#and i was a fool. but my eyes have been gloriously opened | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nolpat0 · 3 years

Text

something like this | s. crosby

summary: sidney has always wanted someone like her and confess as much to her

wc: 1,573

warnings: mentions of hospital/injury, one sexual innuendo

The low, metronomic beeping of the monitor keeps a steady, consistent beat to the familiar, dulcet hum of a female voice. In his drugged, cloud nine-like haze, Sidney does his best imitation of a grin, the gloriously soothing tone of her words easing him out of his concern.

"Sid?" her whisper is followed by the warm press of her fingers against the skin of his upper arm, a sweet reminder of her unwavering support. "Are you awake?"

He is; but the boy fights the grin that is sure to give him away in order to keep the easy flow of her rambles going, enjoying her vivid stories and the giggle at the end of her words as she confesses the minuscule details of her day to him. She believes him to be fast asleep, for her words to be nothing but a useless hum, and he enjoys the unexpected imtimacy of the affectionate gesture.

"I see what you're doing," she speaks again, the edge of her words exploding into the melodic tumble of her soft laughter. However, she doesn't cease her talking. "I'll just keep talking and making a fool out of myself so you can pretend you're asleep."

Sidney can't help the glimmer of love that warms his hospital blanket-clad body, a small, tender smile tugging at the edges of his full lips, revealing himself. Her fingertips trail over the carved outline of his cheekbones and brush against his hair as he finally opens his coffee-colored eyes. He gives her a earnest smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his dark eyes travel over her face, his full, pink lips splitting open into a wide grin to reveal shining teeth. She mumbles a soft, calming greeting and caressed his cheek a second time with the tips of her fingertips.

“So you gonna fall asleep again so I can tell you what Mat did next?” She asks, the edges of her lips curled into a playful smirk as she teases him, fingers still running agaisnt the midnight strands of his short hair in a loving manner.

Sidney can’t help the gentle, genuine laugh that rumbles from his chest, his grip on the pale blue hospital blanket loosening as he lets his palm fall flat on the curve of her knee. He nods quickly, eager to keep hearing her soft speech and tease her back, “Yes of course. My bad.”

He doesn’t catch the small smile that lights up her face because his dark lashes are already falling flat agaisnt his faintly flushed cheeks. She doesn’t waste another second launching into a detailed discription of her colleague, Mat’s experience with a particularly awkward run in with their boss. As she gently lulled him farther into the comforting clutches of sleep, Sidney tried his very best to keep his facial expressions netural but failed quite badly, which propelled her further into making him laugh. As the tall hockey player felt sleep finally take him, he felt overwhelmed with the buzzing, delicious feeling of love. He was consumed by the complete love he held in his heart for the girl still talking and running her fingers through his hair. He was too deeply in love to even think properly. And Sidney loved every minute of it.

———

Sidney couldn’t feel the light press of her palm agaisnt his as the white lab coat clad doctor filled the couple in on his prognosis and what the steps leading them forward would look like, a detailed, and frankly terrifying process that would have Sidney recovering and ready to return on the ice in a month or so. His breath was strained through his lungs, his jaw dancing with a clenched muscle as he tried to reign in his fears and desire to lace up his skates without a practical thought about the nasty consequences. Sidney just wanted to return to the locker room and resume being captain, and knew the only way to that was through the plan the doctor was currently laying out. Which scared Sidney to his bones if he was allowed to be completely honest.

“Sid,” she called, eyes watching her boyfriend closely as the hospital room door clicked closed in the wake of the doctors exit. Nerves clung to her limbs but she shook them off in order to ease Sid and his tense posture. She tried again, more forcefully. “Sidney.”

His chin dips and he finally slides his cinnamon coloured eyes to lock onto hers, trying to mask his evident fears. But she knows him far too well to skip the flicker of fear shining in his irises or the slight quiver of nerves that shook his large hands. Instinctively, her palms slide over his, fingers knitting tightly with his in a subconscious attempt to ease his shaking.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she nods, refusing to break eye contact in order to get her confidence across. She could tell he was scared, as was she, but she understood that in the end, all would work out. And they would be ok.

“I know.” Sidney tries again, blatantly deflecting.

Her lips quirk into a soft, knowing smile, her eyes flickering up distractedly as she brushes his hair back from his forehead. She smiles deeper absentmindedly, a smile that Sidney adores with all his heart. He felt a tiny fraction of his terror fading away like ice thawing in his veins.

“You don’t have to act like you’re not worried, Sid.” her eyes dropped to hold his loving gaze, her lips set in a firm line. “You don’t have to always be the strong one. That’s what I’m here for.”

A tight breath eases from his lips as his eyes close lightly, his heart settling back into its former steady pace of calm at her carefully chosen words. He was grateful, for her presence and the pressure of her fingers in his and the weight of her words. He’d never experienced a love like hers, where she loved him wholly and unconditionally, allowing him to remove all his amored layers and bravado. He revealed his true self to her and she had only kissed him passionately and grinned like he’d given her the best gift she could receive, repeating her daily mantra of how much she loved him. Sidney had never felt more loved than he did at that moment. His heart swelled fondly at the memory, the edges of his lips turning up in a doting smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, a little unsure of what exactly he was thanking her for, but the statement was truthful.

She responded with a light, fleeting kiss pressed to his temple, her palms reaching up to softly cup the sharp curve of his jaw. He waits with baited breath, but soon relaxes fully under her loving gaze content with just staring at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the syllables falling softly from his chapped lips in a unintentional audible confession.

She blinks at the unguarded, genuine compliment she knows he must mean, when she’s been curled up in the uncomfortable hospital chair beside his bed for the past two days, sleepless nights smudged under her eyes and dressed in his old clothes. She feels the burn of her cheeks under his gaze and the compliment. Sidney catches the slight embarrassment and reaches out to brush his thumbs under her eyes. “You’re cute when you get flustered.”

She rolls her eyes in response, mouth curving into a mirthful grin.

“Yeah, yeah, why don’t you fall back asleep?”

Sidney reaches out and hooks his fingers the the belt loops of her jeans, pulling her closer and onto the narrow mattress, shifting his own body to accommodate hers. “Only if you sleep with me.” he replied, coffee coloured eyes gleaming with flirtatious mischief. His fingers don’t loosen their hold, instead going to grip her hips and pull her flush to his side, savouring the warmth radiating from her smaller figure now dwarfed by his size. She curls tightly to his side, fingers digging into the material of his shirt and leg falling over his as his palm cups the underside of her thigh before it gave away to her knee. She hums with a soft laughter, commenting that she’ll think about his desirous proposal, ignoring the fact they both knew she’d already complied. Sidney settled in with a long, adoration filled kiss to her hair that didn’t hold a drop of lust. He grins at the tired lilt to her voice as she mumbles softly into his thin shirt, the reverberations flowing through his chest. His fingertips smoothed over her hair as he breathed deeply, catching her familiar scent. “I love you so much.” Sidney whispered into the layers of her hair as she promptly fell asleep to the barley audible confession, meaning every syllable with his whole heart.

When her breathing has evened out, a soft almost imperceptible whistle of her breath as she falls into a deep, dream-less sleep upon his chest, fingers tightly curled in the material of his thin shirt, as if she can’t fathom letting him go, even in sleep, Sidney reveals his truest confession.

“I’ve always wanted to be loved by someone like you.” his words are hot and hit the top of her forehead before he kisses her skin. Sidney is quick to brush a stray eyelash from her cheek. “And now I have you. And I’m not letting you go.”

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

Hello! How are you? May I pls request the prompts scratches and collar for Sakusa Kiyoomi for the yandere writing challenge thingy? I hope this is alright! Thank you <3

Thanks for requesting!! Sakusa is one of my favorites actually, so I am really excited to write for him! uwu Please enjoy!

Scratches - “Try that again sweetheart, I dare you.” (I don’t want to overlap prompts too much, so I am doing just this one!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Living with Kiyoomi had never been easy.

When you two got married, you’d been quite intimidated by him after your husband wouldn’t look at you even once the whole day. You thought to yourself about how much he must have hated you, considering he only agreed because you two had been promised since your childhood. This marriage didn’t seem like something he was interested in, and the moment you were ‘unloaded’ at his home, you felt like the strangest organism in the whole world.

Nonetheless, you tried to be liked. If you at least couldn’t be a nuisance to him, you thought he might accept you as his partner. But all your attempts backfired gloriously. He wouldn’t eat your cooking, clean over your cleaning, ignore you after he came home from training. For the first year or so, he wouldn’t even take you to one of his matches. You were sure other spouses were allowed to go, so why not you?

But you got used to it. You had to, somehow, or else you probably would have never stopped feeling unloved and unwanted. It wasn’t what you expected, hearing about love all this time, but you didn’t have a bad life by his side, at least. His accounts were filled with money, food was delivered fresh to your doorstep every day, and though you didn’t know anyone in the city that you two settled in, you got along well enough with your neighbors, so you didn’t feel too lonely.

And what you least expected, once you accepted that you and Kiyoomi could never be an item, he started to relax too. Had you been too much? Maybe pushing him too far without realizing? Intruding on him? Or perhaps he had just been told to be nicer to you by his parents, but your surprise was great when he joined you to watch TV one evening.

Given, he didn’t speak a word and didn’t seem too interested in the show you were watching. There also were about two seats free between you, but it was a start. And gradually, your relationship improved.

»»———————— ♡

Nervously, you looked at your outfit, wondering if it was too much. Kiyoomi had never asked you to dress up to accompany him before, scowling whenever you decided to try and impress him with your fashion sense or asked to go with him. Even now, you knew that asking you to come and meet sponsors was just a way to look good in other people’s eyes; he even had a suit delivered to him that day. It wasn’t you who was wanted. It was the image of being married to someone. But as his partner, maybe that was the only thing you could do to please your husband.

“Are you ready?” he asked through the door, not daring to step into your room. He never had entered it ever since you moved in, and you wondered if it was because he disliked you so much or because he feared you were ‘dirty’. But you gave yourself an encouraging nod in the mirror, quickly making your way out. “All done!”

You didn’t expect him to stand right in front of the closed door as you opened it, almost running into him but stopping at the last second. “Do I look fine?” you asked, noticing him appraising you over the rim of his white mask. He looked comically like that, suited up yet wearing gloves and mask as if he was going to clean, but even so, you had to give it to his looks that he was handsome. You didn’t doubt your own attractiveness, but the curt, “It’s alright,” he muttered did sting.

»»———————— ♡

Had you known how exhausting these kinds of events were, you would have almost been thankful that he never took you with him before. Giving it all you had sure was taxing when you never did it before, but you wanted oh-so-badly to be accepted by Kiyoomi’s side. You didn’t even notice your own mental exhaustion until you finally had a chance to sit down.

Alone, again.

Maybe you simply weren’t fit for this kind of life. You didn’t know much about volleyball, and there were many weird insider jokes you didn’t understand. Everyone appeared so friendly, some faces still familiar from the wedding, yet you couldn’t help but notice the pity in their eyes. They were all thinking the same thing, you were sure. Just how pitiful you were to be so unluckily married to a man who never seemed interested in what you two had.

“What’s the long face for, hm?” you suddenly heard a cheerful voice, something cold being pressed to your cheek and startling you. You looked up in confusion, only to be blinded by a warm and cheerful grin, the light of the room being reflected through a water bottle and accentuating his features even more.

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, reaching up for the drink he held out to you. “I didn’t see you coming, Atsumu-san. I’m sorry, I was in thoughts...”

“No offense, but you don’t seem to have much fun,” he sighed, plopping down next to you. “It’s such a shame Omi-Omi never shows you off, yer so cute, you know? Makes it much easier to endure parties like these!”

Laughing it off, you found yourself mesmerized by how carefree Atsumu seemed. To you, all of this was a big deal, and you had always assumed it was the same for everyone. But apparently, more people shared your sentiment of the time seemingly dragging out. Without noticing, you chuckled, and Atsumu’s eyes flitted over to you before he straightened his back briefly, crossing his legs. Smirk falling over his lips, you almost caught yourself gasping at how gorgeous he looked in the ambient lighting around you two.

“That’s much better. Ya should laugh more!”

Feeling the warmth spread through your face, you quickly cleared your throat, looking away as to not stare. For a moment there, you thought he really looked like an angel, making you feel at peace around him. “I just- You know- You call him Omi-Omi?” you changed the topic quickly, trying to hide the awestruck expression on your face by hiding behind your hand a bit.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Wouldn’t recommend it, he doesn’t really like it, but it’s fun teasing him, ya know? He gets all-” Reaching up, Atsumu pushed his brows together and put on his best impression of Kiyoomi. “‘Don’t call me that, you Idiot. Work on your serve if you have so much time.’ That’s what he says to me! I’m just trying to be friendly...”

Shaking your head slowly, you couldn’t hold back your laugh as you listened to him gush on about your husband treating him ‘unfairly’. Part of you felt sad having to hear it from a third person, never having been able to collect experiences with him yourself. Still, you were also relieved to see he wasn’t just treating you so coldly. “You’re so funny, Atsumu-san,” you chuckled, and he finally stopped talking, relaxing next to you after his tirade.

“There we go,” he mumbled, and you felt his hand fall to your head, giving it some pats. It made your heart grow to receive the affection, slowly but surely making you realize you had been missing fooling around and laughing or even being touched gently for a change. “Don’t let him get to you, ya hear me? Or I’ll come and kick his ass for you!”

“Who’s ass are you kicking?” you both were suddenly interrupted, and knowing the voice, you looked up. Shame hitting you, you stood up, Atsumu’s hand falling from you as you slipped out from under it, facing your husband cautiously. “Kiyoomi, you’re back!” you mumbled, wondering if your mood change was too noticeable. “Yeah, we’re leaving,” he announced, ready to go.

“Don’t just go around touching other people’s spouses, Atsumu,” he warned his colleague sharply, his arm coming around your back. Still, not even the tip of his glove touched you, much less gentle than Atsumu did.

“Mood-killer,” you heard Atsumu complain. “Good night, [Name]!” he called after you, and you graced him with a brief smile thrown over your shoulder, waving after him while you let yourself be led out by your husband.

»»———————— ♡

The ride home was almost as tiring as the evening itself, and the streetlights passing you as you looked out the window weren’t enough to keep you awake. It was a long drive, but the next thing you noticed was a warm body carrying you upstairs from the garage. “Bastard,” you heard a voice, slowly but surely regaining your senses.

“Kiyoomi?” you asked meekly, rubbing your eyes. Blinking a few times, when you looked up, you were met with a disgusted glare staring down at you, instantly making you shrivel into yourself. A flight instinct set in, and only now you noticed he was carrying you through the hallway of your house, not bothering being gentle with the bathroom door once he reached it.

He seemed furious and disgusted, and at least one of these were emotions you had never seen him make before. You almost expected him to drop you into the bathtub as you found yourself hovering over it, but he set you down gently. Nonetheless, the sudden stream of cold water hit you like a slap in the face as he turned on the shower without even a moment of hesitation. It grew warmer quickly, but you found yourself weirded out as your clothes began to stick to you. Kiyoomi, too, barely took off his blazer before kneeling down next to the tub, reaching for the shampoo standing close by.

It was in no way gentle or comfortable as he rubbed it onto your head, the gloves he wore not helping at all. You began to splutter as you had to close your eyes, soap going everywhere on your face. “Where else did he touch?” Kiyoomi asked, almost too calm for the fact it felt like he was trying to press the shampoo into your head rather than wash you. “No- Nowhere!” you complained, ducking out from his touch and wiping away soap from your face. “What are you doing?!”

“I don’t believe you,” was all the answer you received to your question. “Tell me. Now. Don’t make this harder for us.”

“What...” you muttered, flinching as you felt his hands fall to your body, grabbing your clothes. “What’s wrong with you!” you finally yelled, swatting his hands away harder than you wished you did. Finally, you got the time to wash off the soap and open your eyes again, feeling ill-treated and confused by his actions. Though despite the warm water, as you finally managed to look at him again, you felt your body freeze.

You thought you knew how he looked at you all this time. Disappointed, disapproving, and disgusted, but this time it was different. He looked at you as if you just ripped his heart out and claimed he was fine like that, and that hurt almost more than any look before. But in the next moment, it was gone, just like a snap of his fingers, and he grabbed your wrist, tightly and unbudging even if you complained. “Try that again, Sweetheart, I dare you.”

Blinking a few times, you couldn’t decide what was scarier; seeing him for the first time up close, face only inches from yours and without the mask, which usually gave some more distance between you two, or having him threaten you. Kiyoomi never talked more than a few words with you at a time, nor did he show any interest in anything you did. “Slap my hand away again, and I will make sure you can’t use it for a long time, you understand? Don’t you know by now who you belong to?”

His questions were so clear, yet in your head, they made no sense. Who did you belong to? Who was it?

“Y-You?” you eventually muttered. “Do I belong to you?”

A question as stupid as it sounded, and yet, it eased Kiyoomi’s rage, it seemed. “That’s right,” he confirmed. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine ever since we met for the first time, don’t ever forget that. I am the only one that is allowed to touch you and no one else. Especially no sleazy bastards like Atsumu.”

“Kiyoomi...”

“Undress,” he interrupted you. “I have to clean you.”

Hesitating, you gripped your own clothes. Never before had you heard him talk like that, especially not about you. You never even believed he could have those thoughts about you, and after being unloved for so long, they felt like bandaids to your wounds. Mind you, not strong bandaids, no. They didn’t even manage to heal you partially, but who were you to complain. Because, what Kiyoomi said...

“Okay,” you whispered, slowly stripping out of your clothes. “I’m sorry... Omi.”

You were stretching your luck, but you were so close to tears as he placed his hand on top of your head. It wasn’t like Atsumu’s. It wasn’t gentle, and it didn’t fill your core with happiness. No, it pressed you down, making you lower your head and feel so insignificant compared to its greatness. But it was Kiyoomi’s. The person you wanted to be loved and caressed by the most.

“It’s okay,” he sighed, and for once, his voice sounded almost gentle and forgiving after you did something. His hand stayed as his free one helped you get out of your clothes, and laying your own hand on top of his, you felt his warmth for the first time, no glove separating you two.

And to this day, you still remember wondering if what Kiyoomi said meant that he loved you too.

Even if that meant you were living in the worst kind of relationship possible.

[You can find the prompt list here]

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swbumblebee · 3 years

Text

Plo Koon entered the rooms he knew almost as well as his own and allowed the serene Force presence he’d been projecting hard to fall away, with a sigh he felt down to his very bones.

It was Dhikraa; the Jedi day of mourning. Of course, each departed friend, comrade or sibling received their own funeral, and were mourned and missed dearly by those they left behind. But on this day, one day each year, time was made to acknowledge and remember all those they had lost, to embrace the grief for a short while and to take a moment to be grateful for all they given to their brothers and sisters and to the Galaxy.

It had been a long day. He couldn’t imagine how Mace was feeling. As Master of the order the expectations on a day such as this were high; His presence was expected at every ceremony and gathering, at all the different species-specific rituals and the various meditation sessions.

Plo was sure his friend would much rather have hidden in these very rooms, with a few nice bottles of something expensive and the privacy to let his shields slip, just a little. Force knew that’s all Plo wanted to do.

Sure enough, the Korun Master was sitting quietly in the dimly lit room, on a cushion on the floor. His back resting against the sofa and eyes still closed, despite Plo’s presence.

He knew better than to ask if he was alright. Simply making his way to the kitchen Plo exchanged his mask for one that allowed him to drink and took his time pouring two glasses of their favourite.

Neither said anything as Plo quietly sat down next to his friend and handed over the glass.

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la” he said softly after a moment, raising his own drink in a toast. Not gone, merely marching far away. It was something he’d picked up from the clones, that first time around. And whilst those they missed weren’t exactly dead (some hadn’t even been born) they were very, very far away.

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la” Mace repeated, his voice a little horse.

Wolffe, Ahsoka, Comet, Sinker, Adi, Nahdar, Qui-Gon…the list of those he missed was almost too long.

In a rare slip of shields from the man next to him, Plo received a vivid image of young Caleb Dume sitting on a familiar kitchen counter, skinny legs swinging in excitement. And then a blink-an-you’ll-miss-it flash of Depa, grinning as she braided the boy’s hair.

Plo put a hand on his friend’s knee, projecting understanding into the Force around them. It wasn’t only those who weren’t with them they missed, it was the people they were by the end. It was almost unspeakably difficult to be around people, yet still miss their older selves. People changed a lot in thirteen years.

Mace signed, visibly pulling himself together.

“Sorry, long day” he explained, taking a long sip of wine.

“I know” Plo shrugged. “Its over now.”

Mace nodded slowly.

“Have you seen the boys?” he asked, with an air of breeziness that didn’t fool Plo one bit. He shook his head.

“Obi-Wan is very private, he may have wanted to stay away from all the activities. And Anakin is very young” he dismissed.

His heart ached for the two. Both had lost so much this year.

Mace shook his head tiredly.

“Maybe we should-“

He froze mid-sentence, frowning in confusion, and Plo did the same.

There were two very familiar presences on the other side of the door.

Mace made a slightly delayed move towards it when it appeared to open of its own accord.

“Anakin you can’t just-!”

“Master Mace? Master Plo? It’s us!”

Both Masters blinked in confusion and stood up as an excitable ten-year-old barged in, swinging a bag of vegetables around as his slightly harried Master followed lugging a huge container that smelt like gravy.

“Apologies Masters, we- we hope you’re not too busy” the twenty-three-year-old Knight Kenobi managed to somehow keep hold of the vat whilst yanking his charge back by the tunics before he had the chance to run any further into the room.

Plo felt himself grinning.

“No of course not, you are both very welcome” he gestured to Anakin, who was let out of his Master’s grip to run in for his customary hug.

Mace hurried to take the large container out of Obi-Wan’s hands

“Obi-Wan Kenobi did you hack my door?” he asked in mock outrage.

The serious young Knight shook his head.

“I did not.”

Mace’s eyebrows rose skeptically.

“I did!” Anakin chirped happily from where he was depositing the vegetables on the kitchen side. Plo could almost feel Obi-Wan’s urge to facepalm and chuckled.

“Really Masters, if you are busy we can come back another time” Obi-Wan looked at them unsurely, a slight hint of trepidation in his face.

Plo opened his mouth to reply when he was beaten to it.

“Of course not Obi-Wan”

Plo struggled to keep the surprise off his face when Mace actually patted the young man on the back as he led them into the kitchen. The container floating cheekily next to them, to Obi-Wan’s clear amusement.

“What have you brought with you?” he asked conversationally. Plo hung back a little, content to watch the all-too-rare appearance of Mace Windu; Grandmaster. Caleb would be a lucky boy indeed in a few years.

Anakin was already laying out the various root veg on the side, carefully getting them in order and looking around at the various tools hanging on the walls of the tiny kitchen. Obi-Wan caught his wrist with lightening quick reflexes as the boy reached for a carving knife.

“We thought you might like some stew” the Knight explained as if nothing had happened. He looked at the huge vat that Mace had placed on the counter (still with a firm hold on the pouting child’s arm) and gave the Masters a wry smile. “Bant was kind enough to make it for us and well…there’s rather a lot.”

Mace smiled, a genuine happy smile Plo saw all too rarely, and he felt a bubble of happiness in his own chest.

“Yeah there’s loads, and todays like, a really…” Anakin paused and glanced at his Master “significant day” he finished, clearly concentrating on his words “and we just thought maybe you miss Master Qui-Gon too. And your own Masters” he added hurriedly “and maybe we could be together and like, help each other miss…him” the boy was flushing a little by the end of his sentence, clearly embarrassed by the halting explanation.

Plo glanced towards Obi-Wan, feeling durasteel shields locking down over a turbulent Force presence as the young man swallowed subtly and looked away, focussing intently on the vegetables.

“That sounds very wise Anakin” Plo commended softly, nodding encouragingly.

“I couldn’t have put it better myself, Padawan” Mace joined in approvingly.

Obi-Wan offered them a rather shaky smile as he felt both of them reach out with fondness in the Force, and to Plo’s immense pleasure, began reaching back ever so carefully.

Finally! He could’ve cheered at the shy but definite response.

Mace clapped his hands together, breaking the moment.

“Well, stew sounds excellent. Anakin why don’t you set the table and then run and fetch Master Plo’s other mask” he instructed “Plo if you could get the pudding out of the freezing unit we’ll start defrosting it, and I will supervise the chef.” He paused. “And get the emergency teams on standby.”

“Yes Master Mace!”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I have prepared many a meal with no injuries or property damage!”

“Fibbing is not the Jedi way, young Kenobi.”

Plo felt as if he’d had a heavy robe removed from his shoulders, a lightness had entered the dark rooms. He stood back and allowed himself to bask in the suddenly gloriously chaotic atmosphere, banishing all other thoughts as he ruffled Anakin’s hair as the child dashed back and forth creating a centrepiece out of all manner of things.

“Master Mace can I put this candle on the table?”

“What are you doing? It’s this in first”

“What? No I’m sure it’s- Master Plo which goes first?”

“Plo would you grab the pudding?”

---

It was, of course, important to keep those who were marching far away in their thoughts. To remember the lessons they left and to look forward to a time when they would meet again. And undeniably, they had all lost a lot. But as he looked around the now crowded, noisy, messy flat, Plo was nothing but infinitely grateful for everything they had right here, in this moment.

#Space Dads Go Time Travelling #plo koon #mace windu #Anakin Skywalker #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Bby anakin #jedi family #fluff #Obi-Wan finally accepting his new Dads

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sexysilverstrider · 3 years

Text

Burning Ambition (Teppeilumi)

Everything was dark.

Stench of spit and blood filled the room. His vision was terrible blur, he could only make out faded images of the ceiling above. A gulp was attempted. A painful cringe was obtained. Breathing grew harsher, weaker. Heartbeat became slower, quieter.

How amusing.

As one lone figure lay breathless on the cot, a sudden smoke of black and deep red loomed next to him.

Huh, was all the smoke hummed. Two slits formed on the entity, colours a demonic crimson. It witnessed the pitiful being. The other patients around it were fighting for their lives as well, completely unaware of the existence that had solidified next to the aging soldier.

It had no mouth, yet a smile formed inside the flickering smoke.

The poor soldier was on his last seconds. Once he drew out his fifth breath, all that would be left was a disgusting corpse.

One breath.

You are nothing but a pitiful mortal… A silent echo whirred into the soldier’s ears. The shadow hovered closer, looking down at the dying man.

Two breaths.

You lack motivation. The two slits widened, crazed as it glared at him. You lack perseverance. And for that, you do not deserve my attention. The darker line below the slits shook, cracked to what one could guess was an eerie smile.

Three breaths.

However, It’s ‘smile’ widened, you attract the traveler’s interest. The shadow tilted slightly. The man wheezed weakly.

Four breaths.

And I—The shadow reached out for his right hand—am interested in the traveler.

Five—

----------

This couldn’t be possible.

“O-Oi!” Paimoun shouted, body floating as fast as it can to catch up. “Wait—Wait up!” she wheezed, one tiny hand reaching for her fast friend. And yet Lumine didn’t hear her. She couldn’t. For her mind was wholly clouded by the shocking news that was brought up by Gorou.

“Her Excellency saw it with her own eyes and even did a full check-up on him.” Gorou’s words shrilled clear like a siren. “She even used her healing abilities to ensure that…you know…he’s not an undead or possessed.” His statement only made her run faster and faster.

Minutes felt eternal, and when Lumine finally arrived at the headquarters in Sangonomiya, she wasted no time and slammed the doors open.

The scene she made caused shock and confusion to both soldiers and locals alike. All eyes were on her, but a pair of dazzling golden starlight were on the man at the far end of the headquarters.

Him.

“Teppei!”

Once his name escaped her lips. Once those warm brown eyes met her own. Lumine could feel her legs give out and her body flashing forward.

Even with a gift bestowed upon him, never would he have anticipated the traveler’s tackle.

“Oof!” His body was thrown aback, yet awareness and newfound strength allowed him to stand his ground instead of falling on his butt. Arms spread open. Eyes widened immediately. Legs shaking still from the impact, Teppei quickly tried to straighten his back with someone hugging him for dear life.

“You’re alive…”

Her voice was muffled, breathing brushed against the material of his shirt. “I—what?” Bafflement still bursting in his mind, he tilted his head downwards. All he saw was a sight of golden blonde. All he smelled was a scent of warmth and wind.

“You’re alive!” Without warning, Lumine snapped her head upwards, meeting his shocked gaze. “You’re alive!” Statement now booming with baffled laughter, Lumine once more nuzzled her face into his chest.

The scent was tickling his nose. Burning red in his cheeks.

“I uh—” Realization kicked in; they were very, very close. “I-I am!” Words sputtered into a stutter, Teppei gave two thumbs up with arms still spread to the side.

Laughter bubbled within her chest, tickling his own.

He prayed that she didn’t hear his manic heartbeat.

“I’m so glad…”

The laughter was short-lived, however, as her voice lulled to a whisper. “Traveler?”

“So…so glad…” Her hug tightened. Voice now broken to a slow, woeful murmur. “I’m glad…” A strain scraped through gritted teeth. Golden eyes were squeezed shut to prevent a fearful sight.

A short gasp popped her lips to feel his embrace.

“I’m glad too…” His voice was a gentle whisper, meek and shaky. “Very, very glad…”

Cheek rested against his chest, Lumine pursed her lips and released a heavy sigh. “Mmm…” His arms felt hesitant around her petite body at first, but fear dissolved into relief once she felt his hug tighten.

“Aww!”

Relief, however, exploded into wild embarrassment once they realized they weren’t alone.

Immediately both broke their hug, faces now flushed red and hearts thumping wildly against their ribcages. A pair of golden and brown targeted towards the two people standing before them. One had his face covered and body shaking in silent amusement. The other had her hands clapped and positioned adorably next to her cheek.

“I’m so happy to see that smile back on your face, traveler!” Kokomi gleamed, her smile sincere yet laced with a hint of mirth. Gorou still had his face covered, though it seemed that his fit of giggles had ceased—for now.

Ah, what a fool she made herself to be.

“W-Well,” Trying her best to dig out of her hole she had made, Lumine straightened her posture and cocked her head upwards. “Why wouldn’t I be? To know that my friend is alive is more than enough to make me—”

“How dare you left Paimon at the back!”

“Ack!”

Alas, before Lumine could save face, she wasn’t able to realize and stop Paimon from crashing into her.

----------

In all honesty, Teppei still thought that he had died and gone to heaven.

“It’s…real.” Tap, tap. One finger gently tapped onto the glass of the Vision case. A simmering shape of fire burned brilliantly inside the object. The longer he held it, the more he could feel warmth sipping into his body. One hand holding the Vision, he flipped his other hand left and right.

There were no wrinkles. No drained colours of deathly blue. The same warmth could be felt into his palm. The same pulse could be felt inside his veins.

“Still reeling it in?”

Her voice was a brilliant beacon that lit him up. “Uh—yeah!” The answer stuttered sheepishly, Teppei looked at the traveler. Her smile was ever present. Her eyes gleamed gloriously like stars that he often basked in awe.

Those stars now shined closely to him.

“I just…” It’s been an hour since their reunion. After witnessing a scolding from Paimon to Lumine and apologizing endlessly to Lady Kokomi and General Gorou, both he and the traveler decided to rest by the lake near the headquarters. Peace wasn’t an option yet, however, as the tiny, floating being started shooting endless questions that he still found no answers to.

“You have a Vision now!? You’re a Pyro user?! Holy moly you can control fire! You got blessed by the Gods! How? When? And you look like you’re back to your real age! You’re no longer a withering, dying old man!”

It was truthfully amazing how Lumine handled Paimon on a daily basis.

After trying his best to give an explanation that might work, Paimon finally reached an understanding and let him breathe.

That, or she was hungry which made her fly off to the kitchen to recharge herself for more questions later.

Either way, Teppei was grateful for the silence.

Now all that’s left were him and the traveler. And while he knew she had just as many questions as her small friend, he was just glad that she allowed him to recollect his thoughts first.

It had been a good 20 minutes. Reality still hadn’t set in.

“This is mine…right?” Once again he looked at her, eyes clouded in hope and fear. Will it disappear? Am I actually dreaming or dead and this is just my mind giving me one last mercy? These questions bounced in his mind from the moment he woke up from the agonizing slumber. “It’s—I’m not holding someone’s missing Vision, right…?”

“Teppei.”

His body shivered briefly to hear such a gentle tone.

Pupils dilated to see her hand, small yet callous, cupping his left hand. Quickly he looked at her again, not realizing that he had dropped his gaze back at the Pyro Vision.

Her smile was radiant as the sun.

“That is yours.” Reassurance sang melodiously into his ears. Her fingers curled his own, cupping the warm Vision closer. “You have a Vision.” Distance became a mere hindrance to her, so Lumine scooted closer. It was then that she saw his hair, dark as the day she first met him. His cheeks were rosy. His eyes shined brightly. No wrinkles cursed his skin. No fades of pale blue scrapped his face.

He looked back to how he was before. Better even.

Giddiness bubbled within her again. Though caution and confusion loomed inside her brain at the possible impossible, Lumine decided to gulp those fears down first and rejoiced at his living.

Living. Alive.

“You’ve received favours from the Gods.”

It took a while for Teppei to get used to his new powers.

While those words stung her tongue, clawed through her throat, what matters to her right now was that he was alive.

----------

One couldn’t hone it so magnificently in a span of a day after receiving a Vision. Though Lumine wouldn’t know; she technically never gotten one.

But as a month rolled by, and after rejoicing with his friends and teammates, Teppei easily bounced back as Captain of Herring I. Excitement fuelled his veins once he finally got the chance to wear his new uniform. A small logo in shape of a herring was stitched at the back, bare and open so proudly for everyone to see. His teammates now somewhat revered him as a miracle who came back from the jaws of death. And while a part of him felt bashful and slightly proud of the statement, Teppei knew he couldn’t gloat—at least, not too much.

This was a gift by the Gods, after all. He was grateful. Truly. Whether or not the Vision he received granted him what was once stolen by the Delusion, Teppei knew this was something that shouldn’t be taken so lightly. Or rudely.

A few more weeks flew by, and as a Vision bearer, he was now given a special task to train and hone his powers. And while that didn’t seem like a problem—in fact, Teppei was more than excited to train with General Gorou and Kazuha—he did feel the nerves kicking in when Lumine volunteered to join in the practice as well.

“Alright!” Her right hand reached forward; immediately, her sword appeared seemingly out of nothing. “Show me what you got, partner!”

Ba-dump!

He really needed to have a talk with his heart later about the traveler calling him that.

“Right!” Enthusiasm and anxiety spiralled together, Teppei hovered hands close to each other. Slowly, he tried to manifest the weapon into his hands. Apparently, according to General Gorou, Vision bearers were able to dissolve their weapons with their powers, enabling an easy access to it especially when they’re in a pinch. When Teppei heard of this fun fact, he was over the moon; what a very coincidentally accessible way!

However, it was easier said than done.

It took many, many, many tries. And finally, after a…few failed attempts, he was able to conjure up his lance.

It took a few seconds—better than a few minutes, Teppei figured—the weapon finally materialized in his hands. “Got it!” Like a puppy, he beamed. Flickers of flame swerved around the lane, yet Teppei felt no pain.

If anything, he felt elated.

Never one to give up or step down, he concentrated again. This time, patience and practice showed its results as ribbons of fire wrapped around the lance. They decorated every so prettily, tickling his arm. Careful as to not position his lance near anyone besides his opponent, he posed a battle stance.

“Ready when you are—” Brown eyes stared at her. His battle posture ready. His heartbeat sang madly. “—partner!”

----------

Sometimes, he needed to remind himself that his own flames couldn’t technically hurt him.

It was amazing. Jaw-dropping. Stunning even that he could stare at it for days. The tiny flicker of flames danced on his palms, hypnotizing him with such a sight. He curled one finger. Then another and another. His fingers went thru the fire. It gave such a tickling warmth, soothing both his palms and heart.

“Heh…” A quiet chuckle peeped through smiling lips. Sitting alone by the lake, he slowly curled his fists, extinguishing the flames within. It tickled, he thought. Once again, he opened his hands, revealing clear skin that bore flesh, not bones.

His heartbeat raced. Excitement. Fear. All whirled in his mind. Silently, he took a deep breath, then exhaled carefully as if relishing on each breath that coursed through his throat.

He was alive. Living.

Everything could change in a blink.

Bringing that reminder close to his heart, Teppei nodded once. A new resolution formed firm. Stronger. Clearer. If this truly was a gift by the Gods. If this was truly a test he needed to fulfil and succeed, then he must carry on.

Yes. One fist raised in the air. A smile curled confidently under the shine of the moonlight. I can do this!

As one man basked on his goal, one woman stood from afar, hiding behind a tree and gazing at him with eyes a woeful glow and lips a tight purse.

“Gift by the Gods.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine. Burned fire in her chest.

Gratitude burst brightly every time she saw him. But Lumine knew: not everything came without a price.

The Archons she had met so far were nice, welcoming—although Ei had a rough start when they first met, both were slowly moving forward together to fix the future. But that was the thing that concerned Lumine the most.

Not everyone would be sensible and sweet like Venti and Zhongli. And even with them, after having met Dainsleif and the unfortunate reunion with her dear brother, Lumine had to keep her guard up.

He looked so happy. So alive.

Ba-dump…

One hand placed where her heart ached.

----------

Some Vision bearers honed their powers until they were able to conjure up new skills. Some were able to form powerful shields. Some were able to heal and cure. Some even had the power to freeze even the mightiest of hilichurl chieftains.

In Teppei’s case, he would soon find out that skills were sometimes found or created when one was put in a desperate situation.

“Watch out!”

All happened too fast. The moment he saw a samurai plunging his way towards her, Teppei could feel the wind and rain against his face. He saw Lumine turning around to face the enemy. He saw Lumine swinging her sword in hopes that it slices the samurai before his own could slice her.

While he was not as fast as the traveler, he was quick enough to reach out for her.

Quickly he tugged her left arm. Taken aback by the sudden force, Lumine felt her body being pulled backwards. Everything happened in mere blinks. Panic sinking in, Teppei stomped one foot forward—

FWOOM!

CLANG! CRASH!!

A burst of fire shaped around them. The ringing clash of steel against solid fire reverberated amidst the heavy rain.

The impact clearly took the samurai by surprise. The newly-formed shield ironically took Teppei’s and Lumine;s breaths away.

Golden met brown. Stupor froze their body still. The shield was still active, still enveloped around them like a dome of flames. Lumine gawked at the tall captain, awe and bewilderment being her method of communication. It seemed Teppei understood her language, for both now shared their speechless conversation under the brilliant dome.

“Um…” he gulped. “You alright?”

She blinked once. Twice. “Yeah!” Laughter burst out amidst the stupor. “I’m fine!” One to easily register reality quickly around her, Lumine readied her battle stance again. The shield around them burned brighter. As eyes inspected the area around her, she realized that the same samurai that attacked just now started to stagger and stumble. His sword sheathed into the ground. Though donned in a helmet, Lumine could see him crouch slightly as if he was trying to catch his breath.

He didn’t get hit by anything else after that. And the impact wasn’t as severe. If Lumine remembered correctly, the samurai only crashed against Teppei’s shield—

Another realization jolted in. And her guess was swiftly proven correct as she felt an aura of strength pumping into her veins.

It would seem Teppei would be excited to learn his newfound ability.

For now, as both captains locked eyes and nodded, Lumine decided to break the great news later after they finished this battle.

----------

Sangonomiya was truly a breath-taking place.

Giant shells that stood proudly in the center of the land. Waterfalls that shined and gleamed every time it hit the surface. Even the lake was a like a beautiful mirror, revealing clear images of those who look upon it.

However, as beautiful as the place was, it did have one flaw when it came to nightly weather.

Maybe Ei was feeling at peace after their little tour, which would explain the soothing wind that blew past her. And while Lumine was happy to know that that might be case, unfortunately, her body would say otherwise.

“Hey there, traveler!”

Her head turned at the voice. Golden eyes caught the sight of the lone soldier who kept dancing in her mind lately. “Hi,” was her reply, short and sweet, yet enough to ring a bell of joy at his presence.

Her bliss was a reflection to his.

“May I join in?” His directed his hand at the empty spot next to her. A giggle was heard. A shaken head was seen. Smile curling swirls at the corners, Teppei took a seat on the bench. “Where’s your flying friend?”

“Sleeping.” Another short reply, but not curt. Her head turned to one of the tents in the camp. “She had a big dinner so decided to call it a night.”

“I see.” Brown eyes glanced at the tent, then back at her. “Why are you still up, though?” Curiosity led him to the question, but he didn’t realize how rude he might have sounded before he could stop himself. Teppei then flustered to see her eyes widen, probably offended, probably hurt that he thought she was some sort of child.

“W-Wait, no I mean—” Both hands raised and waved. “I was just curious since we kinda had a long day and—”

Laughter ceased him from making a further fool of himself.

“It’s okay, Teppei.” One hand that stayed near her mouth slowly lowered down to her lap. “I understand. I just don’t feel sleepy yet.” The smile on her face grew genuine. It always seemed to be whenever he was around. “I just want to enjoy the night a little longer. I have a lot of energy compared to Paimon, anyways.”

The joke got through him. A laughter was given as a response.

“If she heard you, she would be mad.”

“Which is why I’m saying it to you.”

How light her chest felt whenever she talked to him.

The conversation came smoothly. Teppei talked about his daily task as captain. Lumine responded with topics of her commissions and part-time role as captain as well. While the matter with Raiden Shogun had been resolved, there were still some internal conflicts that required attention. Lumine knew it would take some time to figure out a way to get to Sumeru, so she figured she might as well stay in Inazuma for a while. Who knows? Maybe she would find more information about her brother—

“Achoo!”

“Traveler?”

A sneeze broke their conversation and her thoughts. “O-Oh,” she sniffed, “sorry. It just gets a bit cold in Sangonomiya that I kinda forgot to bring a coat.” Hands rubbed her prickling arms. Yet she didn’t feel like getting up. Not now. Lumine enjoyed talking to Teppei. The stress in Inazuma sometimes got to a point where it was unbearable, and the Herring I captain was one of the people who was able to lighten the burden in her chest.

It seemed Teppei had the same idea about her as well.

“Oh…” Thoughts whirled in his mind. Suddenly, an idea flickered in seconds. “I can go get a coat for you if you like! Don’t want my partner to be sick now, huh.” He laughed, cheerful and honest. Hands pressed on the bench, he started to get up. “I’ll be right back—”

“Wait.”

His body froze at the feel of her hand around his fingers.

Brown and gold looked at their hands. Brown and gold then looked at each other.

“Ah!”

In unison, they gasped. Lumine immediately retracted her hand while Teppei dumbly plopped himself back onto the bench.

“You don’t have to!” Heat kissed her cheeks as their roles were now reversed. “I’m not that cold. And besides, ever since you started sitting down, it actually feels warmer—”

Foolish was an act that bounced back between the two.

Realization kicked in. Fast. It was obvious in the blown pupils of his eyes. It was clear in the beautiful burst of red in her face.

Sadly, Teppei was quite quick to catch up on things too. “R-Really?”

Slim fingers curled slowly. Hands were still raised near eye-level. “Well…” Ah fuck it, she thought. “Really.” She figured there was no harm in being honest. Maybe some shame. “Maybe it’s because of your Vision, but you feel a bit…warmer than normal people.” Thankfully, she had seen and faced this sort of phenomenon with Amber and Xiangling. Although she technically had never hugged Diluc, the man did once offer her his jacket. And wearing it felt warm and toasty, so that was good enough research for her.

His short laughter brought her attention back to him.

“I do feel warmer than usual ever since I woke up from that long sleep.” A sheepish reply accompanied the growing red in his cheeks. “But I make sure this time that it wasn’t anything dangerous. Her Excellency said that it’s normal for a Pyro user like me to have some extra body heat.” White teeth gleamed beneath the moon’s glow. “You can say that I’m like a walking heater.”

More laughter joined in, but it was one-sided this time.

“Then…may I sit closer?”

The laughter died down immediately, bafflingly.

He couldn’t believe what she said. She couldn’t believe what she said.

“If that’s alright with you…?” The question was timid, sheepish, bursting with shame. Lumine was ready to bolt off the bench and excuse herself for the night. Why would she ask him that, she wondered? The man was of pure heart ever since she met him. He was an honest friend, an enthusiastic one at that. Like most of the people she had met, Teppei’s intentions were true and genuine which became the very reason she was getting close to him—

“I…don’t mind.”

The wild tornado of feelings in her mind died down once she heard his reply.

Those golden eyes were no match for the stars above. “Really?”

Excitement was real in her tone. The sight of pure joy made his heart burst anew. “Really…” He sounded sheepish, bashful, yearning. One breath. Maybe two. Once he reassured himself that he was calm and collected, Teppei scooted closer. “It’s the least I can do for my partner.”

She always hated how her heart cracked to hear that term.

Sorrow was short-lived, hidden behind layers and layers of relief that she practiced over the centuries. “Thank you.”

He always loved how his heart skipped a beat to see her smile.

Slowly, the distance between then shrunk. Only an inch teased between their pinkie fingers. In seconds, Lumine could feel the warmth—his warmth. It truly felt soothing. Calming. Yet it also gave her a tiny surge of strength that tickled her stomach. She loved it. She adored it.

She only wished she had more time to cherish it.

“Thank you, Teppei…” Her voice mellowed. “For showing me around the Resistance. For helping me out in battles.” Silence was his response. A welcome for her to say further. “For pushing me to end this terrible Vision Hunt Decree.”

His left fingers clenched rigidly next to her.

“For coming back alive and well…” Her voice started to get slower. “For inspiring me…” Her eyes started to get heavier. “For cheering me up when I feel…down…” Her head bobbed forward. “For…” A yawn broke out, “being there…”

Body acting out of reflex, Lumine leaned her head against his left arm.

Her actions stunned him back to reality. As she talked to him—as if she was talking to herself—Teppei felt hypnotized. Brown eyes were fixed on her like trance. Healthy heartbeat skipped at the sound of her melodious voice. It wasn’t until he felt her body so close to him that Teppei almost jumped with face full of red.

Silence hummed around them.

The captain looked at her, entranced and bewitched by such a sight. “That’s a lot of thanks, partner…” Voice a shy murmur, he brought his free hand up to his face. A long sigh escaped his lungs. His right hand remained on half of his face as he stared forward.

His whole body felt as if he was burning.

Brown eyes glanced at the sleeping traveler next to him.

But honestly, His left fingers twitched, stretched until his hand held her right hand, it doesn’t feel bad.

The mad drumming of his heart echoed in his ears. The soothing sound of her voice kissed heat in his cheeks and neck.

It doesn’t feel bad at all.

“Sweet dreams, Lumine…” His left hand gently squeezed her right hand. His face slowly leaned closer to her to memorize every detail, to cherish every moment he had with this fated encounter.

Ah, he thought, smile soft and shaky, I’m in trouble…

END

#Teppei #Lumine #Genshin Impact #Teppeilumi #i call this 4k words of denial #i havent written this much in a while LMAO #what denial can do to a bicc #just coz of an npc.................smh #fafar writes

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blackirisposts · 3 years

Text

Walking Upon the Cliffs

Fueled with pain, longing, and wine (always a good combination) I rise from depths of fabric and trauma and present to you all a small token of feels and thought. *************

Pairing: Loki x Reader (No references to gender for Reader)

Word Count: 1233

Read on AO3 HERE

Warnings and Notes: Trigger warning for some unalive feels and illusions to doing so. This is a bit dark and sad but it ends with the soft fluff that I know a lot of you except and enjoy from me.

Needless to say, things have been *hard* in many more ways than I can count, but, who’da thunk it. My main man Loki, pulls through in the end to bring you this sad and sweet little flick-let thingy-ma-bob.

Please be kind to yourself and others and, of course, enjoy.

p.s.- hjarta, means heart unless I’ve fucked that up royally, in which case, I apologize.

*************

You wander aimlessly through the night, like many a night before. Tonight, you go by foot, leaving your trusty steed at home, not wishing to wake him in the chill of the autumn moon.

Your feet continue, your mind gloriously numb for once. The chill of the changing seasons hangs in the air, taking the edge of your senses away. It bites at your nose and cheeks, unconsciously you wrap his scarf around you tighter, burrowing into its warmth. Your foot falls stagger as you imagine his smell on the cloth. It’s been gone for longer than you care to admit, but if you breathe deeply enough, maybe, just maybe….

Time passes. Or maybe it doesn’t but you find your way regardless. There’s worn path in thick, clumping grass now. Your feet follow each other while leaving you in a dream like trance.

You’re up to the cliff face. The one where you saw him last.

“I miss you.” You exhale into the wind that stunts your pace as it picks up the edge of your cloak. “I miss you, and there’s no way for you to know.”

You move forward, the toes of your boots teasing the edge, the line of safety blurred with your tears. The urge to jump, dive, fall into the icy depth below is the most real thing you’ve felt in what feels like an age. Your feet feel weighted of iron and lead, the muscles of your legs unmoving and unwilling. The idea falls for you, from you, with the breeze, stinging your eyes as you shake your head.

“There’s too much room.” You state with a frown. “It’s not the silence. The lack of your voice, your laugh, your steps. The scent of your clothes after a long day’s journey. No. There’s too much room at home, without you. That hurts most of all.’

“It’s started getting cooler. The sunlight is less and less each day. And that makes me miss you more. I want to curl up with you, by the hearth, or in our bed. Touch you face with my fingertips, smiling and knowing you’re back and here to stay. I want to kiss you and not have to pull away for you to leave again, but only when our lungs burn and demand oxygen. I want to reach out in the dead of night and feel the steady heat from your side of the bed. Be lulled to sleep by its comfort. I want to feel the curl of your arm around my waist, the brush of your lips against my skin; both of us half asleep and at complete ease.”

Tears cascade down your cheeks, silenced by the upturned wind.

“I miss you, love. I miss you so much.”

A sob rips from your chest, catching in your throat. Frigid fingers curl into loose fists, too cold to close properly, gloves left at home in your haste-less grief.

“I miss you.” You try to shout. After a deep breath, it comes out as a strained whisper.

Return to me. You wish to say in a yell, a shout, anything loud enough so that the rest of the world will join you in your tears, your sorrow, to be felt by all for but a moment.

The reality of your broken voice on the air only floats mourning syllables of longing indistinguishably onto the rocks of the shore below.

Your eyes blur, stinging with the renewed salt of your tears.

Time has passed again, you note, as your eyes blink you slowly back to the present. The stars have moved in their ghostly haunt of the night sky. The first of the sun’s rays begin to threaten the calm you’ve finally found in this abandoned piece of the world; colors begin to stir and stretch about you.

A hand eases onto your shoulder, squeezing gently as you mentally shun the contact.

“I’m not going. I can’t. Not without, not without—” Your voice gives out, your strength finally leaving you. Your legs buckle and arms wrap around you, holding you to a solid form.

They shush you, as you sob: tears and half cries carried off on the wind.

“I can’t.” you finally form words. It becomes your chant, an odd comfort. “I can’t. I can’t.”

The breeze picks up again, becoming strong in its own right. On it you smell the turn of the tide, the salt, the seaweed, the sea life along the beach…. And, and something more. A distant memory. It rushes back to you. Warmth. Cinnamon. Birch… with an edge that’s dark, burnt, you’d know it anywhere.

With eyes closed tight, your hands drift to the ones that hold you, squeezing tentatively, afraid that in your fatigue they will slip away and be just a dream like so many that have haunted you for so many uncountable nights.

“Please, be real.” You whisper. “Please, please be here. Be real.”

‘Darling.’ You hear, or possibly imagine. You’ve imagined it so many times. His warmth, his voice, the comfort and love that drip from it for only you.

With a shudder that doesn’t come from you, you hear it again.

“Darling.” A pause, a heartbeat, a life time. “Please, open your eyes. Let me see you.”

You turn, eyes fluttering open, fingers clawing, clinging to the leather and cloth in front of you. “You.”

“I’m here, my hjarta, I’m here.”

“You’re, you’re—”

“Very, very real, love.” His smile goes to his eyes, the corners crinkling as his thumbs wipe away tear trails from your cheeks. “Very, very much missing you.”

“Where, will, how, would you—you’ll stay?”

“For you, with you. Forever, dove.”

His wraps his arms and cloak around you, grounding you and warming you a fraction. He presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring words of sweetness, of kindness, of how he’s missed you, longed for you.

“Not a day has gone by where my heart has not broken for not being at your side.” He whispers into your hair line.

He holds you until the sun is shining, its golden rays peak and dance behind clouds to gleam off the sea. The world feels more vivid in his embrace. His cold fingers gently hook under your chin, drawing your face to his.

“Kiss me, kiss me and let today mark the beginning of our time uninterrupted. For not a day shall go by where you do not walk by my side. Not a day, where I cannot ease your pains, make you smile that delightful grin I adore above all else. I’ve been a fool to be away for so long. I love you, ardently so. Please, still be mine.”

Tears renew themselves in your eyes and threaten to fall at his words as your head nods. “A fool indeed, Loki, beloved son of Laufey, forever my fool. I love you.”

“I love you” it comes a laugh and a cry. His lips ghost along yours, his voice a strained whisper, “I love you, don’t ever stop telling me that, I love you my dear.”

Dawn’s light envelops your entwined forms on the cliffs edge as his scared lips touch yours, softly at first, the brush feeling as it did the first time. Moving more fervently, you press into each other, the ache of time apart palatable as tongues touch, and sighs of stolen breaths paint the morning breeze.

*************

p.s. ten points for **insert house of your choosing here** if you also said “I’d know him anywhere.” Cuz I cannot not have that float in my head at those words.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki fan fiction #loki fic #loki x gn!reader #loki x gender neutral reader #Loki x male reader #Loki x female reader #no spoilers #this does as it will much like Loki

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fanficsrusz · 4 years

Text

POWER - Henry Cavill Smut

Warnings: Smut.

Pairing: Y/n x Henry cavill

Summary: Y/n's plan to seduce Henry backfires but in a wondrous way.

Word Cound: 7.7k

A/N: Its been a while since I've posted anything and I feel a little nervous 😅. However I've missed the thrill of creating a world all of my own. I also apologise for any spelling/grammatical mistakes. I havent edited anything for a long time so yeahhh.

Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed ❤️

"You're drunk"

The accusation, issued through Henry's teeth, was an angered hiss and Henry's reaction was everything that Y/n could have wished for… And more.

Y/n forced a little hiccup, feeling it bubble its way through her body before it made its escape out of her mouth, and almost laughed at the thin set of lips across from her that stayed in a straight line.

He looked positively prim - just like he always did.

"No-" she defended, "-I'm happy". The correction came with a sly smile, her upper body leaning towards him across the bar, her inner amusement increasing as she watched his body stiffen in annoyance.

Henry was keeping a distance between their bodies, as if he thought her intoxication may be infectious.

The hold he quickly took to her waist was more of a brace rather than an intention as she swayed forward and then backwards.

"Don't you want me to be happy, Henry?"

Y/n pouted, tilting her head back and looking at him with what she hoped would be a sultry invitation. She laughed, a bold, wicked sound that drew a few glances from others in the bar. Henry stared stiffly over her head, swallowing the lump in his throat that had seemed to form as he grew more irritated with the woman's involuntary outbursts.

"For God's sake, Y/n, control yourself", he whispered tightly.

Was he embarrassed by her lack of inhibition? No. It was quite the opposite. He felt… lost. As if he had no idea how to act in the situation he had found himself in.

It was normal for him, the playboy, to taunt her with his fancy words, to distract her with his sinfully dark looks and honeyed phrases, but turn the tables and he wasn't quite so poised himself and Y/n felt a delicious thrill of power at the knowledge that she had him off balance.

She deliberately let herself go limp in his arms, and, when his grip relaxed in relief at the stability her body found, she quickly slipped under his guard, pressing the entirety of her body sinfully against him.

Her tactics immediately threatened to backfire as Henry's coldly rigid body seemed to be generating an incredible amount of heat and that in itself was enough for her to lose focus of her goal.

She rested her check against his chest and willed away her trembling response even as she measured his annoyance by the wildly uneven thump of his heart.

"You'll regret this tomorrow," he told her sternly, his hands tightening painfully on her waist.

"'Why in hell did you drink all that champagne? Do you want to make a total fool of yourself, jeopardise a deal with Dere-?"

"Rubbish. Derek thought I was as graceful as ever; he told me so," y/n said airily, thinking that it was too late to regret drinking at a business meeting with her boss and other potential clients.

Y/n moved steadily in his arms to prove it, brushing her breasts against his chest, hoping that the crushed velvet of her dress would hide the multitude of her sins that had seemed to accumulate quickly throughout the night and not to mention the past year that she had worked beside Henry, every single dirty thought she ever had about him portraying itself as nothing more than a red stain upon her cheeks and chest.

She had never been sinful before, always a dutiful daughter, just as she had later been a faithful business partner to Henry but there was only so much a woman could take before she had to take drastic measures. Now she was neither a daughter nor a business partner. She was Y/n Y/l/n. Herself. A woman before anything else and more specifically a woman with needs.

"You're the only one who thought I was wrong for declining the partnership" , she drawled mockingly, too caught up in her reckless self-absorption to monitor his surfacing awareness. "Chill out, Henry. If you can't fix it with a snap of your fingers, you might as well lie back and enjoy the open bar…"

The thud of his heart had settled down to a swift, arrhythmic beat that set up a sympathetic vibration throughout her body from her scalp to the soles of her restless feet.

There was a small pause as he manoeuvred her pliant body away from another couple that wanted to get to the bar. Then he tilted his head to look down at her.

"Chill out?" Amusement leaked through his iron control as he suppressed the grin he held in tight. " wow- I never thought I'd hear street-slang from that elegant, business-lady mouth of yours…".

For a second Y/n gulped, thinking she had lost all control of the situation that she had perfectly built up all evening but then Y/n moved dreamily against him, fully immersed in her ideal scenario.

She linked her arms round his back and arched her neck slightly so that she could see his expression.

"But I'm not a lady tonight, Henry, I'm a woman," she said huskily.

"Should I lie back and enjoy that too?" he enquired cynically.

That conjured up indecent images that for a moment left Y/n shocked, breathless even and if it wasn't for the distant sound of a glass breaking somewhere in the bar then she would have stayed in her trance like manner.

Her lips parted as she tried to say something sophisticated in response but she couldn't think of a thing and for a moment she feared that she had lost the edge. Y/n bit her lower lip and suddenly he had control over her again, his voice rough with threat, as he gave her a small shake.

"Behave yourself, Y/n. Stop being so fucking provocative. You should go home"

"I'm not ready to go home yet" she mewled, eyes darting over to the dance floor that served as a pick up ground.

Henry sighed, his eyes following her gaze

"One dance, that's all you get. Then I'm getting you out of here before you start leaping onto table-tops and doing the can-can!"

"What a killjoy you're turning out to be, Henry" with fresh fury, she suddenly spun out of his arms and danced freely for a few moments before cutting mischievously in on another couple. Soon Henry was glaring murderously over the shoulder of a blonde woman while Y/n languished in the sweaty grasp of a nervous young man who was very aware of the hovering blue-eyed menace.

When Henry cut back in a short time later, Y/n was relinquished with ill concealed relief.

"You're playing with fire, Y/n" , Henry warned, his firm hand taking hold of her again. This time he held her so captively close that she could feel the lines of his suit being imprinted on her velvet dress.

She had the feeling that if he had been able to shackle both her wrists behind her back without attracting attention he would. He wanted to cage her, tame her, but tonight, surrounded by the security of a crowd, she was determined to be untamable, just to see how far she could push him.

"Mmmm, I know, and I feel so gloriously toasty and warm," she murmured wickedly, waggling her eyebrows at a passing male.

Henry swore under his breath and pulled her flirtatious eyes away from any male that passed by capturing her gaze before she could perform some similar impropriety. He quickly brought his own hand to his mouth to mask his aggression in the pretence of courtesy. She had been right about the shackling.

"You're drunk", he repeated raggedly, more as if he was telling himself than her. She rather liked the hint of desperation that seeped into every word he spoke. It was almost as satisfying as having him grovel at her feet.

Y/n laughed, a sensuous 'cat-with-the-cream' look of satisfaction on her face as she widened her eyes and purred, "But not incapable, darling…".

She tamed a deliberate misstep as she spoke so that her leg slid caressingly between his thighs as they turned.

Henry almost stumbled as she lifted her knee, briefly applying the pivoting pressure of her thigh firmly to the juncture of his. Her provocation had an immediate effect and she drew back instantly, finally aware that her teasing had gone too far. But it was too late. Henry had reached the end of his tether.

"Fine -" he seethed, "-we'll do this the hard way then"

Five minutes later Y/n was belted roughly into the passenger-seat of her own car.

" I'm perfectly fit to drive, Henry" she raged at the man who slid angrily behind the steering wheel before inserting her keys into the ignition.

"I'm as sober as you are!"

" For your sake, I hope that's a lie, Y/n".

His voice was nothing but a growl and y/n felt the shiver that started in her groin slowly rise up through her spine.

"But if it is true then maybe you've done me a favour. If you were teasing me deliberately I don't have to feel guilty for what I'm about to do." his eyes stayed focused on whatever he was staring at, his fists curling tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned pale.

"Do?" Y/n asked faintly as the car sprang into motion with far more power than she ever managed to coax from under the unimpressive bonnet.

"Did you think I would calmly walk away like an obedient lap-dog when you got tired of your little game ?"

"I...I... didn't think-" she began to splutter.

"No? Just instinct, was it? Trap the beast, then rattle his cage until he howls? Wasn't that your goal?"

"Henry!"

He hadn't looked at her since they had got in the car, driving with a narrow-eyed concentration, but now he slipped a grim sideways glance at her shocked expression and what he saw there seemed to ease his ferocious tension but the wolfish twitch of his mouth wasn't reassuring

"You did, didn't you? You really thought I'd let you get away with it. You didn't think I'd have the guts to drag you kicking and screaming out of there"

Y/n swallowed the dry lump in her throat. She had definitely underestimated her victim and definitely forgot to plan this far ahead.

"'I wasn't kicking and screaming," she protested weakly, avoiding the obvious answers he wanted.

"Not on the outside maybe. But your innocent act never did cut any ice with me" Henry's eyes glanced over at Y/n

Y/n clenched her fists tightly, until her nails dug into the palm of her hand, but she barely noticed. The only thing she was really aware of, was the sound of her heart throbbing against the cage of her chest.

It wasn't until she looked up into the rear view mirror, that she noticed she had been biting her lip so much so that they were almost as red as the lipstick that had wiped off hours ago.

"Scared, Y/n?" Henry jeered softly as she swallowed again, this time audibly. "You should be." he said lowly

"What about your own car?" she began weakly, hoping that practicalities might prevail where argument hadn't.

"I'll pick it up tomorrow." Y/n went quiet. This fantasy was easier to plot when she didn't have to concentrate on parrying his verbal thrusts and she tried to calm her nervous actions with whatever had made her think that she could best him at his own game.

She wished she were drunk but all she could do was hope that the drive would cool down that scorched male pride. All she could do momentarily was create another plan.

When they would finally get back to her apartment building she would placate him, contrive to convince him that it had all been a silly mistake. For all his threatening manner, she knew instinctively that he wouldn't use violence to enforce his threats. He didn't have to... all he had to do to seduce her was to take her in his arms and then she would be at his mercy. But once she had bolted her door on him she would be safe from her own wicked urges.

He could rage and huff and puff all he liked but he wouldn't be able to get in. The irony was rather quaint. All the security locks that he had insisted she have installed on her doors and windows when he first found out she lived alone in a not so friendly neighbourhood would ensure that her virtue remained unassailable - well for tonight at least.

Y/n had almost convinced herself that she had already outwitted him when she noticed the unfamiliarity of their route.

"This isn't the way to my home!"

He ignored her. The moving light thrown by the passing street-lights illuminated his shadowed expression. It was a hard mask of satisfaction.

"Dammit, Henry, where are you taking me?"

"I told you. Home."

"This isn't where I live."

"I never said I would take you to your home. I simply said 'home'. It's not my fault that you assumed I meant your home."

Henry turned into a steep, dark, curving driveway that seemed to drop away directly into the deep black glitter of a Lake that Y/n didn't even know existed in the area.

Y/n's heart was in her mouth as the car swooped towards the water, but when they reached the lower curve into darkness, security lights suddenly flickered on and she saw the brick paved courtyard clearly for an instant before the car was swallowed by the lower level of the house.

The garage door closed automatically after them, and for a moment after Henry cut the engine, the only sound in the softly lit enclosed space was the faint ringing echo of the metal door. Y/n was irresistibly reminded of the metallic springing of a trap. One that she had baited herself into.

"Welcome home, Y/n." Henry leaned towards her and she flinched, but he was merely flicking open her seatbelt.

She couldn't see him smile but she could hear the amusement in his voice as he continued, "No, not here in the car. I'm not so crude as to take up your generous invitation without due ceremony and at least a few comforts."

Henry leaned even further, reaching across her to push open her door, this time dragging his arm deliberately against her rapidly rising breasts as he withdrew.

"Get out. I'd prefer to go inside" he purred dangerously, pointedly placing her car keys out of reach in the inside pocket of his jacket.

" but If you can't restrain your wild passion and don't mind a little discomfort I'm quite ready and willing to make love to you against the dashboard"

Y/n was up and out of the car with as much alacrity as her fumbling apprehension would allow. His mocking laugh as he followed suit had her searching for the door, but he was there before her, opening it with a flourish and a small bow.

" After you. "

All the way up the narrow, spotlight staircase, Y/n was aware of the movement of her hips and legs, the breathless difficulty in her chest and, most of all, the steady, inexorable masculine tread that stalked her.

The room at the top of the stairs was shrouded in darkness, relieved by vague glimmering white shapes that made her gasp.

"Afraid of ghosts, too, Y/n? What a timid little thing you're turning out to be…". The murmured words smoked across the small area of vulnerable skin between her shoulder-blades, exposed by the discreet scoop of her gown, whispering across her sensitised nerves. There was a faint click and the room sprang into light.

The white shapes were sheets, draped over bulky objects.

Even the floor was covered by a dark green sheet, and the reason was obvious. The walls were stripped and primed, but had not yet had their first coat.

They were in the kitchen, Y/n guessed from the positioning of the shrouded fittings. Scattered about were cans of paint and rolls of wallpaper, brushes soaking in paint and the odd ladder or two. The only ghosts here were those of the tradesmen.

Yet, Y/n's heart continued to flutter with a deliciously disconcerting fear, an excited apprehension.

Without a word Henry took her by the elbow and ushered her impatiently through several more similarly dust-shrouded rooms with the unswerving instinct of a guided missile, not bothering to turn on any more lights.

The place seemed huge, and as silent and brooding as the explosively primed man beside her.

"You-you're redecorating!" Y/n grabbed at the chance to divert him from his relentless intention. Honestly it surprised her that she had known him for so long and yet had never seen his home, he didn't even talk of it much.

Henry didn't answer and she fell quiet.

He let her resistance slow him but he didn't let his grip ease. He had already been taken by surprise once too often that night.

"Have you been feeling hunted, Y/n?" Her answer was in her uneasy sidelong look. He smiled secretively. "Now you know how I felt this evening: like the helpless prey to your brazen huntress…" Y/n flushed, her whole body heating at his words. She had been brazen, utterly so, and she had enjoyed it far too obviously to try to deny it now.

Henry let her dwell on her folly for a moment before he murmured, "The answer to your question is…" his slow smile drew out the suspense for a wickedly long second "...perhaps."

His eyelids drooped, not quite hiding the predatory gleam that smouldered in the darkness. He was still very, very angry and he wanted her to know it.

"Certainly it turned out to be very convenient for you…"

His free hand came up under her other elbow and he stepped around to face her, forcing her backwards and into the realisation that while he had held her enmeshed with his equivocating words he had been slowly backing her to the wall.

"I'm no one's convenience," she spat, determined not to see the effect his calculated menace was having on her already chaotic nervous system.

"You have to admit you qualify in one or two forms of the dictionary meaning, Y/n," he drawled, driven to foment her the way that she had tormented him. "You're certainly suitable for my purposes and needs and you're close by... but no, I don't suppose you could be considered "easy to use"...

The fear that had inhibited her flared into an open temper at his overt mockery.

"If you think I'll let you-" "-Challenging me, y/n?" he interrupted softly, and watched her hesitate as she realised the certain consequences of goading him from her very vulnerable position.

"Actually," he continued almost kindly, "it's a little late for second thoughts. You've led me this far with your little game. Now it's time to pay the piper…" He dipped his head and to her tingling shock bit her gently on the side of her satiny throat. She reared back, but there was nowhere to go, no escape that didn't involve going through that broad-shouldered, lean-hipped wall of male arrogance!

"led you! You're the one who practically kidnapped me" She was appalled to hear the breathy lightness in her words when she had meant them to be firm.

"Mmm. Exciting, isn't it?" He bit the other side of her throat. "Just think how thoroughly helpless you are right at this minute. You're in a strange house, while I know every nook and cranny. All the exits are deadlocked. Even if you ran, where would you run to? I'm stronger than you are. bigger, harder, faster. You can't get away, no matter how hard you try. I can do anything I want with you. And there's nothing you can do about it, except…"

" Except what?" The mouth skimming her throat was having as violent an effect as his taunting words, arousing the deeply buried desires that she had tried to deny.

" accept what you caused" She felt the curve of his lips against her smooth skin, heard the amusement in the sensuous rumble.

He was laughing at her.

He wasn't content with merely seducing her. No, he wanted to humiliate her, too.

Sudden panic struck and with a fierce surge of strength she shoved at his solid chest. To both their surprise, he staggered back, far enough for her to dart away. With a roaring curse he gave chase.

Y/n's heart hammered as she scuttled from the safety of one covered piece of furniture to the next. She froze, listening for the direction of his pursuit, but Henry had also stilled. He was out there somewhere, crouched and aware, listening, just as she was, waiting to pounce. Her skin prickled hotly and she could feel the blood pulsing heavily through her veins. Y/n shivered with a strangely febrile excitement. She peered around what appeared to be a small table and saw a graduation of the blackness - A doorway!,

Taking a deep breath, she took to a low crouch and ran for it. As she did so she felt a rush of air as close as a blow and a throaty growl. He had only just missed her! She couldn't help letting out a little scream as she abandoned stealth and bolted, darting breathlessly to the darkened room.

Henry was never far behind and at first she was grateful that he didn't switch on the lights, the better to find her, but as his taunting laughter infiltrated the night she realised that he was revelling in the chase...and so was she!

Her inner certainty that Henry would never physically hurt her, even in genuine rage, gave an added piquancy to the situation.

She had challenged him in the most clemental way possible and he was responding in a way that was as different and exciting as he was.

The panic which had precipitated her flight became a delicious terror as the teasing game of hide-and-seek continued.

Sexual tension flourished in the shrouded silence like a living thing. He was no longer in a hurry to catch her, whispering silky-voiced threats into the night that curled her toes and dampened her palms, describing in sensual detail what was going to happen when he found her.

It didn't take Y/n very long to break. When Henry suddenly went quiet her imagination ran riot. She pressed herself even more tightly against the reassuring solidarity of what appeared to be a sideboard and quavered, "Henry?".

There was no answer and she tried hard to sound convincingly calm.

"Henry, this is ridiculous. Why don't you turn on the light and we'll talk about it sensibly?" Sensible was the last thing she felt but she couldn't stand the waiting no longer.

Y/n was just close enough to the edge of her self control to try shameless grovelling.

" All right, so I acted foolishly this evening. Now you've got your revenge and now we're even aren't we?"

Silence

"okay fine , yes, I admit it!" she cried. "I pretended to be drunk to tease you but…"

Silence,

"I did it because... because I didn't expect you to respond." And may God not strike her down for that awful lie!

"I wanted to annoy you, that's all. It was wrong of me. Childish. I'm sorry. I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You always seem to have this - control over me. I just wanted to get under your skin for once."

Silence

"Henry? Henry!' Her placatory tone slipped badly.

" Fuck!, stop it. Henry, this isn't funny anymore!"

A soft chuckle floated out of the darkness. Y/n was too disorientated to guess its direction and she whirled a full circle.

" I'm not playing your stupid game any more, Henry, so you may as well come out. I won't try and run away again. I promise."

Silence.

Y/n began to tremble, not from fear but from helpless desire. Dammit, why didn't he come out and finish what she had started already. There was a soft sound to her left, a tiny echoing click that acted like a trigger on her taut nerves, catapulting her automatically to the other wall of the room, where she backed hastily between two tented objects that provided her with a solid sense of security. A false sense, she discovered, when a hand suddenly whipped across her mouth from behind, smothering her scream.

"So much for your promises, Y/n," came the clipped murmur in her ear. "That was only my cuff-link. You ran straight into my arms."

The hand across her mouth tightened as she tried to protest, and an arm lashed around her waist, drawing her back against a hard, familiar body. He hadn't lied in his silken whispers. He was just as aroused as she was by their foolish game.

She stood there for a moment, her head against his shoulder, trembling and breathless. She tried to speak and tasted the sweat of his palm. Instead of dropping his hand he trailed it deliberately across her lips, his fingers curving into her parted mouth, stroking the inner surface of her mouth and fondling her tongue with an intimacy that was far more shocking than any explicit sexual caress.

Her heart thundered in her breast as he softly probed her moistness, scaling the breath from her lungs, as he whispered, "Do you like this, Y/n? Your mouth is like wet satin, wrapping around my fingers. Use your tongue, tell me if you like the taste of me…" The sheer intoxication of his husky plea made her moan and he quickly let his hand drop.

"Am I hurting you?"

She couldn't answer and his hand continued to fall, until it settled on the firm roundness of her left breast, his palm cupping her, feeling the pounding tumult within.

" You...frighten me," she managed to say, her taste buds tingling with each word, drowning in the full flavour of him.

"This isn't fright, Y/n…" His hand tightened and then released, to flatten and move against her in soft rotation, compressing the flesh in a way that made her tremble even more.

"This is excitement. You wanted to be caught, didn't you? You're as curious about me as I am about you, only you wouldn't let yourself admit it. Tell me now if this is not what you want, Y/n, because from here on in I can't guarantee my control…"

As he issued his rough command his hand moved to explore her other breast. The hand around her waist strayed, fingers splaying against her velvet belly, digging into her softness, reaching for the ache that was forming in the pit of her stomach. His mouth was moving against her shining cap of hair, seeking the sensitive hollows at the nape of her neck.

He was handing control to her because she made him feel wildly out of control. She had never driven a man so wild with desire that he didn't know what he was doing...

"Henry, God, -"

"don't say no, Y/n. Not now." He spun her tightly in his arms and she made a discovery that drenched her with sensuous delight.

"Your clothes…"

He had taken off his jacket and tie some time during his dark pursuit and unbuttoned his shirt so that it hung free from his broad shoulders. The hands that she had placed against his chest met with bare skin- hot, damp, satiny skin covered with thick, soft hair. His heart was almost leaping from his chest and he shuddered as she pressed her palm harder against him, marveling at the strength and power rippling beneath the skin.

"I got hot, chasing you," he said. "I still am. Wanting you makes me that way. Hot and so ready that I can hardly stand!"

He made a subtle movement with his hips and groaned as he brushed against the thick velvet folds of her dress. She felt a fresh moisture break out on his skin and in an instinctive gesture of acceptance leaned forward to nuzzle it from his chest, her mouth inadvertently brushing against one of his large, flat nipples in his nest of hair.

He made a choking sound in his throat, arching back to give her free access to his upper body and in the process ground his swollen hardness against the juncture of her thighs

"do it"

Y/n barely heard his ragged plea. Henry was so exquisitely responsive to every tiny movement she made, even to the very breath from her lips upon his skin, that he was soon deep in the toils of a dreamy delirium.

She wasn't aware of the rip he made in the back of her dress when his shaking hands wrenched the zip down, only of the molten sensuality of his gaze as he steered her into a shaft of light near the window and studied her breasts. nestled in their cups of pure white lace.

"Did you wear this for me?" he asked thickly, roughly tracing the outline of the lace across the curving swells. "Did you want me to take off your dress tonight, Y/n? To admire you like this?"

His arousal was so flatteringly intense that she couldn't deny him the truth.

"Yes…"

She closed her eyes, gasping as she felt the stroke of his thumbs across the seams, finding the rigid tips that were evidence of her own desire. He made a sound and she felt him kneel to pull her velvet gown over her hips, revealing the white panties and suspender belt in the same simple lace design as the bra, demure yet sexy in their essential femininity.

He made another sound, this time deep and guttural, his hands running up the backs of her thighs, pulling them closer and parting them slightly.

She opened her eyes, clutching at his naked shoulders as he moved his mouth hotly against the lacy front panel of her panties and pressed a string of kisses from the soft skin at the tops of her stockings to the deep, frantic pulse at the hollow of her hip.

Y/n could feel the cool air along her pussy as warmth settled there. Rough hands sent a shiver through her body as they ran the length of her thighs, kneading her ass before finding their way back to her pussy, and pushing her panties to the side for a better look at what she had to offer. Y/n shook and he purred in approval of her reaction.

Henry pressed forward until Y/n felt his lips along her folds, teasing her before delving deeper. Y/n gasped at the first taste, the tip of his tongue poking at her entrance, her arousal spilling forth. Henry ran the length of her pussy until he flicked her clit, the twitch it brought forth made him snicker into her skin. He dragged his tongue along her clit again, grazing it over and over as her pelvis flinched unwillingly.

“shit,” she hissed, trying not to moan though it felt so good.

Y/n clung onto his shoulders, the buzz she felt in her stomach coming closer to finding its release. Her thighs trembled as he grew more persistent, his tongue agile as it drew forth an orgasm but just before she could relish in the exquisite feeling, he pulled away. It had been almost a year since you had been pleasured by anything other than her own hands and this was starting to drive her mad.

The sight of his dark head moving against her and the sensations he was creating made her cry out in helpless need and he looked up, a dark blush crossing his face when he saw her starlit expression.

He stood and kissed her on the mouth until they were both breathless. Then, still holding her, he reached behind him, dragging the sheet off the nearest object.

It was a smooth, polished mahogany dining table, it's dark surface reflecting the muted lights from the moon.

Y/n imagined him laying her down on that smooth hardness and leaning over her, feeling the melting pleasure of his touch.

Henry turned her, pressing her hips against the carved mahogany edge.

"I've never made love on a table before," she whispered raggedly, hoping that she wouldn't disappoint him with her relative inexperience. No doubt he was used to women who were terribly adventurous and sexually sophisticated. She thrusted the jealous thought away and linked her arms around his neck, reminding herself that she could make him shake with passionate need. She could make up with enthusiasm for what she lacked in experience and he would never know the difference.

He stilled and she was afraid that she had destroyed the moment with her naive little confidence. Henry lifted his head and looked at the table behind her. Then he stopped and swept her off her feet, lifting her into his strong arms.

"No, not here," he said hoarsely. "The first time should be in a bed.." He began to move with Y/n in his arms and she turned her hot face against his broad chest, adoring him for caring enough to make this exactly right for them.

"I don't want to wait." She told him shyly of her need and his arms tightened, the muscles of his shoulders and neck bunching into prominence as his stride quickened.

"You won't have to." He turned into another doorway, dipping an elbow against the wall until twin lamps glowed, their light filtered into a soft, golden delicacy by the cloths that swathed them.

Henry didn't let her go as he removed the covering over the bed and stripped back the dark feather quilt. When he finally put her down it was on to crisp white sheets that released a lavender fragrance to mingle with the heated scent of arousal that perfumed their bodies.

Henry stood by the bedside, looking down at her. Then he spread his hands, revealing the light tremor that shook his hand ever so gently.

"Look what you do to me. You make me weak. No one has ever had that effect on me" Y/n reached out a hand and touched his trident stomach.

"You're the strongest man I know," her hand ran down his stomach and over the muscle underneath as she moved down to his belt. She tugged at it gently

"I want you" she purred.

The knowledge of their mutual desire flared in his hungry eyes, hardening the planes and angles of his face until it looked as rigid as his body under her exploring hand. He caught her wrist before she would have touched him intimately, folding her arm back into the pillow behind her head he knelt beside her.

"Say it again. Say my name."

"I want you to make love to me, Henry." Her words were a promise to give him all that he wanted and more.

"No more running?" he raised his eyebrow jokingly and Y/n shook her head, unable to speak as he unclipped the front fastening of her bra, sensing that he wanted her to lie quiescently as he bared the last secrets of her body.

She felt shy, like a precious gift being gloatingly unwrapped, but she didn't resent his moment of purely masculine triumph. The glory of the moment was also hers, this beautiful man that she had known for so long finally hers. He was giving himself to her and asking nothing but what she was willing to give in return. For tonight and perhaps for many nights to come she would let him satisfy the hunger in her soul, colour the cold grey corners of her world with a warmth and vibrant life that would dispel, at least for a time, the loneliness she had come to accept many years ago.

"I want you, too…" she whispered as she welcomed the joy of his touch.

Henry undressed himself with a fumbling haste that she found inexpressibly exciting and when he came down on to her she gasped at the violent energy of his enthusiasm. Y/n stared up at him, his cock hanging out for all to see.

The controlled, disciplined man she had grown to know vanished completely. In his place was a greedy, intemperate, ardent and impetuous male, urgently intent with plundering each and every lavish pleasure of flesh.

Henry smirked, his hand slowly pumping his dick a few times before he bent down and slid the tip over her slit and pushed inside roughly, allowing her no resistance as he filled her entirely.

This moment when he took her would live vividly in her memory forever.

The shocking reality of his first thrust stilled them both but then he stilled, chest shaking, half across her body, his head buried in the curve of her neck.

'Surely he's not going to stop now,' y/n thought hysterically as her body slowly adjusted to the agonising fullness, and she felt the involuntary ripples of tension begin to absorb him even more deeply into her being.

Y/n dropped her head back as she let out a low growl as he thrusted sharply, allowing a moment between each as they were jolted into the bed. His hands were on her hips, holding her down as he slid in and out.

Relax and enjoy was about all Y/n was capable of doing as his sensual onslaught built towards a fiery climax. He devoured her, feasting on her body with blind hunger, biting lushly into her skin, sipping and suckling the sweetness from her achingly swollen breasts as his hands adjusted her body around his, moaning and shuddering so violently when she even lightly caressed his body with her own that she resorted to merely riding the exquisite storm as he sank deeper than before.

Henry groaned and y/n felt a sudden burst of warmth, his cum leaking down her legs as she let the feeling of her own orgasm near

She plunged a hand into his sweat-drenched hair, and pulled his head back.

"Henry-"

The moan came quickly and she hardly recognised him as she gawked up at him. His mouth was full, reddened, the skin drawn tightly over the bones of his face giving him a lean, hollowed-checked wildness, his deep set eyes open but blank with inner turbulence. He looked almost totally insensate.

Y/n felt shaken by a sudden wave of tenderness as his cock slid over a soft spot inside her, her fingers curling tightly into silky-damp hair.

"Henry--"

The tenderness flooded her being and was just swiftly followed by another wave of intense feeling as Henry stiffened and pulled back slightly, the pupils of his eyes contracting, his jaw clenching as he fought the blind instinct that was relentlessly driving him.

"I hurt you, didn't i." he gritted. "I went too fast for you. I'm sorry." He moved up on his braced arms and tried to withdraw further but she stopped him, almost sobbing.

"No... oh, no"

Henry hesitated and she moaned again, this time a bitter protest, "No, please, no, not yet…"

Y/n's pussy tightened and she murmured in delight as he slowly thrusted against her again, her sensitive walls sending a thrill up her spine.

She was fighting to hold on, and he watched, puzzled and then fascinated, as she moaned, her eyes wide with a strange fear and confusion. Her fingers slid laxly out of his hair to clench and unclench helplessly on the pillow. A deep rosy flush spread up from her damp, heaving breasts to mantle her throat and face. He realised then what was happening to her and waited, afraid to move again for fear of breaking the wondrous spell, watching hotly as the inexorable momentum built swiftly to a flashpoint.

Only when she rolled her flushed cheek sideways into the pillow did he move, cupping her face with his strong hand, forcing her to look at him.

"No, let me see... let me watch it happen to you...I want to watch"

Her eyelids fluttered at his husky command, her blush deepened, but she was too enraptured to feel embarrassed, too stunned by the speed of it all to deny him anything he asked. Her mouth trembled and parted and she began to gasp in light, shallow breaths that made her flushed breasts quiver deliciously, invitingly.

He bent and touched a stiff pink nipple experimentally with his mouth, very gently. She jerked and cried out, exploding beneath him in a series of violent convulsions that almost unseated him. He gripped her thighs and held her steady while she sobbed and moaned and poured herself into him, and then, as she melted lovingly around him he at last began to move, uncertainly echoing her undulating movements until he established his own powerful rhythm, this time driving her with him, until his raw shout of exuberant satisfaction signalled that the whirlwind was spent.

In the morning Y/n was grateful for the resilience of her relative youth. Even after a long hot shower, her muscles ached with the extravagance of her strenuous exercise. She felt as if she had been battered, not by one whirlwind, but several. And she had. If she had thought that Henry's incandescent passion would swiftly burn them both out she discovered, through the ravishing reaches of the night, that she was marvellously mistaken.

His desire, like his curiosity about her body, had proved insatiable. And, although the second and third time they made love it was not with the stunning speed of the first, it was still fiercely, gloriously energetic. He encouraged a boldness in her that she hadn't known she possessed.

He made her feel unutterably sexy, as if she was the only woman in the world who could satisfy his lavish appetite for lovemaking, and he devoted and demanded the same kind of single-minded commitment to creating pleasure that he did to his more worldly objectives. In short, he was every bit the fantastic lover she had imagined he was.

Y/n smiled to herself as she sipped her coffee. Was this a case of being hoist by her own petard? If so, everyone should have such a virile executioner!

"You look quite disgustingly smug."

Henry had showered, brought her coffee and toast in bed and casually dressed in front of her with the ease of a man who was thoroughly satisfied with himself and the world in general.

"You're looking fairly smug yourself," she answered boldly.

"Making love in the morning obviously suits us both and in the evening, and at night. By the way, what are you doing at lunchtime?" Y/n couldn't stop blushing and Henry smirked.

She wasn't that bold - yet.

If she and Henry were lovers for long she didn't doubt that she could become very, very brazen.

"Eating," she said repressively.

Henry refused to be repressed. "you're a wicked, decadent woman." He leaned over and tugged at the sheet that was tucked over her breasts and down to her waist. Y/n squeaked and held out her cup, afraid she would spill some of the hot liquid as he bent to lightly kiss her rosy softness.

" is all of you on the menu, or just selected divine parts?"

"You're a glutton!" Y/n murmured weakly, closing her eyes, shivering at the tingling pleasure his delicately teasing tongue evoked.

"Ouch!" Henry winched, The coffee having splashed onto his cheek as y/n unconsciously let the coffee cup slip.

"Serves you right." She didn't pull up the sheet, sitting primly among the crumbs and cotton sheets, deliciously aware of the contrast between her nudity and his dark, formal suit as he moved away.

He had told her he had an early meeting --one reason for the necessity to rouse her just after dawn by making love to her sleepy, languorous body.

Waking up to find Henry inside her was just one of the new, fresh pleasures of life!

"Will you meet me for lunch? This meeting should be over by then." He straightened his tie in front of the mirror then walked back to her.

"If you want me to…" He cupped her chin, reminding her of the way he had refused to allow her to hide from him last night.

"I want you to. Make no mistake about that, y/n. I have no regrets. None."

"Good." She lifted her chin and tried for a little of the sophistication he was no doubt used to. "I wouldn't like to think that I had disappointed you."

To her annoyance, he laughed. He straightened, letting his fingers trail down her throat. "There wasn't much chance of that, believe me."

"Oh, are you so confident of your prowess?" she snapped defensively, feeling suddenly restless and mentative. "You can turn any woman into your personal love machine?"

He seemed unruffled by her irritable crudity, a strange smile still playing around his lips.

"On the contrary. I'm afraid I have no basis for comparison."

"What?" Y/n stared at him blankly.

He scooped up a slice of toast and bit into it. "Couldn't you tell, Y/n? Was my gift such a paltry thing? I thought one's partner could always tell."

What was he talking about? To her horror, Y/n suddenly realised that, although he had used protection afterwards, that first, rough coming-together had been utterly spontaneous and Henry certainly hadn't held back. Did he purposely try to get her pregnant? Was he not really the man she thought he was? No- that couldn't be it.

"What gift? T-tell- me. what?" she stammered, raising her cup to hide the quiver of her mouth, hoping he wasn't going to prove as selfishly arrogant as she suspected!

" Why, that it was my first time, of course." And, as she continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly over the top of the cup, his smile gentled into a tender warmth. "You were my initiation, Y/n. I gave you my virginity, you gave me my manhood."

And, leaving her gasping and choking with shocked disbelief, a pool of hot coffee soaking into the sheets around her, he calmly turned and walked out of the house, a new found pride in his stomach and so much more to be discovered.

Taglist (added in reblog ❤️)

#Henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill one shot

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sweeethinny · 4 years

Note

Hinny prompt: How far did Harry and Ginny go in Half Blood prince?

thanky you honey for the prompt :)

i love to think they didn't get very far, maybe even second base

but they were both teenagers at the height of hormones, so it's almost unreal that nothing ever happened.

i have had this idea in my mind for a while (since i read hpb), and i am happy to finally write it. ended up getting long, but I hope you like it!

AO3

WARMING SMUT

Harry and Ginny were kissing warmly in the empty Common Room, ignoring the beautiful day outside and the opportunity to play Quidditch, preferring to enjoy the unique moment where they were alone and by some miracle, Snape could not apply Harry's detention. They were clinging to the sofa at the back, a little hidden from the hole in the picture and the stairs in the dorms, and Harry suspected that a student had put him there just for those purposes.

‘’I’ve never been happier for a Slytherin to be stupid enough to take extra classes with Snape’’ Ginny sighed when Harry started kissing her neck, lifting her chin so he had more space

‘’We won’t talk about him while we’re kiss, thanks’’ She laughed, scraping her nails on her boyfriend’s scalp, breathing unevenly after all that moment, wanting him to continue his journey through her body ..

‘’I’ll have that conversation with McGonagall in a moment .. about my NOM’s and everything’’ Ginny reminded him ‘‘So we don’t have much time’’

''Am I going to need to kidnap you and take you hidden somewhere on the other side of the world, so that we can spend more than half an hour together, without one of us having to slip into any classroom?'' Harry sighed tiredly , laying his head on her breasts, as he breathed in the numbing fragrance and let himself be carried away by the sound of Ginny's laughter, which made her little body tremble slightly "Seriously, I will kidnap you sooner or later"

''It's not kidnapping if I want to go with you'' She shrugged, wrapping her legs around his, looking at the ceiling while enjoying the feeling of him there ''We can meet at night, after dinner .. It's impossible for Hermione want to study at that time''

‘’And where do you suggest? As beautiful as the night is outside, I don't think we'll be able to get more than half an hour without having to come back or someone interrupts us.'' Harry continued to lie down, hugging her waist and with his eyes closed, feeling safer than in the whole his life, almost sleeping with the calm movement of her chest rising and falling, her heart beating at the same rate as his being the best lullaby.

‘’Um ... in your room? I can manage to sneak into your bed’’ The boy barely opened his eyes, adjusting himself even more in the middle of her soft breasts, not paying much attention to where he was actually lying, just enjoying the moment

‘’Do you want your brother to cut my balls off? I always thought they might be a little useful to you at one time or another, you know’’ Ginny laughed, and Harry thought he had heard her laugh more often than in all the years they had spent together, which made him very proud

‘’Didn’t I say I’m going to protect you? Besides, I can use your cloak.'' He sighed, intoxicated by her scent, feeling the drowsiness building up behind his eyelids, and maybe just for that reason, he agreed with that crazy and suicidal idea of taking her to his dorm late of the night. The same one where he slept with her brother and his best friend (and let's not even talk about her ex, but Harry didn't really think Dean interfered much)

[...]

When night came, Harry barely remembered his commitment to Ginny, he took his shower, put on his pajama pants and kept his shirt off, the heat forcing him to do so. He and Ron talked about commonplace things and discussed the new magazine that his friend had purchased, which was far from familiar and educational.

‘‘I think she’s great’’ Seamus commented, tossed on his bed and looking at the page Ron had marked as the best of all

‘‘It’s the tattoo’’ Dean sighed ‘’Harry, what’s your opinion?’’ For some reason he thought Dean had questioned him mainly because he was on a tightrope about any answer he could give. Agree with that, Ron could end up with his balls, since he dated his younger sister. Not to agree, they would know he was lying, because Ashley was such a hot woman, there was no denying it, and even Ginny would confirm that.

He preferred to shrug ‘‘I think there are better’’ Basic, simple, and that implied that his girlfriend was in that circle - which was true, because only Merlin knows how many baths Harry has been taking lately.

When everyone finally decided to sleep, Harry closed his curtains, trying not to remember his girlfriend too much so he could really rest, but unable to avoid remembering her smell or the feeling of his kisses on her neck. Or when she was kneeling in the middle of his legs, reading a magazine and resting her head on one of his knees, looking barely paying attention to the fact that Harry was about to pass out.

‘‘Hey’’ Harry almost reached the bedroom ceiling when she whispered into his cubicle, Gin’s floating head popping out between the curtains as she smiled gloriously, raising her wand and casting protective spells over there. ‘’Nice chest’’ And with an almost idiotic shame, he pulled the cover up higher, protecting himself from the redhead who seemed to vibrate with excitement

''What the fuck are you doing here?'' She took off his cloak - which he didn't know how the hell she had stolen -, wore adorable pink shorts, not much shorter than he used to see her, the old shirt was a little tight and showing some of its creamy skin. Gin pulled the cloak off her body, and settling down beside him, smiling from ear to ear as she got comfortable on the other half of the pillow, right next to Harry still shocked

‘’Didn’t we agree?’’ Ginny wrapped her cold arm around his waist, pulling him to lie down again, burying her face in his bare chest. That at this point, it was echoing the violent beating of his heart ‘’You agreed with me’’

‘’I had my head on your breasts. I would agree to die’’ She laughed, shrugging and crawling up a little, coming face to face with him, noses a few inches away

‘’Please don’t agree to die just because it’s close to my breast’’ The brown eyes were quite dark due to the lack of light, but Harry could still see some of that caramel color that he loved so much. Only now, it looked a lot more like the color of the firewhiskey, and he would be drunk easily if they stayed that close.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ This time he laughed ‘’If Ron sees us ...’’

'' ..He's not going, we're protected'' Ginny came even closer, and instinctively he closed his eyes, smelling the delicious scent of flowers ''I just wanted to be with you, no worries that in a few minutes we need to run to some classroom or library ... Besides, I just need to get out of here a little bit before everyone wakes up, so we have a lot of time'' And she ended the distance, kissing him with an almost new calm, holding his face and tilting her body closer and closer to Harry's.

His hands were lost at the end of her spine, going down the delicious curve that ended in her soft ass, then passing through the firm thighs and staying there, before going up all over again and strolling through the ribs and stopping on the side of her left breast, who without much effort, Harry realized was unprotected from a bra. He groaned in his girlfriend's mouth, just at the thought.

"You're going to be the cause of my death," Ginny laughed, rolling them around until Harry was on his back on the mattress and she could mount him with agility, moving away from his lips and looking like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen .

''I'm happy to be me and not any other girl. Or the you-know-who’’ Harry smiled, happy that they were there, blinking almost anesthetized at the sight of her in his lap

''So do I, '' He admitted, like a fool in love who was ''You look beautiful'' He meant that he was never worried about his future, or any shit related to Horcrux when he was beside her, that he never he was as peaceful and happy as he was in those last days, that he never felt so ... alive. He also meant that he loved her, and that he was terrified of that feeling because he had never experienced anything like it.

''You're looking at me like that funny'' Even in the darkness, he could see her blush ''Stop it'' Ginny laughed, covering her boyfriend's face with her hands, and Harry bet his fortune that she looked like a tomato at that moment

‘’Can’t I say you’re beautiful anymore?’’ He would laugh next to her, spread her hands and look at her again

‘’No, I prefer you to kiss me’’ Harry who wouldn’t argue against that argument, leaning over to grab it again and get back to the common snogging between the two.

But it didn't seem like that was in Ginny's mind, not when she curiously ran her hands down Harry's bare chest and scraped her nails on the small dark hair path under his navel, over his pajamas and making him lose his breath

‘’Gin ... ’’ It sounded more like a snarl, the small hand touching him there, seeming to discover his entire territory, and consequently making him wake up completely.

‘’Let me do this’’ She asked, sucking on that tender spot behind his ear ‘‘I want to know what it’s like’’ Harry could die now, he decided, his balls retracting with the light feather stroke she was giving him

The kisses continued, much more fervent and hotter than they had ever been, Harry let his hands roam around her sides and with an impulsiveness that only came when he was close to Ginny, he grabbed her delicious breasts, as if they were the two most valuable snitch from the world, moaning at the sensation of softness against his rough hand and almost burning when she did the same in his mouth.

The caresses continued and Ginny started to move her hips in an almost deadly friction with Harry, looking inert to the movements she was making.

‘’Teach me’’ She asked euphorically, biting his lip before opening her burning eyes. Harry winced when her hand ventured into his already tight underwear.

Not knowing if he would be able to speak, he dropped one hand until he found hers, looking intently at his girlfriend as he wrapped her fingers around his own, squeezing a little more and adjusting to be as he liked, barely able to breathe when they started the movements together.

Tempted to simply close his eyes and fall back on the bed, Harry forced himself to continue exploring Ginny, because as much as it was delicious to feel her jerking off to him, the boy didn't want to be the only one to feel that happy.

''If you do that I won't be able to concentrate'' She moaned as he kissed her freckled collarbone, while his left hand also curiously dropped to the middle of her legs, feeling incredibly big and powerful when he realized that Ginny it was hot and humid.

'' We can handle it'' He kissed her mouth again ''I also need you to teach me'' Harry swallowed the grunt when Ginny's fingers ran under his balls, massaging them with a little care, as if she didn't know whether she was doing it right or not ''Fuck!'' His eyes rolled with sensation, his hips pushing up and making him lose consciousness for a few seconds

Ginny's free hand helped him into her panties, which meant that she had to get out of his lap and lie down on his side again, one leg still wrapped around his waist so he could gain space. Her folds were soft and slippery, and Harry did his best to remember when Seamus had brought that book about female anatomy, struggling to find Ginny's clitoris.

‘’Harry ... ’’ She moaned when he finally found it, squeezing it a little harder and almost making him come

''Gin .. '' He bit her shoulder, trying to contain himself with excitement as he adjusted to the pace that seemed to please the redhead, who started to become really noisy, moving her hips harder, her hand on Harry's cock gaining the same speed as his fingers.

‘’Harry’’ She moaned when he left only his thumb on her clitoris, curiously placing a finger inside it, which she squeezed like a vise, so hot that Harry thought he might be burned. They were no longer able to kiss or articulate coherent words, Harry was totally worried about not coming until he made Ginny at least get close

''Slow down if you don't want me to finish before you do'' He whispered a little lost, being very brave and putting another finger inside her, before heard her swallow a scream and then take it off quickly, feeling like an idiot for doing that ''Sorry!''

‘‘Don’t worry, put it on again’’ Ginny loosened her grip on his cock a little, finally looking at him, looking like a fucking Greek goddess in front of him. And Harry followed her request, hearing she moan gloriously as she pressed herself against his fingers

‘’I swear I’m going to pass out’’ He spoke again as soon as she combined the rhythm of his fingers with her hand. She laughed, looking a lot more amused than Harry thought appropriate for that moment

''Sorry, but I said I was going to lose my concentration'' And then they started kissing again, calmer, but without losing the rhythm of their hands, both of them climbing up to that cliff that looked too tempting not to jump, Harry coming there first, in a cut groan that seemed to break his skin, a thousand times better than any handjob alone in the bath, making him have blurred vision and lose his strength, letting his face fall in the curve of Ginny's neck, like a drunk after many firewhisky bottles.

Tempted to make her feel the same, he continued his work on his girlfriend, feeling her tighter and tighter, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as she moaned in his ear, her chest rising unevenly and his name coming out in the last seconds before finally coming, getting much more slippery and wet, as well as being red as fire.

Harry never thought she was as beautiful as she was then.

‘’That ... ’’ Ginny lowered her leg from Harry’s waist, swallowing hard as she looked at him in awe

‘’I hope your spell is really good’’ And as if only now she realized where she was, she opened her eyes wide, putting her hand over her mouth and blushing even more

"Did you ever wonder if we made too much noise?" Harry took his wand, cleaning up the mess they had made and then adjusting her and his pajamas before covering them again - at some point, the blanket had been tossed away from the bed - returning to settle on her soft breasts, feeling the happiest man in the world

''Your brother would have come here to kill me, you can be sure'' Harry assured me ''Gin, I ... '' Then he stopped, thinking that he couldn't lock her up like that, not when - now that his consciousness was finally back - he didn't know if he could be alive tomorrow. It would be unfair, and he would never forgive himself ‘’How did you get my cloak?’’ She smiled, snuggling closer and wrapping one of her legs around his waist, as if he were a big pillow

''I have my secrets .. '' Ginny kissed his forehead, not far from the scar, but none of them noticed, not at that moment at least, and Harry couldn't explain why he felt so safe and ... loved, but he was too tired to dissect his own mind.

The two slept embraced, tired, and the following year, when he fled on his suicide mission, feeling helpless and afraid, he used that memory as a refuge, finally realizing that Ginny had been the first person to touch his scar lovingly, and Harry was sure that she was the woman of his life, he just wasn't sure if he would have the chance to be the man of her

#hinny #missing moments #hinnyprompt #hinnysmut #Harry Potter #harry X ginny #hpb #harry potter and the half blood prince #missing moments half blood prince #read-a-hinny-fic #ginny weasley

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khaotic-kitsunes · 3 years

Text

Vacation

Okay, so here we fucking go!!! Part 12 to ‘The Proposal’ and so sorry it’s late but christmas day was busy and then the day after I felt super rundown and gross; kind of like waking up with a hangover but I didn’t actually drink any alcohol.

I think I’ll call it a social hangover because the people were overwhelming to be around for a solid 15 hours.

Either way, I hope you enjoy this part; the scene was HEAVILY inspired by @himawari-senpaii and they’re also helping me with future plans because they’re an amazing human being??? So, yeah.

🥃 AO3 🥃

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

“Taishiro, where’s the bathtub? You said I could have a nice hot bath after dinner!” You called out to Taishiro as you stood in the doorway to the bathroom, entirely unimpressed at the lack of a bathtub. Instead of a luxurious bathroom with a bathtub fit for a king, or more accurately, your lover, there was only a neatly tiled room with a plain basin and a not-so-impressive showerhead.

There was no bathtub.

“Hm? Oh, I forgot to show you the best part about this place, didn’t I?”

You tilted your head back to look up at your chuckling boss while he wrapped an arm around your smaller form, pulling you in against his side with a warm smile directed down at you. He made it almost impossible to remember that he’s a dangerous man.

“Unless the ‘best part about this place’ is a giant bathtub that I can lose myself in after getting absolutely fucked senseless on the kitchen counter earlier…I don’t want to hear about it, you promised me a hot bath” You narrowed your eyes at him as you puffed up your cheeks to demonstrate your determination, or rather, your stubbornness. It didn’t matter that you loved every moment of his touch, you needed a bath. It was non-negotiable.

“Funny you should say that…” Taishiro leaned down, kissing your cheek before turning and leading you through the cabin, keeping his pace at a leisure stroll so that you could keep up with his long legs.

“You’re keeping me close today” You hummed out the remark quietly, gasping out when Taishiro leaned down, lifting you up into his arms bridal style while he continued to make his way through the cabin; unbothered by the sudden change.

“I’m not allowed to?” You shook your head at his question, slowly relaxing into his warm chest; sighing out in content from the close-contact.

“I didn’t say that” You kept your voice quiet as he walked, staring up at him in a silent fascination. Despite having been both with and around him, it was rare for you to actually take the time and admire him.

“Alright, here we go…”

You held onto Taishiro as he set you down on the ground gently, causing you to take in the room you were now in; your eyes going wide with shock. Apparently Taishiro really had forgotten to show you the best part about his cabin because just ahead of you laid a gloriously large in-ground pool.

The pool itself was deep and almost as long as the room itself with a large fire burning at the end of the room, keeping everything at a cosy temperature; it was like being embraced in Taishiro’s arms. The room felt that comfortable.

“Don’t let the pool fool you, it’s specially designed” Taishiro smiled as he spoke, walking towards the pool and leaving you to stare at the large room in awe for a while longer.

“When you say specially designed…you mean what, exactly?” You slowly began to follow after him, shrugging off the large and ridiculously fluffy robe that Taishiro had offered you when he had woken you for dinner.

“Instead of a pool, it’s a giant bath. The water is filtered through and cleaned so that it only has to be emptied every now and then…it’s heated as well, so you won’t get sick from the cold” You nodded slowly at his words, walking down into the pool using the beautifully black tiled steps that lead into the clear, warm water.

“It’s a pity you don’t have an actual bathtub though…I was going to enjoy a bubble bath” You sighed quietly, submerging yourself in the water up to your neck while your mind drifted towards thoughts of the bubble-filled warmth that was going to be your relaxation for the evening.

“As I said, it’s a giant bath” You looked over at Taishiro as he spoke, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you noticed that he was pouring some kind of substance into the water; though it was easy to guess what it was the moment bubbles began to form from the spot he had poured the liquid; spreading out steadily to fill the entire pool.

“You’re spoiling me…you know that you don’t have to give in to every whim I have, right?” He chuckled at your question, setting the bottle of bubble mix down before making his way into the water, approaching you until he could wrap his arms around your body; pulling you close against his chest, his lips against yours.

“A bubble bath won’t do any harm sweetheart, just relax and enjoy it…there are ledges beneath the water around the edges of the pool for you to rest on as well if you don’t feel like swimming around all the time” His words were muffled against your lips but you understood them well enough. It was a strange sort of set up, but you had to admit, it certainly worked in your favour.

“Taishiro…” He chuckled at the way you mumbled out his name, pulling his head back enough so that he could stare down into your eyes; raising a hand to stroke your cheek.

“Don’t worry, I know…you want to relax for a bit” He smiled as he spoke, leaning down to kiss your forehead before moving towards the edge of the pool, seemingly after one of the ledges he had told you about moments ago.

“Besides, it’s only Friday night and I’ve decided I’ll bring you home early Monday morning.” You frowned as Taishiro spoke, swimming after him slowly as your mind tried to process his words.

“Wait, hold on a second. You said we would only spend two days in the mountains!” Taishiro nodded in response as he sat himself on one of the many ledges, watching you with mild amusement shining in his honey-dipped gaze.

“I changed my mind. Now enjoy your bubble bath before I decide to ravage you here as well (Name).”

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yeah-klave · 3 years

Text

Bran Flakes

Summary: Klaus helps Dave get that sweet, sweet relief.

Genre: Smut.

**FURTHER DETAILS AND WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT**

WARNING: Adult content (18+ only please). Klaus gives Dave a blumpkin. So... kinky smut. Although - because it’s still me - I have written this in the most romantic/tasteful way possible. But if this doesn’t sound like your thing, please don’t read on.

A/N: This is set in an unspecified modern AU.

Word length: 1.5k

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of The Umbrella Academy characters or settings.

*****************************************************

This, Dave though gloomily, was just downright uncomfortable. He shifted his feet on the tiles, raising up onto the balls of his feet to lift his knees, trying to find a better position. He took a deep breath and then strained again. Nothing.

He let his bare feet slap back down onto the bathroom floor, exhaling with a grimace. This was the third day in a row, Dave thought miserably. Three days of feeling heavy, bloated and frustrated. His sphincter clenched involuntarily and he could feel the stubborn, solid mass just inside the entrance to his rectum.

That’s it, he sighed wearily, next time we go grocery shopping I’m buying some bran flakes or something. I don’t care if Klaus laughs at me and makes old man jokes, I clearly need more fibre in my diet. Besides, this situation is hardly ideal for either of us.

Last night, while the two of them had been fooling around in bed, Klaus had licked the shell of his ear, slid his hand down between Dave’s legs and then asked quietly, in a low voice heavy with lust, “Dave, can I be on top tonight?”

Dave’s face had twisted in discomfort. He was painfully aware of his boated abdomen and his uncomfortable fullness.

“Umm,” he’d said awkwardly “can we do something else instead?” And, of course, Klaus had just agreed straight away, without trying to change Dave’s mind. Like always. Because he was respectful of Dave, in a way that Dave hadn’t thought was possible before he met Klaus. Until then, Dave hadn’t thought he was worthy of such respect.

But Klaus so very rarely asked to top. Not with words, not like that. So, he must have really been in the mood, Dave thought. And Dave had turned him down. Because of this.

Dave screwed up his eyes at the memory. “Dammit,” he grunted in frustration, “come on!” He clenched his face and tried pushing and straining again.

And it was right at that moment that Klaus walked in.

“Klaus!” Dave yelped, his face turning bright red. “Klaus, I’m… I’m just…” he spluttered self-consciously. “The bathroom’s… occupied,” he finished lamely.

Klaus rolled his eyes and then smiled down at Dave, who was valiantly trying to look as composed as possible, while sitting on the toilet with his trousers around his ankles. “I can see that, Dave” he said lightly, “but I want to give you a blowjob.”

Dave spluttered again.

“Umm… okay,” he said after a moment. “Well, that sounds lovely. But can you give me a couple of minutes to… errr…” he gestured his current position “…finish up here first, please?”

“No need,” Klaus said briskly.

He dropped to his knees in front of Dave, gave his firm thigh a reassuring pat, then took hold of Dave’s flaccid penis and started rubbing.

“Klaus…” Dave said uneasily.

“Just relax,” Klaus replied, gently pushing Dave to lean back again the raised lid. Then he nudged Dave’s legs further apart and leaned down and took Dave into his mouth.

Dave blinked, looking down at Klaus incredulously.

“You really are something else, you know that?” He said fondly, running his fingers through Klaus’ dishevelled curls. Klaus just hummed in reply.

Dave leaned back and took a deep breath. Klaus’ mouth felt amazing, as always. But this time, it also felt kind of weird. He was very aware of where they were, the porcelain bowl he was sitting over and what he’d been trying to do only a moment ago.

Klaus worked Dave’s length with a skill borne of much practice, setting a decidedly slow and sweetly gratifying rhythm. Dave sighed again and then slowly started rocking his hips in gentle participation.

Suddenly, Klaus’ head came up and he detached from Dave’s cock with a wet pop.

“No,” he said simply. The tiny frown lines that appeared between his dark eyebrows made him look almost comically disgruntled. “I told you to relax, Dave. Just sit back and take it.”

“Ummm… okay,” Dave said again, more than a little perplexed.

“Just completely relax,” Klaus said earnestly. And with that, he lent forwards and took Dave back into his mouth.

Dave sighed and cleared his mind, letting the sensations overtake him. Okay, he though, I’m not entirely sure where this is all coming from, but he is right, this does feel nice.

Dave sat back and let Klaus pleasure him with his mouth, consciously unclenching all the tightness he held in his muscles – his shoulders, his jaw, his thighs, his stomach. He felt loose… free… weightless.

Suddenly, Dave felt his sphincter relax and the swooping twist in his stomach that always preceded a bowel movement.

“Stop! Stop!” Dave said urgently.

Klaus popped his head up again.

“What?” Klaus said, his chin shinning with saliva, looking up at Dave with his large, dark rimmed eyes.

Dave swallowed uncomfortably, his ears red and his cheeks heating up. “I…” he started awkwardly. “I felt like… like I was going to… you know… go” he finished, mortified.

Klaus rolled his eyes fondly. “Well, yeah, Dave,” he smiled from between Dave’s spread thighs, “that’s kind of the point.”

“What?” Dave said. Rather eloquently – he thought – considering the situation.

Klaus shrugged and looked up at him affectionately.

“You’ve been pretty constipated recently, haven’t you?” he said.

“Umm, yeah, I guess” Dave reluctantly agreed.

“You definitely have,” Klaus confirmed.

“How can you be so sure?” Dave asked, furrowing his brows slightly.

“Oh, please, Dave” Klaus huffed. “We’ve been together so long, by this point I probably know your body better than I know my own.”

“Fair enough” Dave conceded.

“And,” Klaus carried on, “it’s been making you feel crap.” Dave could only nod weakly. “Well,” Klaus said with a smile, “I’m in the business of making Dave feel good and also making sure Dave doesn’t feel crap. So…” he gestured their current position.

“Really?” Dave asked, looking down at him with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t it just a bit… I dunno… icky?”

Klaus actually laughed out loud at that. “After all the stuff we’ve done together, Dave?”

Dave sighed and closed his eyes in defeat.

“Okay,” he said slowly, looking back down at Klaus. “But afterwards, if this ends up being gross, just remember you asked for it.”

“Don’t worry, Dave,” Klaus grinned, giving Dave’s leg another reassuring squeeze. “I promise, from the look on my face afterwards, anyone would swear your shit smelled like roses.” Then he winked and took Dave back into his mouth.

Dave huffed a laugh and let Klaus push him back into a reclined position. He breathed deeply and allowed himself to relax again. Klaus brought his hand up and lightly rested in on Dave’s lower abdomen, gently rubbing in soothing circles. Dave couldn’t help but smile.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Klaus’ mouth; on the pleasure radiating from the hot, wet slide of his lips. One area at a time, he consciously released the tension he held in his muscles: his face, his jaw, his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs. He breathed deeply. He felt weightless and floaty and calm and aroused and open and relaxed. And finally, there it was. He felt that familiar swooping sensation in his bowels, a build of pressure and then the delicious slide, as the solid mass slowly began moving down his passage and sliding out of his body.

Dave let out a long, loud moan of relief. It felt so good, he wasn’t even ashamed of the embarrassingly loud splash that followed a moment later.

Dave felt Klaus stretch a smile around his cock before picking up the pace and bobbing his head faster. Still riding the high, and feeling gloriously light and empty, Dave absentmindedly threaded his fingers back into Klaus’ hair and played with his curls until, finally, Klaus tipped him over the edge and he came hard, pulsing thickly and releasing down Klaus’ throat.

After a final, affectionate lick, Klaus raised his head and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He was grinning from ear to ear, a smug expression plastered on his face.

Dave rolled his eyes as he looked down at him, but he also couldn’t help the flutter he felt in his heart at the sight of the incredible, wonderful, unbelievable man he was lucky enough to be sharing his life with.

“Okay, fine” Dave sighed in a mock begrudging tone. “You were right, that felt amazing.” Then he added sincerely, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Klaus grinned. “So,” he added after a beat, raising an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eyes. “How do you feel about returning the favor?”

#klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klaus/dave #klaus x dave

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laequiem · 3 years

Text

She kills my self control - Chapter 10

/ Includes dialogue from The Cruel Prince Chapter 25-26.

cw: unhealthy coping mechanisms (alcohol, sex); physical abuse; nsfw

read on ao3 • previous chapter • next chapter • all chapters

Chapter 10. You can never run from trouble

I knew Jude’s interrogation would not be a great time for me. What I was not expecting, however, was how absolutely terrified I was. She is scary, and I was so discomposed that I told her so. Even without the weapon, I probably would have told her anything she asked. The questions about Locke and Valerian were fine, but things escalated quickly. Everything started going downhill when she asked about a paper she found with her name written all over it. Questions about Nicasia and my feelings for her - as if I wasn’t being vulnerable enough already.

Soon enough, Jude asks the worst question of all.

“Just tell me why you hate me. Once and for all.”

I cannot seem to keep still, my fingers follow the grooves of Dain’s desk.

“You really want honesty?” I ask her, not that I have much of a choice than to tell the truth. I hope she will just take her question back.

“I am the one with the crossbow, not shooting you because you promised me answers. What do you think?”

“Very well,” it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes at the continuous threats, “I hate you because your father loves you even though you’re a human brat born to his unfaithful wife, while mine never cared for me, though I am a prince of Faerie. I hate you because you don’t have a brother who beats you. And I hate you because Locke used you and your sister to make Nicasia cry after he stole her from me. Besides which, after the tournament, Balekin never failed to throw you in my face as the mortal who could best me.”

I hold her stare. Her face betrays nothing, it’s as if she is not in the least surprised about any of it.

“Is that all? Because it’s ridiculous. You can’t be jealous of me. You don’t have to live at the sufferance of the same person who murdered your parents. You don’t have to stay angry because if you don’t, there’s a bottomless well of fear ready to open up under you.”

This is the Jude I am the most familiar with, angry, defiant and mind-numbingly clueless. Technically, I now live with the person who murdered my father. Is she so blind as to not see how scared I am, this very moment? How angry I am, at Madoc, at Balekin, at myself?

“Oh, really?” I sneer, “I don’t know about being angry? I don’t know about being afraid? You’re not the one bargaining for your life.”

“That’s really why you hate me? Only that? There’s no better reason?”

I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. To expose my weakness, to Jude of all people, terrifies me.

“Well?” she impatiently lifts the crossbow, “Tell me!”

“Most of all,” I close my eyes, unable to look at her as I reveal my biggest, dirtiest secret, “I hate you because I think of you. Often. It’s disgusting, and I can’t stop.”

You would think that telling her would lift the weight off my shoulders. It does not—it feels like I am a target, and the bullseye just got larger, easier to hit.

She does not answer. I try to cover my face with my hand to hide my shame.

“Maybe you should shoot me after all.”

“You’re playing me,” she finally replies.

I do not look at her. I can’t. I hear her put the crossbow down on the table, I guess she does not want to give me a quick death. My suspicions are confirmed when Jude puts the point of a knife to my chin and lifts my head to look at her. At first, I try to look away, but I eventually meet her eyes. I know she can read me like an open book, the shame, the want, the fear, and she relishes in it. I think of begging her for mercy, to make it quick. She leans towards me and I have never in my life wanted to sink in the floor as much as I do now. My eyes are wide with confusion. As I smell her iron and wraithberry scent, I am reminded of the realization I had long ago: she is my forbidden fruit. I unconsciously part my lips, ready to bite in and seal my fate.

“You really do want me,” my torturer croons, “and you hate it.”

She shifts the blade to put the sharp edge against my neck. I stay still. She has already humiliated me enough, I will greet death with my chin held high.

I wait for the killing blow, but it does not come. Instead, Jude closes the distance between us and kisses me.

I thought my imagination was grand, yet I was not prepared for this. How her soft lips feel against mine, how little I notice her inexperience. I stifle a moan and close my eyes, willing myself to enjoy what I am now convinced to be my last few breaths.

I carefully slide my hands up her arms. I can feel her strong muscles under the soft skin of her biceps, the small bumps rising from her skin following my touch.

One of my hands snakes down to her waist and pulls her closer, on top of me, while the other tangles in her hair.

Her lips part and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Our teeth and tongues clash in a desperate dance and I get my first taste of poison. A rational man would stop then, her warning signal enough to keep him away. But a starved man would consider eating poisonous food, if not only to die with the comfort of a full stomach.

Clank. I pull away, letting go of her. I had completely forgotten about the knife at my throat and now it's lying on the table. Is she not going to kill me? I laugh awkwardly.

“Is that what you imagined?”

I imagined a lot of things, but never her putting a knife to my throat.

“No."

“Tell me," she orders.

I shake my head.

“Unless you’re really going to stab me, I think I won’t. And I might not tell you even if you were going to stab me.”

Jude gets on Dain’s desk. It looks like she’s trying not to smile. It angers me that she thinks something about this is funny, when I have been nothing but honest and unguarded.

“I am going to make a proposal," I tell her, "I don’t want to put the crown on Balekin’s head just to lose mine. Ask whatever you want for yourself, for the court of shadows, but ask something for me. Get him to give me lands far from here. Tell him I will be gloriously irresponsible, far from his side. He never needs to think of me again. He can sire some brat to be his heir and pass the High Crown to it. Or perhaps it will slit his throat, a new family tradition. I care not.”

“Get up.”

“So you’re not worried I’m going to run for it?”

I get up and stretch my legs.

“After our kiss, I am such a fool over you that I can hardly contain myself," she drawls and I feel my heart twist in my chest, "All I want to do is nice things that make you happy. Sure, I’ll make whatever bargain you want, so long as you kiss me again. Go ahead and run. I definitely won’t shoot you in the back.”

I thought she was sincere at first, but I should have known better. Nothing true ever comes out of her lying mouth. I do not know what to say, so I just say my truth.

“Hearing you lie outright is a bit disconcerting.”

“Then let me tell you the truth. You’re not going to run because you’ve got nowhere to go.”

Jude leaves the room, and I go back to the table where I was playing cards earlier. I pick up the deck of cards and start shuffling mindlessly, keeping my eyes on her as she leaves the hideout.

She is right. I have nowhere to go. I have no home, only a room in my tormenter's mansion. Even as I picture a new life far from the palace, it does not feel like home. I try to imagine a palace all for myself, where I throw parties and drink until the sun rises, where I am surrounded by females who worship me, where people laugh at my jokes and admire me. It feels as lonely as my life here.

I close my eyes and try to focus on home.

The mansion disappears. Instead, I lay in a spacious bed, in a luxuriously decorated room. I know it to be my room, even if I have never seen this room in my life. On my right, I see an open closet filled with extravagant clothes, clearly mine. As I look to the left, I realize I am not alone in this room.

Jude is sitting by the window, moonlight casting light on the dagger she is polishing.

I throw the deck or cards on the desk and get up with a groan. I know the spies are staring, but I don't care. I storm back to Dain's office and sit on the chair I had been tied to. Jude took her knife and crossbow back, but the dent the knife made in the table is still there. I run my fingers over it.

The kiss has completely ruined me.

I want to taste her again, taste every inch of her skin. I want to know if she tastes different than faeries.

I want her mouth on me, her nails digging in my back making new scars over the old ones.

I want her to keep that dagger to my throat and use me until she grows bored of me.

I want her hands wrapped around my throat.

I want her to deny me until I beg for release.

I am thoroughly depraved.

The moment she put that knife to my throat, I knew that what I felt for her was not fear. A little bit of fear, sure, but it was different from what I felt when Balekin removed his belt.

It wasn't mere hate, either. Up until now, my fantasies of Jude were always ones where I had the power, putting her down for the way she humiliated me time and time again.

Our kind does not love the way yours do, Locke had told Taryn.

He was wrong.

What I thought was mere lust-fueled infatuation is in fact something much, much more dangerous.

I am in love with Jude Duarte.

#tfota #the folk of the air #cardan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jurdan #judecardan #the cruel prince #fanfic #smut #angst

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cheezritsu · 4 years

Text

Kuroo Tetsuro || Spring Cleaning

People stare at the sight of Kuroo’s car sputtering and gasping for life as he illegally parks it—inhumanely keeping the old thing running—while he waits patiently outside the busiest general store this side of town. He’s used to stares by now; he knew he must have looked strange sitting in a running car with the windows down on this especially vicious late-September afternoon, but he had his reasons.

Okay, he only had one reason. And you’d been in the store for over ten minutes.

He scrolls through his phone before deciding whether or not he’s going to text you. If he does, it’ll be something snarky, such as: I’m going to leave in five with or without you. He’s allowed to say this because the both of you know he would never.

Your reasons for thinking so are completely different from his, but that’s neither here nor there.

He’s mustering up the courage to send said text when you finally emerge. Kuroo dons a mischievous grin before honking, long and hard to gain not just your attention, but the stares of just about everyone in the parking lot.

You freeze up, eyes widening as you book it the rest of the way to the car, plastic bags swinging wildly. Kuroo’s laugh isn’t perturbed by you slamming the door with excess force—it actually gets louder.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with you!”

“You were taking too long.”

“You could have texted me like a regular person!”

Kuroo snorts as he shifts gears and pulls off. “Since when am I a regular person?”

The particular route Kuroo uses to get back to the apartment is winding and hidden. You haven’t the faintest clue how a city boy like him has the internal compass to drive these roads, but you can’t complain with the view. Fall has technically arrived, but summer still has its hooks in Miyagi. The trees and the grass and the sky are saturated in a way that looks unreal, like you’re living in a doctored image.

“Here,” he says, plopping his phone in your lap, careful to avoid the groceries. “Pick something.”

Kuroo’s spoitfy is full of carefully curated playlists from artists you’ve never heard of. You don’t know when he has time to make all of these, between his busy ass class schedule and his part-time job, not to mention volleyball practices. And yet a number of playlists with obscure, stupid names are staring back at you.

You click on the one you two had been jamming to earlier, and a familiar song rattled through the shitty speakers.

Kuroo smiled, but didn’t say anything. Your elbows lean out the open windows, wind sweeping through your hair. You have a serene smile painted on your face, one Kuroo is simply stealing glances at. At the speed he’s going it would be dangerous to look at you. As if it wouldn’t be regardless.

You sigh, catching his full attention. “Something wrong?”

“It’s sooo pretty outside,” you whine, stretching further out the window. You’re like a cat lazing in the sun, or Kenma after a long night of gaming. “I wish we didn’t have to spend it cleaning.”

Kuroo can’t quite imagine what the two of you would be doing on a day like today if you weren’t forced together to clean his apartment. There really isn’t a we, he reminds himself. Only you.

So he simply nods, focusing on the road. His turns are smooth and expert. His hands glide across the gear shift while also turning on his indicator, and you snort upon hearing it.

“You’re so careful,” you tease, if that was even something to tease about. A cunning grin cuts across his face, but the edges of his lips curl bitterly.

“Well, can’t have you getting injured. It’d be more work for me.”

“You’d probably never hear the end of it from Tsukki.”

Kuroo grips the steering wheel a little tighter. His smile fades completely. “Probably.”

It’s in this moment does the glow of you being in his car—alone, just two of you—fade. Wind rips through the plastic bag which contains the cleaning items you two were tasked with getting while Tsukishima—his roommate—was stuck in class, and you—the dutiful girlfriend of said roommate—were ever so gracious to buy.

When the two of you hop out of his ancient, atrocious car, Kuroo’s fantasy of there being a we dissolves. From the balcony of their shitty apartment, Tsukishima looks down upon Kuroo as if God were squinting upon an ant. You bound up the stairs and quickly join his side.

You and Tsukishima exchange words he can’t hear. The plastic bag rustles as his hand circles your waist in a one-armed hug, and it rests there, for what feels like forever. Kuroo can see it through the railing; he feels disgusting, as if he’s caught sight of something he shouldn’t have.

The view is distorted as Tsukishima turns, looking back down to Kuroo. “Akiteru’s going to be here in a couple of hours, so we’d better start cleaning again.”

You turn too, curling hair behind your ear. The setting sunlight crowns you both gloriously, like you were both royalty. Made to be.

Kuroo wonders if when Tsukishima says we he means him too.

“Yeah, yeah, calm down you crazy kids.” Kuroo smirks, and pretends like he’s shielding his face from the sun. He takes a deep breath before he schools his face into a smirk that can fool anyone—maybe even himself, if he’s lucky—and heads up the stairs.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #nekoma #haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu x reader #one day i'll let kuroo be happy #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader

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alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #33: Amaldis

Yikes, I completely forgot to post this! Hard day at work. -------------------------------------------

The prince was young and handsome, as they all were, with the sort of arrogant good looks that wealth and power almost always brought. It was a tragedy that so many of these young men had to die, the old woman thought. Such a waste. She stepped out into the road, into the pathway of his horse.

The horse reared up as the prince pulled on the reins. "Out of my way, old woman!" he shouted.

"Are you going to the capital?" the woman asked. She was over 40, but well-fed, clean and well-dressed. His eyes flickered over her, as if trying to decide her station.

"Yes. What business is it of yours?"

"Have you come to join? To swear allegiance to the sorceress Amaldis?"

"No." The prince's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword as fury darkened his features. "I've come to kill the witch."

"Are you a fool, young man?" The woman's eyes blazed, and she stepped up to his horse, glaring up at him. "Threescore young men, brave and noble, have come to Cythia to kill the sorceress, and all of them have died. Are you so arrogant and foolish as to believe you'll succeed where so many have failed?"

"I don't fear the witch's sorcery," the prince said firmly. "I have a good sword and a trusty mount. That's all I need."

"Oh, you are a fool. A younger son? Expendable? You need to do something impossible, to make a name for yourself?"

"She stole lands that belong to my father!" he shouted, his face purpling. "My family's honor is at stake!"

"And so you'll die for your family's honor."

"If I die, at least I'll die in glory."

"Glory?" There was cold fury in the woman's voice. "Let me tell you what glory is, boy. Glory is a corpse rotting in a field, the crows plucking its eyes. Glory is your lover weeping, knowing her man will never come home. Glory is children bereft of fathers, crops burning, women raped, people enslaved. I spit on your glory." And she did, spitting on his boots.

The prince drew his sword, provoked beyond endurance, and swung it to behead the woman. But she wasn't there. Startled, he looked about himself, trying to find her.

The ground rumbled. The trees lining the road shed leaves in a storm of colors, and the earth began to shake. The prince's horse reared up in terror, and tried to run, paying no heed when the prince pulled at the reins. Then a chasm opened at the horse's feet, and horse and prince tumbled in together, screaming.

The chasm closed, and all was normal again. Except for hoofprints that led to the midst of a meadow and vanished, it was as if the horse and rider had never been.

***

The scene vanished from the focusing crystal as the woman leaned back. Her apprentice, Joraine, asked, "Did you have to kill him?"

Amaldis turned. She was a stout woman of peasant stock, appearing to be a well-cared-for dowager of over 40 or so, with wavy black hair and blazing black eyes. The fire in those eyes died slightly, to be replaced by sorrow, as she spoke.

"Sometimes it can be avoided," she told Joraine, a large-boned woman in her late twenties or early thirties. "But not this time. You heard him. I tried to get him to turn back, but no. He was bound and determined to die gloriously."

"It seems so cruel," Joraine said. "All these brave young men, in the prime of their lives..."

"Yes. It is cruel, and a waste. But it's them or us. If they had their way, they would make you a serf; condemn you to backbreaking labor all your life, with only the bare necessities of life in return. Some would demand the right to rape you on your wedding night, or whenever you took their fancy; others would allow their priests to torture you for refusing to spout their doctrines; still others would conscript your sons to die in their wars." Amaldis shook her head. "Sooner or later, a group of these young heroes will come together and raise a truly massive army, perhaps a thousand men or more. That will be tragic. Because my powers won't be enough to hold them off entirely; and our people will have to fight and die."

"Why do they keep coming if you keep killing them?"

"You heard the one just now. Honor and glory are worth more than their lives, and they think we stole their land."

"We did steal their land."

"Who gave them the right to own it?" Amaldis looked hard at Joraine, and some of the fire came back to her eyes. "We asked people if they wanted to be ruled by lords, or if they wanted to rule themselves. They wanted to rule themselves, so we extended the borders of Cythia to their areas and let them. As far as I'm concerned, the land belongs to the people who work it, not the nobles who get fat off it."

"Yes, but I'm saying, from their point of view we stole it."

"Yes. And so they'll never leave us alone." She sighed. "That's why I want you a master sorceress as soon as possible, Joraine. Our defenses are strong, but they all rest on me, and I'm only one woman. The most powerful sorceress in the world will still die if someone gets close enough to put a crossbow bolt through her throat."

"We have a militia, Amaldis. They'd die to defend you, and so would I. Anybody in Cythia would-- all of us love you."

"But everyone else in the world is trying to kill me."

"Don't talk like that!" Joraine got up, distressed, and looked down at Amaldis. "Remember the First Rule? 'When a magician and a swordsman fight, the magician will always win, provided she is smarter.' You're certainly smarter."

"Amend that rule. 'Provided she is smarter and makes no mistakes.' I'm 200 years old, Joraine, and I'm tired of being paranoid. I'm tired of constantly scanning to see if anyone is after me. But I can never stop, because if I die, Cythia dies with me. Unless you can protect it."

"I'm only 35," Joraine said quietly. "You've got 8 score more years of power built up in you. Even when I turn master in a few years, I won't have nearly the power you do." She walked around to Amaldis and put her arms around her mentor's shoulders. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes..." Amaldis stared into space. "I've had a premonition."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. Something terrible. I don't know..."

Abruptly, awkwardly, Joraine hugged Amaldis. "I won't let it," she whispered fiercely. "Nothing's going to happen to you, so long as I have breath in my body to prevent it. You're the only mother I ever had, Amaldis, and I won't let you die."

***

Mor rode through the fields and woods of Cythia, heading steadily for the capital.

He was a big, brawny, barbarian type, proficient in any weapon but best with his broadsword, which was unbelievably large. He came from a country many, many miles away, where he had successfully killed over a dozen magic-wielders. He had also been offered the position of heir to the kingdom of Lowellan, if he could kill the sorceress Amaldis. And he had no doubts about his ability to do so.

All this Amaldis could gather just from watching him through the focusing crystal. It had been three days since the last prince had come, and she'd dispatched him; three days since she'd told Joraine about her premonition. A chill went down her spine, watching Mor ride. Something about his aura frightened her terribly. A dangerous man, moreso than any of the others. She was tempted to kill him now, without even trying to persuade him to turn back. But she had vowed she would always give them a chance.

So she focused herself, and appeared as an astral image, as solid as flesh but less real, standing in front of his horse's path. The horse didn't even slow down. It kept trotting on as if it would run her down, and Mor made no attempt to stop it.

Hastily she stepped back from its path. If it went through her, it would do her no harm-- but it would reveal her as an illusion. "Will you stop, Mor, and listen to what I have to say?" she said.

"There is nothing I need to hear from old women," he said.

Well. That settled it, then. She had given him a chance, and he had spit in her face.

Amaldis came back to herself, letting her astral image vanish. She looked deep into the crystal, focused, and spoke a Word. It resonated in the air around her. The resonation through the crystal was even greater. There, the Word whipped the trees and caused the ground to shake.

Mor's mount stood firm, holding in one place as Mor stroked its head. When the chasm started to open, the horse bolted as fast as it could go in the opposite direction, which happened to be the direction of the city. The chasm stopped widening before it could catch up to the fleeing beast, the power of the Word spent, and Mor and his animal made all possible speed for the city.

Amaldis threw another chasm in their way. They leapt it, outran its expansion, and kept going. She summoned demonic familiars and hobgoblins to waylay them. Mor slew them all. She cast illusions, which Mor paid little to no attention to; she summoned elementals, which Mor defeated; and she threw murderous obstacles in his path, which he destroyed, overcame, or bypassed. Amaldis had never seen anything like it. The man was at the outskirts of the city already, and still moving. Nothing magical had done more than slow him, and she was exhausted from rapid spellcasting.

Grieving in her heart, she called for a messenger, and told him to tell the militia about the threat. Good men and women would die at Mor's hands, she knew, and if it were merely her own life at stake, she would gladly die in their place. But she was founder, governor and defender of Cythia. Without her, morale would be destroyed, the government would become unstable, and Cythia would be wide open and vulnerable to whatever conqueror wanted to take it.

In her crystal, she watched as the militia went forth. Then she began preparing for the possibility that Mor would reach her. She set up some powerful and terrible binding spells, summoned a few invincible creatures from the lower planes, and set them to guard her door. Then she sent a messenger to Joraine.

"Tell her I want her to go to the belltower and prepare a Spell of Unbinding of Truths," she told the messenger. "When it's complete, I'll examine it." This particular spell took several hours to complete, and required its caster's full attention. Joraine had been telling the truth, 3 days ago-- she would even sacrifice her own life to preserve Amaldis'. Which would leave Cythia without a sorceress, if both of them were killed. Joraine had to be tricked into leaving the battlefield before the fight began.

That done, Amaldis turned to watch the battle in her crystal.

The militia were getting decimated. Amaldis sucked in her breath. How was this possible? Few of them were very good swordsmen, and Mor was the best of the best, yes. But still. It was impossible that one man could be doing such damage, and taking so little in return. One man, and not a magic-user at that. It wasn't even an enchanted blade he held-- Mor's contempt for magic was legendary. Without assistance from magic, it was just not conceivable that one man, no matter how skilled, could cut his way through an army, no matter how green. And yet Mor was doing it.

He had to be getting some sort of secret assistance. Amaldis focused in, looking for an invisible familiar, an enchanted item, something. There was nothing so obvious. If he had magical assistance, it was subtle and ran very deep. Sick at heart, Amaldis forced herself to watch the slaughter of her people. Here is your noble glory, all you young heroes. Here is what you wanted!

When she felt strong enough, she struck again, after sending a messenger ordering the decimated remains of the militia to retreat. It looked as if Mor would pursue them, and continue the combat until they were all dead, but he changed his mind when she called a thunderstorm down on him, as if remembering that she was his real opponent.

She rained lightning at him, but somehow, impossibly, he always managed to avoid them, fortuitiously moving at the same split-second she initiated the bolt. As he headed deeper and deeper into the city, people fled, knowing from the stormcloud that their governor was trying to stop the man, and failing. Amaldis sent all sorts of creatures at him. He killed them all, and kept coming. Even when one of her creatures managed to kill his horse, he leapt off the beast and kept coming.

If he were not in her city, she could swallow him with a chasm now, or put a ring of fire around him-- without his horse, he was more vulnerable. But this was her place, and she couldn't cause such damage to it. She notified the palace guard that he was coming, hoping desperately that he would be tired from the constant fighting, and easier to take down. She had given the guard strict instructions that if casualties were too heavy, they were to flee. But she didn't truly believe they would obey.

The palace guard met and fought Mor. He was still impossibly skilled-- his battles seemed to have barely blunted his edge. Again, Amaldis scanned him for magic, and this time she did catch a faint whiff. Quickly she focused her probe, sweeping him up and down, but at this range it still eluded her. When he got closer, perhaps she would be able to find it, and negate it; but of course, when he got closer she would have other things to worry about.

She began to scream into the crystal, ordering the guard to retreat, as Mor destroyed them. She appeared to them astrally, pleading with them to run and save themselves, but they ignored her. Mor was only a swordsman-- they should be able to take him down. The fact that they obviously couldn't meant nothing, when it was honor at stake. Tears burned in her eyes. How many more good people would die for honor's damnable sake?

Now nearly all her guard were dead. Amaldis steeled herself. He was coming this way. One way or another, even if he kills me, he won't live to enjoy his victory.

Then the door slammed open, and slammed shut behind as Mor strode into Amaldis's chamber.

"Time for you to die, witch," he said, advancing on her.

Amaldis released the demon guard. Invincible and tireless, the two launched themselves at him, battering him. The air rang with the clash of his sword on their metallic armor. While he was occupied with that, Amaldis searched him magically-- and finally found what she was looking for. There was a magical luck charm on him, cast before his birth, woven throughout his entire being. He had never failed at anything. And there was no way to remove the charm, not without negating her own power.

At this point, Mor defeated the invincible demons by thrusting his sword's point into their mouths. That shouldn't have killed them. But by now, Amaldis knew that the universe was on Mor's side. If an improbable occurrence was necessary for his survival, it would happen. If an impossible occurrence, even, was necessary, it would happen.

How could she defeat someone like that?

She spoke a Word, to activate a binding spell. He hated magic so much-- if she could make him see that he was using magic, perhaps he could renounce the spell, or perhaps he would leave her alone. It was not very likely, but the only other alternative was to negate all magic, and that would destroy her power, too. The spell caught Mor tight, holding him motionless. He struggled against the spell, as Amaldis spoke coldly. "You have such contempt for magic. But you yourself are a magic-user, Mor of Savann."

"You lie, witch," he grated out.

"No lie. How do you think it's possible that one lone man can kill over 50? That you miraculously survived everything I attacked you with? It's impossible. No one else has gotten even as far as the city, much less the palace, except for you--"

She sensed the bonds shattering before it happened. Somehow, he had broken her binding spell by flexing his muscles. That's not possible! Amaldis thought, and then remembered that Mor's luck charm could do the impossible. She leapt out of the way as he grasped his sword and swung it at her.

Amaldis cried a Word of power, and a bolt of light flashed out from her fingertips-- but he dodged. The laws of reality seemed to be breaking down to accomodate him. She threw up a magical shield, and his broadsword cut it in half. That wasn't possible, either.

Amend the rule, she thought, gasping, as she dodged another broadsword swing at her head. The magician will always win, provided the sword-wielding barbarian doesn't have magic of his own. It was getting harder to dodge, and there were fewer places to dodge to. Amaldis truly understood then that no magic could stop him. Even a sudden death spell would unravel against the luck charm placed on him. There was only one thing that could possibly work, and the notion filled her with horror.

There was a secret spell, jealously guarded by the few magicians who knew it. It was a last-resort weapon in magical combat, intended to take one's enemy down with one. The secret spell consisted of a single spoken Word, which could negate all magic within a certain radius. Mor was certainly within that radius. Unfortunately, by definition, so was the caster-- which was why it was a weapon of last resort. Amaldis had built up a great deal of power in 200 years. If she negated Mor's advantage, she lost all of that power, which might end up dooming Cythia as surely as if she died. And without her magic, she would be no match for him in combat anyway.

The sword smashed her crystal, scattering pieces everywhere, as she ducked behind it. Then there was a wall at her back, and nowhere to dodge to. Terror gripped her-- this was it. Only one chance-- and even that was more likely to see her avenged than saved. But it would be enough to be avenged, if that was all she could have.

She said the Word.

The magic drained out of the air. Amaldis sagged against the wall, feeling suddenly a thousand years old. For the first time, she could hear the pounding on the door, and realized it had been going on for some time.

Mor hesitated. He had sensed the change, apparently, though doubtless he couldn't understand what it signified. In that moment of hesitation, Amaldis flung herself to the side, and so when the broadsword came down it pierced through her shoulder, slicing away her arm, not her head. Amaldis screamed.

The door slammed open behind Mor, and there was a flash of light. Mor dropped, an expression of disbelief on his face. With rapidly glazing eyes, Amaldis saw through the pain that Joraine was running toward her. Then it became too dark to see anymore.

***

Amaldis wakened to the sound of Joraine weeping. "It can't be too late," Joraine was saying. "Come on, heal, Amaldis, heal! Please!"

Amaldis swallowed, and croaked in a hoarse voice, "I seem not to be dead. How surprising."

"You're back!" Joraine wiped her eyes and looked at Amaldis. "I brought you back! Oh thank you, Goddess, thank you, thank you..." She hugged Amaldis and began to weep again, this time for joy.

But as memory filtered back, Amaldis could see little cause to be joyful. She was alive, yes, and Mor was dead... but the cost had been her power. The only defense Cythia had had to keep it from a bloody war, and being overrun and conquered, had been her power. And now it was gone.

Tears welled in her eyes. After all her hard work, all the energy and enthusiasm her people had expended to make her dream a reality, one man with a magic charm could bring it all crashing down. What was the point to living, if her dream was dead? In a voice like ash, she said, "Joraine, my powers..."

Joraine lifted her head and looked down at her. "I know. I know."

"Cythia is finished." There was no strength, no life in her voice, just ruins and despair.

"No-- there's a way. There has to be a way."

"That's wishful thinking. " Amaldis changed the subject. "How did you find me? I told you to prepare a Spell of Unbinding..."

"The guard-- what was left of it-- broke in and told me you were fighting with that creature." Joraine's voice had an edge of fury to it. "I couldn't get the door open, at first--"

"His luck charm. It must have kept the door locked."

"When I got it open and saw he'd cut off your arm-- I almost went berserk. But it's all right now. I healed you. Your arm's fine."

"My arm's irrelevant, Joraine. My magic is gone. Without that..."

"No! We can buy time. We can keep going on a bluff for a while. I won't let your dream die like this!"

"Buy time for what?" Amaldis wanted to be swept away by Joraine's youthful determination, but 200 years of experience had told her that when something was doomed, it was doomed. There was nothing they could do. "It'll be another hundred years before you're powerful enough to defend Cythia by yourself..."

"Then we can't rely so much on magic. We need to find other solutions." Joraine got up off the bed. "We can buy time, like I said. And in that time, we can recruit more people. We can train all our citizens to fight and defend the country if they have to. We can try to recruit another magician. If we could get two or three magicians my age, we could all band together. Besides. Once people hear you killed Mor, they won't be eager to try you for some time. No one needs to know you're injured-- and as long as they send in their heroes one at a time, we can pick them off ourselves, the militia and I. We can send emissaries to other countries, and see if they have superior weapons or magical techniques we can use. There are all sorts of things we can try, Amaldis. You can't give up!"

"I'm old," Amaldis said softly. "I had a dream once, a revolutionary new idea, when I was young. But I'm no revolutionary anymore."

"You can't give up--"

"No. I'm not giving up. I'm passing the torch to you." Amaldis forced herself to a sitting position. The change made her dizzy and she swayed. Joraine quickly moved to prop pillows behind her. "You're right, of course. I'll continue to govern Cythia and to teach you magic-- I still know the techniques, I simply haven't got the power for them anymore. But you'll be in charge of devising our defense, Joraine. You're young and creative enough to see new ways of doing things. I can't anymore."

"I don't think you're as old and decrepit as you think you are, Amaldis," Joraine said. "Is this because you lost your magic?"

"Yesterday, for all my years, I was a young woman. Today I feel older than time itself. It has to be you, Joraine. I-- lost something vital when I lost my power, I think. Cythia's future is going to rest on you."

"You should rest," Joraine said, moving the pillows back so Amaldis could lay down. "Go to sleep. You'll feel better when you're recovered."

"I doubt it," Amaldis said softly, but allowed Joraine to put her to bed. The last thing she saw, through slitted eyes near the edge of sleep, was Joraine sitting by her bed. Her face seemed to Amaldis to look like her own had, when she was only thirty and had grandiose dreams for saving the world. Yes. The torch was in capable hands.

Amaldis slept.

#52 project #magic #wizards vs barbarians #democracy and self-rule vs landed interests and their mercs

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thistreasurehunter · 3 years

Text

Push and Slide

Summary: JJ helps Pope get that sweet, sweet relief.

Genre: Smut.

**FURTHER DETAILS AND WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT**

WARNING: Adult content (18+ only please). JJ gives Pope a blumpkin. So... kinky smut. Although - because it’s still me - I have written this in the most romantic/tasteful way possible. But if this doesn’t sound like your thing, please don’t read on.

A/N: All characters are aged 18+.

Word length: 1.5k

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Outer Banks characters or settings.

*****************************************************

This, Pope though gloomily, was just downright uncomfortable. He shifted his feet on the tiles, raising up onto the balls of his feet to lift his knees, trying to find a better position. He took a deep breath and then strained again. Nothing.

He let his bare feet slap back down onto the bathroom floor, exhaling with a grimace. This was the third day in a row, Pope thought miserably. Three days of feeling heavy, bloated and frustrated. His sphincter clenched involuntarily and he could feel the stubborn, solid mass just inside the entrance to his rectum.

That’s it, he sighed wearily, next time we go grocery shopping I’m buying some bran flakes or something. I don’t care if JJ laughs at me and makes old man jokes, I clearly need more fibre in my diet. Besides, this situation is hardly ideal for either of us.

Last night, while the two of them had been fooling around in bed, JJ had licked the shell of his ear, slid his hand down between Pope’s legs and then asked quietly, in a low voice heavy with lust, “Pope, can I be on top tonight?”

Pope’s face had twisted in discomfort. He was painfully aware of his boated abdomen and his uncomfortable fullness.

“Umm,” he’d said awkwardly “can we do something else instead?” And, of course, JJ had just agreed straight away, without trying to change Pope’s mind. Like always. Because he was respectful of Pope, in a way that Pope hadn’t thought was possible before he met JJ. Until then, Pope hadn’t thought he was worthy of such respect.

But JJ so very rarely asked to top. Not with words, not like that. So, he must have really been in the mood, Pope thought. And Pope had turned him down. Because of this.

Pope screwed up his eyes at the memory. “Dammit,” he grunted in frustration, “come on!” He clenched his face and tried pushing and straining again.

And it was right at that moment that JJ walked in.

“JJ!” Pope yelped, his face turning bright red. “JJ, I’m… I’m just…” he spluttered self-consciously. “The bathroom’s… occupied,” he finished lamely.

JJ rolled his eyes and then smiled down at Pope, who was valiantly trying to look as composed as possible, while sitting on the toilet with his trousers around his ankles. “I can see that, Pope” he said lightly, “but I want to give you a blowjob.”

Pope spluttered again.

“No need,” JJ said briskly.

He dropped to his knees in front of Pope, gave his firm thigh a reassuring pat, then took hold of Pope’s flaccid penis and started rubbing.

“JJ…” Pope said uneasily.

“Just relax,” JJ replied, gently pushing Pope to lean back again the raised lid. Then he nudged Pope’s legs further apart and leaned down and took Pope into his mouth.

Pope blinked, looking down at JJ incredulously.

“You really are something else, you know that?” He said fondly, running his fingers through JJ’s wild, silky hair. JJ just hummed in reply.

Pope leaned back and took a deep breath. JJ’s mouth felt amazing, as always. But this time, it also felt kind of weird. He was very aware of where they were, the porcelain bowl he was sitting over and what he’d been trying to do only a moment ago.

JJ worked Pope’s length with a skill borne of much practice, setting a decidedly slow and sweetly gratifying rhythm. Pope sighed again and then slowly started rocking his hips in gentle participation.

Suddenly, JJ’s head came up and he detached from Pope’s cock with a wet pop.

“No,” he said simply. The tiny frown lines that appeared between his eyebrows made him look almost comically disgruntled. “I told you to relax, Pope. Just sit back and take it.”

“Ummm… okay,” Pope said again, more than a little perplexed.

“Just completely relax,” JJ said earnestly. And with that, he lent forwards and took Pope back into his mouth.

Pope sighed and cleared his mind, letting the sensations overtake him. Okay, he though, I’m not entirely sure where this is all coming from, but he is right, this does feel nice.

Pope sat back and let JJ pleasure him with his mouth, consciously unclenching all the tightness he held in his muscles – his shoulders, his jaw, his thighs, his stomach. He felt loose… free… weightless.

Suddenly, Pope felt his sphincter relax and the swooping twist in his stomach that always preceded a bowel movement.

“Stop! Stop!” Pope cried urgently.

JJ popped his head up again.

“What?” JJ said, his chin shinning with saliva, looking up at Pope with his large, blue eyes.

Pope swallowed uncomfortably, his cheeks heating up. “I…” he started awkwardly. “I felt like… like I was going to… you know… go” he finished, mortified.

JJ rolled his eyes fondly. “Well, yeah, Pope,” he smiled from between Pope’s spread thighs, “that’s kind of the point.”

“What?” Pope said. Rather eloquently – he thought – considering the situation.

JJ shrugged and looked up at him affectionately.

“You’ve been pretty constipated recently, haven’t you?” he said.

“Umm, yeah, I guess” Pope reluctantly agreed.

“You definitely have,” JJ confirmed.

“How can you be so sure?” Pope asked, furrowing his brows slightly.

“Oh, please, Pope” JJ huffed. “We’ve been together so long, by this point I probably know your body better than I know my own.”

“Fair enough” Pope conceded.

“And,” JJ carried on, “it’s been making you feel crap.” Pope could only nod weakly. “Well,” JJ said with a smile, “I’m in the business of making Pope feel good and also making sure Pope doesn’t feel crap. So…” he gestured their current position.

“Really?” Pope asked, looking down at him with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t it just a bit… I dunno… icky?”

JJ actually laughed out loud at that. “After all the stuff we’ve done together, Pope?”

Pope sighed and closed his eyes in defeat.

“Okay,” he said slowly, looking back down at JJ. “But afterwards, if this ends up being gross, just remember you asked for it.”

“Don’t worry, Pope,” JJ grinned, giving Pope’s leg another reassuring squeeze. “I promise, from the look on my face afterwards, anyone would swear your shit smelled like roses.” Then he winked and took Pope back into his mouth.

Pope huffed a laugh and let JJ push him back into a reclined position. He breathed deeply and allowed himself to relax again. JJ brought his hand up and lightly rested in on Pope’s lower abdomen, gently rubbing in soothing circles. Pope couldn’t help but smile.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of JJ’s mouth; on the pleasure radiating from the hot, wet slide of his lips. One area at a time, he consciously released the tension he held in his muscles: his face, his jaw, his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs. He breathed deeply. He felt weightless and floaty and calm and aroused and open and relaxed. And finally, there it was. He felt that familiar swooping sensation in his bowels, a build of pressure and then the delicious slide, as the solid mass slowly began moving down his passage and sliding out of his body.

Pope let out a long, loud moan of relief. It felt so good, he wasn’t even ashamed of the embarrassingly loud splash that followed a moment later.

Pope felt JJ stretch a smile around his cock before picking up the pace and bobbing his head faster. Still riding the high, and feeling gloriously light and empty, Pope absentmindedly threaded his fingers back into JJ’s hair and played with the silky strands until, finally, JJ tipped him over the edge and he came hard, pulsing thickly and releasing down JJ’s throat.

After a final, affectionate lick, JJ raised his head and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He was grinning from ear to ear, a smug expression plastered on his face.

Pope rolled his eyes as he looked down at him, but he also couldn’t help the flutter he felt in his heart at the sight of the incredible, wonderful, unbelievable man he was lucky enough to be sharing his life with.

“Okay, fine” Pope sighed in a mock begrudging tone. “You were right, that felt amazing.” Then he added sincerely, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” JJ grinned. “So,” he added after a beat, raising an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eyes. “How do you feel about returning the favor?”

#jjpope #mayward #jj maybank #pope heyward #fic

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belit0 · 4 years

Text

Make sure he never comes back.

Rated: T

Pairings: I’m not spoiling that in this first edition, so if anyone is interested in more from this story, I’ll give that away ;)

I got inspired from a writting prompt, and this was born:

The Land of the Uchihas imposed itself disgustingly throughout the entire Fire Nation, dominating and conquering with force and terror. Small kingdoms and peoples who tried to rise up against their power were subdued, humiliated, stripped of everything they ever possessed. Those who accepted the inevitable with peace and without a fight, found a more relaxed destiny, without being treated like animals for the rest of their lives.

At the beginning of their reign, the Uchihas had been a stable clan, which showed no interest in expanding beyond the lands they owned. Owners of great luxury, they lived in harmony with their exuberant wealth. Reserved, secretive and stoic, no one knew that mysteries were unveiled within the great gates of their village. They did not admit foreigners or people from outside their clan, but neither did they attack anyone who dared to approach them. They were peaceful.

Everything had changed when another clan of the Fire country, the Senju, decided to dominate all the lands around them. Ruthlessly, they murdered all their opponents without a hitch until they encountered an imposing and unexpected enemy, the Uchihas. They would not allow their legacy to fall so easily into the cruel hands of those barbarians. These two groups shared more pain, agony and history than just the dispute over ground; they were related.

With passion and vigour, both families fought their way through a heated struggle that lasted three sunsets and four moon deaths. By the end of the war, the leader of the Uchiha, Indra, all powerful and praised by his followers, had fallen to the sword of his brother, Ashura, leader of the enemy clan. Before receiving reprisals from the surviving Uchihas, he himself fled, ordering a hasty retreat, rejoicing in the victory he was taking from the encounter. The death of his older brother, his only brother, meant nothing to him, and pleasure ran through his veins in the knowledge that he had fallen before the grace of his weapon.

However, Indra’s son, Uchiha Madara, heir to the leadership that his father’s death brought, had seen his progenitor’s death from the front line, and had been unable to act to save him. At only sixteen, the dark-haired teenager had been paralysed by the terror of the scene. His uncle, cold and disheartened, pierced his father with his sword, from his chest to the other end.

When the Senju retreated, panic crept into his system, and Madara ran to the dejected body of his only direct family. He knew he had a younger brother, but he never knew what had become of him. He had not had the pleasure of meeting him, but he had always fantasized about the situation. For some reason, the clan was forbidden to talk about it, and the information was not accessible. He withdrew the blade from the man’s chest, and tried to cover the bleeding wound. It was a clean, side-to-side incision. The amber liquid ran down the torso, soaking the hands of the young man, who was frantically trying to save his father from eternal darkness.

“Son, cease your action. My departure is inevitable.”

Squinting, Indra watched his eager offspring, who struggled to keep him alive. His time was not long, but he was proud to have instilled such passion in the child he had raised. If only he could have saved his other son…

“Father! Don’t abandon me! I beg you…”

“…Child, perpetuate your walk on the path of compassion…justice…evoke the love that I profess to you when the road becomes difficult…do not follow in the footsteps of Ashura…and find him…find your brother…Izuna…”

His last breath left his lungs, as his eyes closed for the last time.

“FATHER! NO!”

After Madara took power, darkness rained down on Uchiha’s land. No one understood what had changed inside the boy, who was once a sweet and gentle kid with the entire clan. Now, he showed himself to be an archaic person and refused to receive contact with anyone. He had inaugurated his first act as a leader by commanding a fierce invasion of the Senju Lands. Not only had they been victorious, but he had cut off Ashura’s head himself and impaled it on the doors of their village as a warning.

Whoever messed with Madara would meet the same fate.

For years, this leader’s empire just grew and grew. His tyranny soon flooded every corner of the nation, forcing, coercing and subduing anyone who crossed his path. The characteristic symbol of this bloodthirsty family, the malevolent red and white fan, spread out gloriously and infamously in the form of flags, plaguing every place where a town or village once resided.

At the age of 23, Madara was staying in the capital of his kingdom, coordinating from the comfort of the main palace the few remaining invasions to completely dominate the entire region. But his mind found little interest in conquest. In fact, establishing himself as the supreme king of the area had never mattered to him. Since his inevitable assumption of power, his only goal had fallen on his father’s last words.

‘Izuna…’ was the only word that resonated in the back of his mind. That name, that beautiful name, meant hope.

“Lord… Are you here with us?” One of his advisors brought him out of his absence, and forced him back into reality. He was meeting with the honorable members of his personal council. Also present was the captain of the military troops belonging to the capital, who directed orders to the barracks located throughout the country in the smaller Uchiha villages that had been founded after each conquest.

Madara observed other unknown faces, but he played down their importance. The last time he had been able to recognize all the members of his clan was when his father was still the leader. Walking the length of the long table where the meeting was taking place, all eyes were on him, waiting for an answer that he was unaware of. He had been fantasizing throughout the discussion. With his arms folded over his chest, one leg crossed over the other, his head held high in front of him, he responded monosyllabically, a sound that always saved him when he was caught off guard.

“Hm.” Nervous glances met each other over their teacups as the murmur echoed again from the meeting room. Easily, he was absent again in the freedom of his imagination, fascinated by the ease with which he could enter that world of fantasy. A world that usually belongs only to children. But his childhood had been corrupted by a lost brother… Izuna.

When the session was over, Madara was motionless in his seat. Imitating his action, the captain of the military forces, remained unmoving in his position, accustomed to that routine. Both waited for the room to empty before speaking.

"My lord, I am afraid to announce the lack of progress in the mission you have given me. My fittest men and I have ridden without ceasing for weeks and…”

“Are you telling me there’s no sign of him?”

“My lord… my convictions… I dare to declare that your brother must have died by now…”

He could not finish speaking, for from where Madara sat, a knife flew without warning, and was mercilessly thrust into the man’s eye. He was an expert in cutting weapons, and never missed a chance to practice on live targets. No one could talk about his brother in that way. Ever since he became a leader, Izuna’s quest was an ever-present mission. The entire Fire Nation had been scoured, searched for in every corner by that young Uchiha that no one knew about and had never been seen.

But Madara was no fool. He knew what his clan thought. He knew that they thought him insane for searching so hard for a person who resembled a ghost. The resources devoted to tracking down his brother were incalculable, to the extent that the Uchiha were at a financial low, never before reached by his predecessors, thanks to him.

He could hear the servants rumouring about how he had lost his mind. He could hear his men doubting his ability to carry them through. His family, the legacy his father had given him at the cost of his blood, was now beginning to turn its back on him. All they wanted was the total conquest of the region. To receive the unpleasant title of supreme leader. None of that mattered in his life, for what he wanted most was to regain what he had never been able to have.

Despite the differences he had with the people he was leading, as he no longer considered it right to call them relatives, he was aware that he needed his position as a ruler to get the help of the clan, and thus find the whereabouts of Izuna. His brother’s story was still a mystery. No one knew what had become of him after his birth, no one had seen him, no one could describe his appearance. A needle in a haystack. And although in the back of his mind the word ‘dead’ flickered with dazzling lights, he refused to pay attention to it. He would spend his whole life searching for him if necessary.

—————————————-

Facing a new dawn, Madara’s horse rode bravely before his commands, guiding the military formation that followed behind him. The Uchiha travelled at great speed from the capital to one of the newly opened villages, located almost on the border of the land of fire and wind. Carrying swords, bows and arrows, shields with the clan’s emblem, they hurried through the rising heat, wearing gleaming black armor. They covered the entire torso, shoulders, and the front and back of the legs. Combat sandals, suitable for the need for skill, could be seen on the warriors’ feet.

The leader of the troop, distinguishing himself from the others, wore a long black cape attached to the shoulders of his armor, identifying him as the head of the squadron. After coldly annihilating the former commander in the meeting room, Madara had decided to personally take charge of the military section. His long dark hair cascaded down his back, dancing uncontrollably in the face of the horse’s revolutions and the wind. The urgent hurry was due to the announcement of a runway that had arrived in the capital that morning, carried by a messenger hawk. The leader of the location to which they were travelling, reported having found conclusive information about the famous “Izuna” and demanded the immediate presence of Madara to verify the veracity of the facts.

When they woke him up and he personally read the message that the pale and breathless maid had brought him, his heart beat as fast as when he saw his father die in front of his eyes. Putting together a team and having them travel that distance from one moment to the next was risky and extremely rushed, but the expectation consumed him and the urge to find out what that clue was was too much to hope for.

When he was forced to rest because the night was falling on them, anger took hold of him in such a pure way that he had to get away from the whole group so as not to kill them on the forest floor. He made up his personal sleeping space at a great distance from his men, knowing that it was unlikely that he would encounter any thieves or outsiders in the area as it was under his power. He stripped off his armor and did not even bother to set up a proper shelter for the early morning hours. Wearing the black clothes, he always wore under his war protection, he placed the shield of his torso on the grass and laid his head on it, using it as a pillow.

He relaxed by looking at the green leaves on the trees, feeling the breeze playing with his loose hair. Before he knew it, he was fantasizing. He thought of arriving in that village and meeting a young Uchiha, his brother. His only remaining relative, who would accompany him for the rest of his life. He would not have to be alone anymore. Eventually, amidst emotions, happiness and dreams, darkness lulled him to the land of rest, and he managed to sleep.

But he had made a mistake in thinking that he was alone.

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When he woke up, he felt happily renewed, ready to reach that blissful place and discover that mystery. But unfortunately, he was not in the forest. The sounds of nature did not reach his ears, the morning breeze did not blow on his senses. Something was wrong. Reluctantly, he wanted to open his eyes, only to realize that, even if he tried, the world was still dark around him.

He did not allow despair to grow inside him, years of war, fighting and training had shaped him into a warrior fit to face any scenario. He tried to move his hands, to bring them to his face to confirm that his eyesight was covered by something, but discovered that he was chained. Handcuffs were tight and constricting, hugging his wrists. He tested the range of motion, and noticed that he could move his arms at least a little forward. He was not totally restricted.

He lifted one leg, confirming the theory that he also had shackles on his ankles. Again, a small range of motion was granted to him. He was sitting against a cold, solid wall with all his limbs tied off and deprived of his sight.

He could only hear, smell at the very least. The rage of being held against his will one step away from finding information about the man he had sought for so many years consumed him in an inexplicable way, but he could not afford to act recklessly and ruin his chances of escape because of his impulses.

He waited, waited and waited, still in the cold, secret place, unanswered and boiling inside. He had no idea how much time had passed, what time of day it was, what had become of his troop. The unknowns overwhelmed his head when a sound took him out of his anxiety. Without conveying any emotion to the outside world and determined to be indecipherable to his captors, he heard footsteps coming down a long staircase. Then the person walked down what he thought was a corridor, until it got closer and closer to him. The footsteps stopped, and the rumble of a heavy titanium door being opened was heard throughout the room where he was being held.

“I apologize, my King, for the lack of decorum on the occasion… unbecoming of our usual action. But… before one such as you, Lord Uchiha, we cannot take risks, I hope you understand.”

A female voice spoke from somewhere in the room. He could tell that the woman was standing in front of him by the direction of the sound, and from the information provided, she was some kind of thief; probably, a group of them. He would remain silent, and would not offer compromising information to his enemy. Not because he cared about his clan, but because of the custom of wartime. Once again, he felt like a teenager, where he was targeted because he was the leader’s son. Today, however, he was the leader.

“Did the cat eat your tongue, My Lord?”

Internally he found it amusing to think that this should be taken as an insult. The woman he was dealing with seemed to have no desire to mistreat or torture.

“…Man of few words… Blessed. The payment for your ransom should be coming any minute, Lord Uchiha. You will be free then.”

With that said, the woman’s footsteps were heard again, moving away from him calmly. The door resounded thunderously after a few seconds, and as it closed, the footsteps continued down the corridor that he sensed following. The footsteps disappeared behind the many steps a moment later.

Abduction for profit’ had been delayed by something as banal as materials. He felt insulted, anger threatened to show itself, to glow through his strength and to tear off the chains that kept him confined to that place. But that, he had to admit, as incredibly tempting as it was, was also incredibly stupid. When the Uchiha paid the ransom, he would be released peacefully and could finish the journey to the village quietly, assuming that the group holding him was large enough to rule over that area.

He.Just.Had.To.Wait.

And so, it was. He ate the ration of food that was given to him some time later, and felt the hours go by inside him, until eventually sleep overcame him. He was startled when he was awakened by a slight kick in his calf. His body was asleep and cramped, thanks to the lack of movement due to the restriction of the chains. He needed to move, his energy and his mood were deep within him.

Reluctantly, he came back to life when he heard the voice of the same woman speaking to him again. Without warning, he felt a delicate touch over his eyes, and the blindfold that deprived him of his sight was removed. By reflection, he held his eyelids tight to the sudden invasion of light. It was not very strong, for the room where he was imprisoned was dreary and poorly lit, but after being in the darkness for an indefinite time, even the smallest illumination felt enormous.

When he managed to focus his eyes again, he could appreciate the woman in front of him. She was short, with long, long pink hair, reaching down to her lower back. Emerald eyes looked at him intently, and a purple jewel in the shape of a rhombus adorned her forehead. A long black cape with strange red details covered her body, but it opened at the front of her figure to reveal the tight black shirt and dark trousers she wore underneath. The sleeves were so long that Madara could not see her hands, which made him uneasy as he could not see if she was carrying weapons.

“…O my King… My Lord… I have news…”

Slowly, the pink-haired woman moved one of her arms. Alerted, the Uchiha looked intently at her hand, anticipating an attack or an assassination attempt. To his surprise, when the sleek limb was revealed under the long sleeve of her cloak, the only thing that appeared was an envelope. Specifically, marked with the symbol of the Uchiha clan.

Confused and amazed, Madara held the object in the hand where the woman had placed it, as he could not deliberately move them. It was a letter, and it was open.

“I suppose it is a pity for you… My Lord… but we, on the other hand, are wonderfully rich.”

On the paper, it read as follows:

“To whomever this statute has the pleasure of addressing

We cannot ignore the assistance given by you in the removal of Lord Madara

As a token of our gratitude, we sent twice the amount you requested, in exchange for one last favor

Please

Make sure he never comes back to us.

-The Honorable Uchiha Council”

The words his eyes saw broke the last barrier of self-control he had left, and he couldn’t help but explode at that very moment. His family had taken the opportunity of his abduction to get rid of him. They were using this group of thugs to see that his presence was eradicated. It was an insult to his father, to him. To his brother.

The chains on his wrists came off the wall when, with a battle cry, the Uchiha used all his strength to free himself. Finally, being able to move his arms, he allowed his anger and contained ferocity to run through his veins, without any restrictions. Outside of himself, he lunged at the woman in front of him, and straddling her, he placed his hands around her neck. The force he exerted was too much, and the pink-haired woman soon began to lose the color in her skin and the air in her airways.

“I JUST WANT MY BROTHER!”

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