ripped it up into strips, wiping away all the blood to see what he was working with, she bore many wounds but he knew those were not the main cause, it was invisible, poison. He looked to the oak door and, before he could think straight, put his whole body weight into it and started shoving into it, it didn’t take long for the door to snap off its hinges and bang open, he rushed to the sink and started collecting water. Washing Celaena’s wounds and making her drink the liquid. He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t very familiar with poison, only using it a handful of times, and the Cauldron knew what poisons people used in this world, Azriel had no antidote. He was useless.

He started crying then, utterly useless, perhaps this was his punishment for all the horrible things he’d done in his lifetime, forced to watch his heart stop in front of him, he didn’t stop the tears, didn’t stop them as they fell onto her pretty face, she was crying as well, neither could tell which tears were their own. He rested his brow on hers, closing his eyes and wishing to anyone that would listen to save her.

He heard the panting of breath first, he turned his head slightly to see Dorian rushing their way, covered head to toe in blood, a dagger hanging from his grip, his face laced with anguish as he took in his friend—friends, Celaena made a small whimpering sound as she spotted him, the Prince got on his knees as grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb across the scarred-skin, “I’m sorry,” he breathed, “I’m so damn sorry. Cel. I left you for five minutes and they attacked me, I fought them off the best I could—I see you did aswell,” a soft laugh accompanied by a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “it was my Father that sent the men, he tried to take us both out, I should’ve known this would happen, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .” The Crown-prince was shaking with barely contained tears.

This was all his fault, it was his fault Celaena Sardothien and Dorian Havillard were suffering, being punished for being good, being fare, these humans were infinitely better than him and yet they were suffering, it was cruel, it was torture. It was injustice.

He distantly heard panicked yelling—for the Champion and her friend, not him,—the stomping of feet and clashing of swords against swords, yet no one moved, there was no point, not when time was running out, her heart would only beat so long. A person could only be so strong for so long.

He heard a shocked gasp as those loud footsteps stopped, he didn’t turn around this time, though, he did react when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, he just kept staring at those lovely eyes, the dulled blue that had once been brighter than the sky, she was the light he had been searching for-for centuries. And now that light was going out. The fire in her was getting smothered.

“Azriel!” He heard someone yell in his ear, he came to, realising it was Chaol, he turned his head, looking into the man’s eyes, he didn’t move, just met eyes with her again, watching as her breathing turned slower, how she closed her eyes and didn’t open them for longer periods of time, he heard the Captain swear—a colourful combination—he pushed him aside and ran to his friend, holding her face in his hands. Azriel just watched. He watched as Chaol yelled for the antidote, watched as Dorian was dragged away by struggling guards, their expressions apologetic.

He watched, just as he had done his whole life, the only thing he had ever been good at—apart from killing and torturing, but that was and never would be something he was proud of,—he watched as one of Chaol’s men shoved a strange liquid down Celaena’s throat. Blood kept flowing from out her mouth but she swallowed. Nothing happened, it was too late, it would never work, he saw the truth in her eyes, she knew this was the end.

He crawled over the blood to her, putting his scarred hands that were so beautiful to her on her face, the marks looked so strange on her un-marred skin, beauty and the beast, he kissed her lightly, his lips staining with the scarlet liquid, he looked deep into her eyes. Hazel orbs meeting those of cerulean. Water and earth. The perfect clash.

In that moment, he used all the power he had to beg to the Gods, to anything, that he would do anything to let her live, even if that meant the end of him, he used everything he had to ask for mercy, he felt a strange thing flow through him, like a curious cat rubbing against his legs. Though its voice was older than the obsidian blade that lay discarded mere-meters away, “and what would you give me in return?” It purred. “Anything” he whispered, anything.

“Your soul, even?” Curious, to see what he would do for love, “my soul, yes,” it made a humming noise, like it was contemplating its options, if it could even do that, “your love will live, but you will not be standing by her side while she does, that is your price, if you visit this world again I will see to it that your Fae girl will perish.” It said. It’s voice cold and cruel, and—Fae girl? Celaena was fae, well, that wasn’t much of a shock but. . . Why didn’t she tell him? It made so much sense now, that un-earthly grace she held, the beauty she possessed that no human should have. Fae. He would’ve laughed in any other circumstances. But not this one.

“Okay, yes, i agree, but give me at least ten minutes with her,” he said at last, Chaol and Dorian were giving eachother wary glances as they watched Azriel talk to himself, he didn’t care, though, not when he felt the thing nod its head and watched in wonder as Celaena’s face brightened ever so slightly, her breathe evening out, it had worked, it had damn worked!

He kissed her again and again, he knew his time was running out now but he had enough time to kiss her, everyone else excused themselves, their faces full of shock and amazement at Celaena Sardothien’s recovery, but he didn’t care. He looked at the assassin again. Fearful for their time to end.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, brushing his fingers down her cheek, his beautiful, wicked thing, the woman with a heart of fire, his Fireheart, he had to leave her and yet he had never loved her more, the lady who walked with death by her side, the girl that smiled at the sun that rose and frowned at the sun that set, the female that kissed the scars on his hands and called them beautiful, she would make a great queen. And an even better lover.

He kissed her once more, the last time before grabbing a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and placing it in her hands gently, she didn’t move to pick it up or read it but that was fine, she didn’t have to, he didn’t cry this time, no, he smiled. Smiled as he looked deep into her eyes and said, no pain in his voice, “I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you, you were—and are, incredible. Never in my five hundred years of existence have I met someone like you. And I damn well hope the person that steals your heart realises that, you and I both knew this wouldn’t last, no matter how hard we wished it otherwise, there is a female in my world who is just as amazing, and I think you would love her, she’s not you—and never will be. But I think it would be easy for me to love her. As easy as it was to love you.” She nodded her head slowly, still dazed but seemed to understand what he was getting at.

“What is her name?” She got out, her eyes held no agony or jealousy, just pure, unfiltered love, he smiled, showing all his teeth, “her name is Gwyneth Berdara,” she smiled at that, copying his, she hit his shoulder in a playful way before saying, “very well, send me a solstice card,” he laughed, it wasn’t loud but it was full. Gods he adored this woman.

“You can count on it,” he said, she laughed softly at that, he kissed her head in goodbye before getting up, Azriel Shadowsinger was still smiling as he grabbed Truth-teller and made a return portal, and he was still smiling when he arrived back in the Day Court library, he was moving instantly, hugging Amren quickly before flying back home to Velaris.

He landed hard on the main balcony of the House of Wind but shook it off and made his way to the library, Clotho letting him in with a wink and a smirk, he ran through stacks and stacks of books and papers, the Priestesses curious but didn’t stop him, he kept running. And then he saw her—

He pulled to a stop right in front of her, her copper hair shining in the light of the candles, she didn’t reject him when he put his hands on her face, warm skin meeting that of cold, nor did she pull away when he put his lips against hers, no, Gwyn just kissed him back.

Yes, both Azriel and Celaena had a lot of healing to do but that would come with time, he knew the assassin was strong and would survive and not only that but flourish, but him on the other hand? He wanted this incredible Valkyrie by his side as he did, he wanted to wake up to her teal eyes sparkling and know she wasn’t going anywhere, to know she saw all of him and embraced it.

Celaena Sardothien and Gwyneth Berdara were similar in a lot of ways, but also so, so different, and he loved that, Azriel would never stop loving the haughty female that shone like the sun but he also had a lot more love to give, love that was reserved for the sassy red head and her only. His Oristian.

Celaena’s POV (bonus)

Everything hurt, and not just physically, not as Azriel said what he had said and handed her a piece of paper and simply left, she knew things would end badly but like this? Celaena had no idea what or who he had been whispering to before—because she’d slipped in and out consciousness many times—but all she did know was that whatever he had done, had worked. And she was so, so grateful, but. . . Now he was gone, she was alone again. Well, not really.

Dorian sat next to her, his eyes vacant as a few Royal healers patched him up, said Healers did the same to her, working quickly and quietly, no more than ghosts, she had stopped crying some time ago but her eyes still burned, her body still shook. She had nearly died. That wasn’t something someone got over instantly, Celaena had a feeling it would be a while of healing. Especially with the news.

It had gotten out that the King had attempted to assassinate his Champion and Son and the public had been outraged, revolting against him and seemingly snapping, it seemed all the citizens had gotten sick of the Rules he’d in-forced, and, rightfully so. Many people had-had enough of their family members being sent to Endovier or its sister camp, Caculla, the Assassin couldn’t help but agree with them.

But what had shocked her the most was that one of the King of Ardalan’s court members had gone rouge and killed the man, stabbing him right through the heart with his Rapier, she had been incredibly amused to hear that, apparently the old bastard was right, there were a lot of traitors working for him. Though, Dorian hadn’t found it amusing, simply nodding and staring at nothing, like he had been doing for two hours now.

She couldn’t find it in her cold heart to feel sorry for him. No, not as she remembered how much the man had made her and her family suffer for so many years, he deserved it, everyone in Erelia could breathe.

Sighing, she finally decided to open the folded paper the Shadowsinger had given her, it was relatively new but still had a few ink stains on it and lots of folded marks, as if he had opened and closed it many times before giving it to her. She breathed in—this was the only thing she could ever remember him by, faintly, she could smell the night-chilled mist and leather of his sent, and if she tried hard enough. She could almost imagine that lovely smile of his that she adored so well, her Azriel—closing her eyes for a second, she exhaled and began reading. . .

‘Celaena Sardothien-

I write you this to tell you all the things I could not voice out loud, if you are reading this then we did indeed not last, it pains me that we did not get to see how far our love went for one another but I think, even with the short amount of time we had together, that it was one of the happiest few weeks of my life, I have lived a long life but experiencing such a short amount with you has made me realise how unfulfilling it was without you in it, you made me feel alive.

I hope this letter finds you well and I hope that you are happier now or are getting there, you deserve all the joyous moments that you will have, I have never meant anything more than that—except for when I told you I loved you, perhaps I love another person when you’re reading this but you will always hold a special place in my heart, I hope the man that steals your fiery heart is worthy of it. And I hope he knows how damn lucky he is. A piece of my heart will forever belong to you, even when we both are nothing more than dust, I am yours and you are mine, just in a different world. Star-crossed lovers, remember?

—Azriel Shadowsinger’

The End. (Actually)

Note: this series is finished, I know it might not seem like much to some but this series kept me going when I was having a rough time and that is why I want to say a special thank you to these people;

-A big thank you to @cynthiesjmxazrielslover for supporting me through this all, I know we are only mutuals but you are a great friend to me and I couldn’t have done this without you, you’re my motivator and my inspiration, I love you girl, stay amazing. 🫶

-A big thank you to @azrielslittleslut for liking and believing In this series from the start, your stories are a huge inspiration and I aspire to one day write as beautifully as you do, Mwah. ❤️

-A big thank you to @shadowsingercassia for loving all of the chapters and making me want to keep going, you appeared halfway through the series but you might as well have been here since I started writing, your love for what I do has helped me more than you could’ve imagined, I know I am not a very big or popular writer but the one little like you give me amounts to hundreds others could give. I love you so, so much. Keep being the person you are. 🫶

-some thank you’s to @aelincaddel, @yashiw, and @snoopyspace for loving this series so much that you asked to be on the taglist, that little thing has meant so much to me. Thank you, lovelies. ❤️

Thank you once again everyone, even if you just liked one of the chapters from this series and no other, or rebloged one or even commented, thank you, that small gesture of appreciation made my day. The epilogue for this series is already written and I hope you all like it. I know some people wanted Celaena and Azriel to end up together but—sadly—that didn’t happen, but I hope the ending was still good. If anyone has any questions about something in the series. Please do ask.

I love you all so much and I hope to make more stories that are just as entertaining. ❤️❤️

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therabbitthatpostthings · 9 months

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Timeline isn’t gonna match up or make sense so don’t think about it. This was for an OC I didn't care enough to fully flesh out. Kinda sorta post-canon (all Hashira alive). Little OOC so don't think about that either. Might do a part 2 with background. She/Her pronouns (I'm sorry. I'm lazy)

(Masterpost)

Tomioka Giyuu isn’t what you would call, active. In fact, the thought of him having a life outside the Demon Corps never crossed the Hashira’s minds (mostly because they didn’t think he had one IN the corps either).

He was early. Extremely early, actually. Tomioka was not the latest Hashira by any means but, up so early was, off, to say the least. Shinobu noted this when saying her ‘hellos’ to present Hashira. Tomioka, of course, stood off to the side, not making an effort to interact with anyone aside from a simple “Good Morning.” Even for the ever stoic Tomioka this behavior was weird.

“I guess he remembered us after all.” Shinazugawa hissed coming to the group. It was true that the last three meetings Tomioka had missed (granted they’ve all missed meetings due to work but never three in a row) and the thought of Tomioka slacking off and getting off scotch free added on to Shinazugawa’s ever-growing list of reasons to hate Tomioka.

“It must have been a hard mission.” Kanaroji chimed in.

This didn’t sway Shinobu or Shinazugawa. Shinobu knew it couldn’t have been missions for the last three months, Tomioka hadn’t stopped by the Butterfly Mansion once, not even to get ointment for aches and pains. Strong as they are, the Hashira are not invincible. In fact Tomioka hadn’t been badly injured since last spring. Shinobu knew all this. Even outside of missions Tomioka had just been missing overall. It’s like the silence was even quieter without him there. She peered over to Rengoku and Himajima who looked notably tired well- as tired as they possibly could -as they both lightly chatted with amongst themselves. Tomioka would say something back to them and then go back to staring blankly at the porch.

“He’s finally starting to slack off.” Obanai hissed from up high, the group now noticing he’s been here. “I hope he doesn’t think getting here early will absolve him.”

“Obanai you don’t mean Tomioka got here before you?” Shinobu teased

With a fluster shifting of his eyes, Obanai chose to glare at Giyuu rather than return her gaze. “I saw him coming from inside. Maybe Master snapped on him.”

Though they all doubted Master Ubuyashiki would ever raise his voice, the thought did fill Shinazugawa with momentary joy.

With the final Hashira, Muchiro, walking into the garden it was only a matter of time before the Master appeared. With the opening of the door, everyone’s head snapped up and voices hushed. Shinobu snuck a glance at Tomioka who seemed slightly off. He stood a little too straight and struggled to not ball his fist. Obanai’s theory suddenly seemed more plausible.

—

With the meeting concluded you could practically hear the sigh escape Giyuu’s lips as he walked to the porch. He could feel all the eyes on him as he stepped up there only to be stopped by Hinaki.

“I have to ask that you wait here.” She said calmly.

“But me and Hiro-“

“OI! Have some respect Tomioka!” Shinazugawa yelled. He approached the porch. “Who do you think you are to go around ordering people?!”

He caught Giyuu’s glare from on high. His unchanging eyes shifting back to Hinaki only angered Shinagawa more. “He’s looking down on me,” Shinazugawa thought this an act of war.

Glaring back at him, he said “It’s one thing for you to skip meetings but to disrespect the Master’s family.”

“I’m not disrespecting her, I had a question.” Giyuu replied plainly. He was feeling slightly annoyed and very fearful now. This was not how today was supposed to go. He turned back to Hinaki, “Please, we must be on our way-“

“You bastard.” Shinazugawa was already reaching to pull Giyuu off the porch (not wanting to beat him on the porch, that would be disrespectful). Giyuu was ready to draw his sword when the sound of footsteps alerted them all. Out from the door burst Kiriya and another small child. They maneuvered around Giyuu and Hanaki before Kiriya had tripped taking the small boy with him. Before they could launch themselves off the porch Giyuu caught one under each arm and held onto Hinaki’s collar to keep her from falling over.

He set the children down gently, “Forgive me please, Ubuyashiki-san.”

“No, thank you Tomioka-San.” Hinaki replied, graceful as ever. Lady Ubuyashiki was quick behind them to collect her son. Giyuu apologized once again.

“Hiroshi,” Giyuu turned back to the small boy. He stood slightly behind Kiriya with his head low in shame. Giyuu knelt down, “You should apologize to Lady Ubuyashiki and Hinaki.”

Big blue eyes filled with embarrassment the boy complied. Lady Ubuyashiki smiled kindly, “Please be careful next time you return.”

“He can come back?” Kiriya asked

“As long as Tomioka is okay with it.” She smiled kindly

“Of course.” Giyuu replied as the three kids waved off. “Come on, we’re going home.” The boy followed behind Giyuu quietly. He had a small round face and wild black hair sticking out in all directions. Following along, Hiroshi started to sniffle and finally stopped on the bottom step, tugging on Giyuu’s haori.

“What’s wrong?” Giyuu asked

“I’m sorry Papa.” He cried softly as Giyuu picked him up in his arms trying to soothe the boy.

“It’s okay Hiroshi, I know it was an accident but there’s two of you and only one Hinaki. She could have been hurt. Please be more careful.”

The boy nodded sniffling into his fathers shoulder.

The remaining Hashira stared in astonishment at the action. By the time he got his son to calm down Giyuu had finally noticed that he never left the garden and out the front of the home as intended. Still holding Hiroshi, Giyuu bowed his goodbye and left the garden. Before the rest of Hashira could finish processing what just happened Rengoku and Himajime also left quietly behind him.

—

The next meeting came about a month and a half later. This time Giyuu entered at his normal time with Muichiro coming afterwards. He actively stood apart hoping they all would have forgotten (they didn’t), and suffered silently as the many eyes bore into his head.

It wasn’t just Giyuu, Shinobu was also shooting her glance to Himejima and Rengoku. Himejima was holding up well (surprisingly) but Rengoku was going to pop. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Tengen spent the last week and a half trying to break whatever secret Tomioka had about the same child out of him. An unstoppable force and an immovable object and all that.

Giyuu was silently praying for this meeting to end soon and end this mental game all the Hashira were taking part in. He had already prepared an exit tragedy to get out with the least amount of questions. He looked at Rengoku and Himejima. The game plan was set and they just need to be ready to go.

You could feel the tension ease when Master Ubuyashiki called the meeting to a close. They all stood quietly, paitiently waiting for him to go inside before all hell broke loose. And just as the door closed Lady Ubuyashiki called out, “Tomioka-San. A word please.”

Rengoku was screaming on the inside as Giyuu looked over to him briefly. Tengen hardly waited for Giyuu to take a single step, “How come you two got to know but we didn’t?”

“A secret child Tomioka?” Shinobu called out “You must not like us if we didn’t get to know.”

“It’s not that…” Giyuu finally broke his silence. He reached for the door when it suddenly swung open and the little pitter of footsteps was heard. Giyuu jumped back and was quick to catch the small figure barreling towards him, “Hiroshi!? What are you doing here?”

“Mama hurt her feet.” Hiroshi replied like it was obvious. All heads snapped to the door and out stepped a woman on a pink kimono.

“(Y/N)?” He looked surprised.

“Ah, Giyuu!” She peered up walking over to him

“What happened?” He stepped closer to hold onto her waist.

“Just some sores and aches. Lady Ubuyashiki has been so kind.” She turned to both of them “It’s been in honor in your presence.”

“The pleasure is ours, Lady Tomioka.”

And that’s what broke the string holding all together. The family wordlessly walked off the porch and headed to leave..

Shinobu called out “T-Tomioka?!”

“Yes?” Said (Y/N) and Hiroshi as all three turned to face them.

“Oh! Rengoku-San, Himajime-San! So good to see you both.” (Y/N) smiled

Himejima finally exhaled as both men walked over to greet (Y/N). Both of them gave Giyuu an apologetic look. Hiroshi looked over their shoulders to the remaining Hashira still in a daze. Looking at them side by side there was no denying it. Hiroshi is identical to Giyuu, just smaller and with the cutest round face that Mitsuri just had to gush over.

“You are so cute! Like a mini Tomioka!” She squealed.

“Your hair looks like mochi!” Hiroshi stayed proudly. “Mama, can we get mochi!”

(Y/N) smiled, “That sounds like our que. It was an honor to meet you all.”

The family walked out the garden, with Rengoku and Himejima sneaking out with them.

“What the fuck just happened?” Shinazugawa broke the silence.

—

The next meeting was well over two months and the pillars were determined to not let Giyuu go without answers. Especially since he’d recently had to heal up at the Butterfly Mansion while Shinobu was out. Before he could even think of leaving they had him cornered, Obanai watching over Rengoku and Himejima.

“When were you gonna tell us you were married?!” Uzui shouted

“No one asked and I’d rather have a small wedding…” Giyuu answered plainly.

“What about your ring then?”

Giyuu pulled down his collar to show a silver ring on a chain tucked into his undershirt.

“How did you two find out then?” Obanai hissed.

“Tomioka requested I accompany him on a mission so he could be home earlier,” Himejima stated.

“I had an urgent matter with the Master and happened to meet them all as they were leaving.” Rengoku said.

“Wait so Master knows too?” Mitsuri asked

“Yes, they were at the wedding.” Giyuu replied.

“You are unbelievable.” Shinazugawa muttered. “How were you able to get married?”

Giyuu didn’t seem to have an answer. It’s something he thought to himself many times but when (Y/N) smiled at him he always forgot about it. Before he could try to answer, he heard (Y/N) calling out to him. The Hashira were surprised to (Y/N) walk up in a demon slayer uniform and golden checkered haori. She smiled and bowed to the Hashira, “Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No, I'm done here.” Giyuu replied.

“Wait, Tomioka!” Shinobu called as they turned to leave.

“Yes?” They both answered to Shinobu’s annoyance. They did it again.

(Y/N) nudged Giyuu forward as she assumed they meant him. Uzui cut in, “We only wanted to officially meet you, Lady Tomioka.”

“Oh!” (Y/N) smiled “I’m honored to meet you all, I am Tomioka (Y/N), (Y/N) is fine.”

“It's so good to meet you! How long have you and Giyuu been together?” Mitsuri asked, the only genuine person in all this.

“I’ve known him since I joined the Corps, we met while I was on my way to a job, it was in separate areas but we met up on the way back.” (Y/N) answered recalling their younger years.

“We’ve been married for five years.” Giyuu answered. The Hashira took note that their son looked about that age. It took all of Uzui’s strength for him to not comment on it.

“How sweet!” Mitsuri cheered “I had no idea you had such a happy family Tomioka!”

“We try not to talk about it,” (Y/N) smiled. A lot more open than Giyuu but (Y/N) also enjoyed their privacy. “Up until now, only Master Ubuyashiki knew. Hiroshi and Kiriya became good friends.”

The Hashira had a million other questions but they tethered on inappropriate or just plain mean. Out of respect for Lady Tomioka, they held themselves together. The strangeness of the situation wasn’t lost on either of them. They were happy though. The couple said their goodbyes and turned to leave. The Hashira saw the tension lift off Giyuu’s shoulders as he smiled with his wife.

“Why must we question Tomioka,” Himejima spoke once they left. “Lord Uzui is married with three wives.”

“Yeah but that was before he joined the corps,” Sanemi said “We didn’t know him then, we know Tomioka- barley. He’s a fucking buzzkill and he has a sweet woman that not only married him but slept with him at least once!?”

With those “graceful” last words they parted for the evening.

#shitpost #shitposting #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tomioka giyu x reader #tomioka giyuu #writing fanfics at 3 am #cringe-#no beta we die like men #Giyuu Secret Family AU

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chelseypprimrose · 1 year

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The Pre-College Bucket List / negan smith x reader (stepdad/stepdaughter)

Warnings ⚠️ : voyerism (someone asleep in the room), unprotected sex, cum swapping, blowjob, daddy kink, choking

Author’s note: think this might be the longest and dirtiest thing I’ve ever wrote and I had so much fun with this one, hope you enjoy! 🤍🫡 not proof read yet!

“Y/N! Can you chop those vegetables that are on the kitchen counter please?!” You sighed, rolling your eyes. Even in your last days at the family home, she was still expecting you to do mundane tasks. You didn’t even want this going away party she had planned for you, it wasn’t like you were going that far away anyways, only about a hours drive. More so, you knew the only reason your mom was hosting this party, so she could brag to her friends about how you had got into such a prestigious college. That’s all she ever did, never told you how proud she was of you, only ever posting on social media about it for validation from people over the internet. While you had gotten used to it now, it still stung more than you’d ever admit.

Opening the draw and taking the knife out, you started to chop the various vegetables that were in the bowl, daydreaming out the large window that showed the back garden outside. That’s when he came into view, your stepdad Negan. He’d been in your life for around the past two years, off and on again like a cringey sitcom drama. Him and your mother had broken up more times than you could count, always over some petty arguments, more so what teenagers would fall out about, never mind two fully grown adults.

He kept coming back though, each time, for what aspect of your mothers personality you didn’t know, it was no secret he was always in a mood with her, you recalled even once them managing to get into a argument during sex, over what you weren’t sure. It ended with raised voices, the threat of ending the relationship and the slamming of the front door quite dramatically by Negan.

Here he still was though, probably remaining because of your mothers crippling fear of spending her later years alone. You watched as he opened the large black grill, placing the charcoal into the bottom compartment, ready for cooking the various types of meat he’d purchased. His white t-shirt clinging to his toned muscles underneath, those damn red gym shorts he always paraded around in, even when he wasn’t working as the gym coach at your old high school. His hair slicked back with a small amount of gel, salt and pepper beard trimmed and neat as it always was. As bad as your heated thoughts were, you couldn’t help yourself. Boys your age just weren’t as attractive as the older men you’d come across in your life, boring.

Always the same pick up lines, always trying to hard to get into girl’s panties while offering nothing themselves, not even being able to give you the release you needed. Frustrated wasn’t even the word to begin to describe how most of your recent situationships had been.

His dirty mouth as well, always charming and funny, he’d make you laugh at the worst of times, so inappropriate but that’s what you liked about him. You continued on with your chopping, taking small and quick glances at his impressive frame when you could, now firing up the grill, the smoke rising. Looking down at the now finished cucumber, you reached out to grab the next bowl when you saw Negan’s arms reach to the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it off in one motion, his slightly tanned and toned stomach coming into view, your eyes glued to his chest.

“Fuck!” You yelped out, the knife making a small cut on the side of your finger, blood flowing out the wound as you dropped the knife onto the counter. Negan’s head whipped around in your direction, taking large strides through the double doors into the kitchen. “You alright, Y/N?” He asked, placing his calloused hands over yours, slightly pulling you towards the kitchen sink, turning the cold water tap on. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, I was distracted… wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing.” You slightly laughed, hoping he wouldn’t know the reasoning for your moment of ignorance. “Yeah, I gathered that.” Negan stated, a slight smirk coming across his face as he stared into your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, holding his gaze as if it was only you two who knew why. “So many distractions around us in this world, wouldn’t you say?” That knowing smirk still plastered over his features. You nodded, not wanting to further embarrass yourself.

Later on, the party was in the second hour, all your friends and family in attendance, the music playing from the outdoor speakers. Most attendees were standing around, some laying on the sun loungers placed next to the big pool and bar that was next to your house. You had a red cup in hand, with wine spritzer, sipping every couple minutes, you’d had enough food that you were feeling tipsy but not out of control. You’d rather not end up embarrassing yourself at your own leaving party, giving the small town something to gossip about after you’d gone. Having small talk here and there with different people, you could hear your mother still boasting loudly about how easy you’d been accepted into the college to various colleagues you recognised from her work place.

“How are you enjoying your party doll?” Deep voice coming from the side of you, Negan coming into view from the peripheral vision of your eye. You smiled, taking another drink of your wine. “Good thanks, not the sort of party I’m used to. Kind of…” you trailed off. “Boring? Think the word your looking for, is boring.” You laughed, looking up at Negan as he raised his eyebrows comically. “You can’t say that! It’s rude.” Your words coated in sarcasm, even though you a hundred percent agreed with his observation. “I appreciate the effort from you and mom but I didn’t really want the big celebration, I’m not moving country, I’m moving a couple hours away. Not so much of a big deal.” You took a seat on the end of the linen sun-lounger, the grey matching umbrella blocking the sunset from your eyes. Negan followed suit, your knees brushing against each other.

“Yeah, well, I tried to tell her you’d be against the big show but I couldn’t convince her. You know she’ll take any opportunity to shit on what other people are doing.” You nodded along, showing your agreement in his statement. You couldn’t deny he was right, your mother would always have to be one above everyone else, a big pissing contest. You thought it was pathetic, just a fake mask to cover over her crumbling love life and how she hadn’t moved up the career ladder in the past ten years. You vowed to yourself you’d never let your life get that way, hard work and dedication would get you to where you wanted to be. “Anything you want to do before you head off to college doll?” You furrowed your brows at Negan’s question as he took another drink of his beer, you weren’t expecting it as it had nothing to do with your previous topic of discussion.

He noted the confused look on your face as he reached into the pocket of his shorts, pulling out a piece of paper with pink lines and heart boarders. Your eyes widened with shock, it was paper from your notebook. He opened it, the words coming into view. “Quite a extensive list, some really good stuff on here dollface.” He smirked, his eyes raking over your pretty, cursive handwriting. He started to laugh, “I could help you out with some of these you know?” You thought he was joking, looking at his face you knew he was serious. You couldn’t remember what you had written, how could you? You had wrote this list a couple months back when you had first got accepted into college. He winked at you before rising to his feet, walking inside to get another beer. You looked on at the surrounding people, he could help you? What did that even mean?

Later on, people had started saying their goodbyes, voicing their congratulations to you as they headed home. “Thank you for coming! I’ll see you on Monday in the office.” Your mother waved at the last couple to leave before shutting the front door, wine glass still in hand. “Hey, I’m not that tired yet, shall we stick a movie on?” Negan suggested, weird you thought. He was normally the first one to retreat to bed after one of your mums social parties but not feeling fatigued yourself you agreed. “Yeah sure but I’ll probably fall asleep, I’m quite tired.” Your mom stated, accompanied with a yawn. You rolled your eyes, more like she’d had too much wine and couldn’t handle it. You moved to the living room, grabbing the large blanket from the first couch, covering your body.

Your mom took a place on the couch placed on the other side of the room, lying down. Negan walked into the room with a small bowl of popcorn, placing it on the glass coffee table in front of the tv. Sitting next to you, he grabbed the remote, putting on some random chic-flick. You settled down, letting your body sink into the couch. Negan’s arm raised to the back of the couch, his fingertips just slightly touching your shoulder. You kept your eyes trained on the tv, feeling your heart beating at a faster pace than before. He started mindlessly drawing small circles on the top of your skin, you felt your core getting tighter with every small touch. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying to calm the wave of lust that was flowing over your body. Negan used his other hand to dig into his pocket, pulling out that list again, re opening it, placing it on his knee. “What about this one doll?” He asked, pointing to one of the lines you’d written.

‘Have sex next to someone asleep, fear of getting caught might make it sexier!’

Oh my god, you thought. You couldn’t even remember writing that one, thinking back to the day you wrote it, might have a couple too many drinks. You locked eyes with him, his signature shit-eating grin on his face. “I…um. I-I don’t remember writing that one.” You trailed off, trying to find any excuse to why you’d write something so taboo. Before you could think, Negan threw the paper onto the coffee table, his strong hands grabbing the bottoms of your thighs, lifting you up onto him, the feeling of his semi-erect cock digging into you. You placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, still in disbelief that this was happening.

“Remember when I said I could help you with this list doll?” He whispered into your ear, your face red with embarrassment. You slowly nodded, giving a small sound of agreement. “Do you want my help?” Negan inquired, his hands grabbing the round globes of your ass, emitting a slight whimper out of you at the rough touch of Negan. “Oh god yes, Negan please.” You softly spoke. “Gonna have to be quiet for me doll, wouldn’t want to get caught now would we?” Breathing heavily, your lips were caught by Negan in a deep kiss, your hands trailing from his shoulders to run through his hair. His hands gave another grab of your ass, more powerful, enough to leave red handprints.

“Shit doll, you don’t understand how long I’ve been waiting for this, you’re pretty ass parading around in this house, I can’t believe I haven’t gone fucking crazy.” He stated against your lips, his teeth coming down softly on your lower lip. You faintly moaned out at his confession, there was always some unspoken tension between you both, you just never thought it would come to this conclusion. You broke away from his kiss, fumbling to pull his shorts down to his ankles, lifting your lower half up to get them down successfully. His now fully erect cock gently slapped against his stomach, your hand coming down to smoothly wrap around the base of his cock, rubbing up and down. Negan let out a soft groan, his head falling back as he leaned into your hand, you made the move to the floor, up on your knees in front of him. “Oh shit honey, fuck, you are a dirty fucking girl.” He whispered out.

Your lips wrapped around his tip, peppering small kisses and kitten licks before you took it fully into your mouth, slowly working the top half of his cock. He opened his legs a little wider, allowing you to work further down as he thrusted his hips a little, causing you to gag ever so slightly. His shaft heavy on your tongue, the salty pre cum dancing on your tastebuds. A small trail of saliva leaking from your mouth, you felt your pussy getting slick with your juices, the ever growing danger of what you were doing turning you on more than you imagined.

A small creak caused your body to stop, a slight spark of adrenaline flowing through. Your mom had slightly moved from her sleeping position, turning to face the back end of the sofa. You waited for what felt like minutes, before you heard small snoring, affirmation to continue your illicit activity. Negan’s hip bucking ever so slightly, making his cock go further down your throat, you released him with a small pop, the gathered salvia making a bridge from his throbbing tip to your lips. Negan pulled you up, placing a sloppy kiss on your neck, regaining your position back on his thighs. “Shit doll, seeing you down there with a mouthful of my cock, fuck.” Negan mumbled against your neck, pulling your dress up and over your head, your arms reaching up to help.

Negan’s lips moved from your neck to the tops of your breasts, placing kisses while roughly grabbing them. The sensation alone causing you to feel tingles running through your body, he expertly unhooked the back of your bra, your breasts now free. He bit at your left nipple, sucking it slowly afterwards, his hands wandering from your breasts to your panties, pulling them to the side, exposing your pussy to the slight cold of the room. Goosebumps trailed down your arms and legs at the new feeling, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit. “You ready doll?” You enthusiastically moaned, grabbing the base of his cock to position it at your opening before slowly moving down, filling you inch by inch. You let out a moan at the fullness you felt, Negan’s hand coming up to grab your throat with slight pressure. “Fuck doll, those pretty noises are going to get us caught. You fit me like a fucking glove, so fucking tight.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Negan started to to move his hips, sliding in and out of you with slow strokes, filling you up even more.

Your hands met his shoulders again to steady yourself, your nails digging into them, a caught breath in your throat as the pressure on your neck got stronger. You met Negan’s thrusts, building in speed, strokes now hard and fast. “Shit baby, how’d you think your mother would feel if she woke up and saw you bouncing on daddy’s dick, huh?” You whimpered, the taboo nature of the whole situation caused you to grip your walls harder around his cock. “She’d be so upset daddy but you feel so fucking good inside me.”

“Damn right I do, doll.” You let out small breathless sighs, “Aw, is it too much for you to handle baby girl? Can’t take daddy’s dick as well as you’d like?” He taunted you as he thrust deeper into you. “No, I can handle it daddy. Fuck, you make me feel so fucking good!” You were getting so close, his cock coming into contact with your cervix it felt like. No one had ever made you feel this way, you thought you had died and gone to heaven. Negan could feel you clenching around his cock, knowing your release was close, he took his hand off your throat and began rubbing small, hard circles on your sensitive clit. You shallowly moaned and whimpered out, chanting daddy softly, your breath getting faster and shorter. “Go on baby, cum all over daddy’s dick.” You let your body go, your orgasm washing over your body, seeing stars behind your eyes. Body going limp, shaking as you rode out your high, the couch underneath you getting soaked with your juices, some coating Negan’s hand that was still playing with your clit.

The feeling of your orgasm caused a domino effect, Negan groaning as he came to climax as well, you felt the hot cum coating your walls, pulling out to finish, the last strips coating your lower abdomen. His fingers entered your mouth, tasting your release on your tongue, reigniting the fire you felt in your stomach.

You copied his motion, swiping the cum that settled on your naval, sucking off your fingers, the salty taste mixing with the aftertaste of yourself. Negan smirked, watching you intensely as your fingers came out of your mouth with a slight pop. A satisfied smile on your face, as you let your body flop down next to him, your mother still in deep sleep on the couch across the room. “Doll, I’m going to fucking miss you being gone, shit! We need to do that again sometime.” You giggled, bringing Negan into a kiss that showed him you felt the exact same.

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