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#however I think it’s along the lines of Silver being like ‘well… I can’t just leave them in this empty dreamscape…’
renjunnipeikko · 10 months
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Overblots 1-4 for Yuu were like: Yeah I kinda had a hand in this but tbh I maybe did SOME delegation and that’s it, everyone else were the ones doing stuff
But because of that, for Overblots 5-7 they had already been deemed the Overblot Support™️ so even if they didn’t do a damn thing, everyone else was like “no, no. I NEED you”
Yuu has literally just become the emotional support prefect. Do they do anything? No! Is everyone still very insistent on them coming along? Yes!
…they all just need someone to hold them as they go through The Horrors™️
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cxrveaux · 2 months
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Because my dumb bitch ass binge watched CBS ghosts and ended up getting so into it, I made an ENTIRE SELF INSERT OC. (help me.) but now that I’m here on tumblr I might as well rant about said character to anyone interested 💔
His name is Elijah Anderson and he’s some 14 year old from 1999 who had been living in the Bronx before being abandoned on the property by his parents and dying of hypothermia 15 hours later. He’s elusive and has trust issues due to being abandoned by his parents and spent 25 years in the forest around the mansion hence why nobody is really aware of his presence except for Flower who has seen him a couple of times? But she’s kind of ditsy and not entirely there so she doesn’t really bring up/remember to mention him. The way the others probably find out about his presence is due to the fact that Flower was rambling and randomly mentioned “the kid in the woods.”
At first the other ghosts + Sam thought he was a human kid due to his lack of response to Flower’s presence (which wasn’t true, Flower would typically approach Elijah but he’d end up talking her out of being near him because of her short term memory)
But when it became apparent that Jay couldn’t perceive him, the others decided that this definitely was some ghost kid who had been on the property without the others knowing. So, the other ghosts would probably try some wild ass confrontation tactics on him which would probably just drive him away further from them (since he’s already very untrusting)
Eventually they were like “Pete getcho ass out there, you actually worked with children at some point” and even though Elijah was initially weary of him, Pete managed to get some sort of explanation (ex. Him hiding in the forest for so long) and long story short just came back to the mansion. (Got a bit lazy on this part, but it’s 2 am and I’m a sleep deprived 13 year old who doesn’t know how to write, bite me)
BUT…I did end up writing every single one of his relationships with the other characters so we’re gonna put that on here too 💔
Alberta: She’s surprisingly protective and almost motherly towards Elijah. She’s entertained by him poking fun at people (bonus points if directed at Isaac), and takes pride in his enjoyment of jazz music.
Pete: He’s probably the nicest to Elijah out of everyone. He’s very understanding of his trauma and helped him get more comfortable interacting with the others.
Trevor: They have a fairly strong bond with each other. Elijah is a bit disinterested in his whole “omg women” shtick, but they definitely pull pranks on the others together.
Hetty: She thinks Elijah is a bit abrasive and tries to avoid him mostly, which gave him the idea that she flat out doesn’t like him. This also makes her fall victim to a lot of his and Trevor’s antics.
Isaac: He’s an easy target to Elijah, and probably nothing more (because he’s gay and smelly 💔). However, I did think of an idea of Elijah being a closeted bisexual and turning to Isaac for advice.
Flower: Flower is pretty oblivious to his presence for the most part, even though she was the one who found him while she was frolicking outside. However, I don’t feel like Elijah would pick on her as much? Mainly since he thinks she’s really nice and doesn’t want to deal with Thor.
Thor: He’s definitely the most annoyed by this bitch ass child and would not think TWICE about throwing Elijah out the window. No silver lining, he’s just annoyed by this kid. He consistently also does this thing where he puts him on top of the fridge so he can’t get down unless he jumps off. The only thing I can see those two getting along about is watching bugs.
Sasappis: They probably just tolerate eachother. Sas occasionally will also partake in Trevor and Elijah’s pranks? But Elijah has too much damn respect for him to throw daggers at Sas (also because he knows that Sas knows how to insult people back and doesn’t want to risk that because he’s emotionally unstable)
Nigel: They’re cool with eachother? Like they both enjoy watching bugs (and they both like Spice Girls) but he also probably looks to Nigel for advice.
Nancy: Elijah is TERRIFIED of Nancy along with the other cholera ghosts. If homeboy had the choice between reliving freezing to death and going down into the boiler room, he’d choose death.
and to conclude here’s some extra headcanons about him because I have NOTHING but time.
-He’s constantly trembling uncontrollably as a side effect of being out in the cold for so long.
-His breath fogs up everywhere he goes
-Regardless of whether someone’s a ghost or not, just him being present is like “ayo did it get colder in here?”
-Any living that passes through him becomes inexplicably cold for a short period of time.
-He tends to communicate through ASL because he’s semiverbal anyways and his voice is permanently nasally.
-He is autistic and dyspraxic.
-He REALLY likes Garfield. Like he has encyclopedic knowledge on that damn cat.
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for the prompts to shake things up: 21 with thb and/or anyone else you feel like from at the bureau, if you feel so inclined!
"so it was YOU who took a full bite out of that stick of butter!! please. please. why??" from this prompt list!
Taako can’t stand living with other people.
Eh, that’s a little harsh, he supposes. He can stand it just fine, he just hates it. That’s a little nicer. Probably.
It’s not so much the being around other people he hates, it’s the sharing of space. He’s very particular with how he thinks stuff should be arranged. That’s not such a bad thing, he thinks.
But the communal kitchen thing will probably kill him if it doesn’t kill a colleague first.
He swears he’s the only motherfucker on this moon who has any idea what food safety even is. Every single day he has to remind these dunces that meat can’t defrost on the counter and milk shouldn’t be stored in the door and that you shouldn’t eat two fucking deviled eggs that have been sitting out on a windowsill for gods know how long, are you actually a lunatic?
That’s why he takes advantage of the kitchen at, what some might call, whack ass hours. Nobody to bother him, nobody sniffing around his pots and pans, nobody trying to sneak a bite.
He doesn’t share food and nobody needs to know why.
He’s craving an omelet. A fancy one. One with potatoes. And spinach. And lots of goat cheese. And onions. And garlic.
He’s contemplating more components as he whips his eggs up. As he’s rummaging around one of the cabinets he’s charmed, he idly wonders whose bright idea it was to build a secret moonbase without decent storage in the living spaces. His hand closes around the cool metal of his nice copper pan and he does his best to extract it noiselessly.
He turns the burner on and looks around for his nice butter. They apparently like, sing to the cows or some shit. It’s one of the little luxuries he’ll indulge in since it just makes food taste so much better. When he pulls it out of the fridge, however, he’s horrified to see just how the damn stick’s been brutalized.
He can’t use the rest of the stick, the thought genuinely makes him want to gag. So now he’s out a nice breakfast and a few silver pieces.
Good thing he’s going to be so calm and normal about this butter abuse.
-
Attention all occupants of this dormitory, please make your way to the kitchen ASAP. Or else.
Taako, what are you—
All good here, Madam D, never you mind!
Taako, this is inappropriate use of Bureau—
The intercom cuts off abruptly. Even with having just met the guy, Magnus has a feeling that Taako means business and isn’t keen on waiting. Merle and Robbie stir and make their way to the elevator. On their way down to the kitchen, even more groggy Bureau members step onto the elevator.
Merle and Magnus find themselves quietly humming along to the tune.
They all find Taako standing in the dorm kitchen and scowling. He says nothing for a moment before marching up to Robbie. “Open your mouth.”
He looks down the line at other Bureau members. “Uh, wh—”
“Just show me your teeth and this will be painless,” Taako demands, clutching a stick of butter in other hand.
After a reasonable amount of hesitation, Robbie opens his mouth and grimaces, exposing his teeth.
Taako squints, looking from the butter to Robbie’s mouth and back to the butter. “Close it, you’re clean.”
“Taako, what’re you doing ‘sides freaking out Rusty here?” Merle asks.
“Uh my name’s actually Robbie,” Robbie clarifies before being waved off by Taako.
“Well, Merle, I was just trying to make myself a bangin’ breakfast. Big ol’ omelet with a ton of shit. But do you know what the first step of making an omelet is?” Taako paces up and down the line of Bureau members he’s assembled in the kitchen, smacking the stick of butter in his hand against his palm.
“Cracking some eggs?” Avi ventures. Taako glares at him.
“Cracking some eggs,” Taako repeats, “Is but one of many ‘first steps’ in making an omelet. Don’t ask how there are multiple first steps, I am a wizard and a chef, not a fucking scientist. But perhaps the most important step is putting a big knob of butter in the pan and letting it become nice and foamy. But I can’t do that today! And do any of you care to venture a guess as to why?”
He’s met with blank stares. Typical.
“It’s because one of you has decided to bite into my stick of butter with your gaping wide maw,” Taako hisses.
“Can’t you just like, transmute some more butter or some shit? That way you don’t have to interrogate us at ass-o’clock in the morning?” Killian says flatly.
It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but Taako’s jaw tightens and his eyes harden a little. Whatever comes out of his mouth next is going to be some evasive shit and Magnus knows it. And he’s not sure how.
“It’s about the principle of it all,” Taako deflects. That tracks.
“Wait, I thought we were calling her the Director, not the principal,” Merle interjects.
Taako casts him a withering glare. “Also, who has the spell slots to waste?”
Magnus grimaces and puts his hand up. “Hey, listen, Taako. Don’t be mad—”
“Probably gonna be mad now, my man.”
“—But it was me,” Magnus admits. “You can check it against my teeth or something.”
“I could cast Zone of Truth,” Merle offers.
“Eh, not so sure you should be wasting your spell slots. After all, they’re so helpful when you use them,” Taako says. “Why the actual shit have you done this?”
Magnus looks around sheepishly for a minute. “Well, I was eating this spicy soup, like really spicy, and my mouth was burning and you said that drinking milk straight from the carton was a no go but I also knew that dairy soothed mouth burn.”
Taako doesn’t say anything for a little while. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh that could extinguish a hundred years’ worth of birthday candles. “So instead of drinking milk straight from the carton, you decide to bite my stick of nice butter.”
Magnus nods.
“I hate the moon.” He tosses the stick of butter towards Magnus. “You’re all dismissed, except Magnus who is going to Fantasy Costco, replacing my butter, and dealing with that cat at the cash register.”
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askthestans · 2 years
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Stan and ford pines do you aware that you had fandon of your own who like making fanart about you and do you aware of fanfiction
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Stanley: I dunno, ya might not wanna bring up fanart and Stanfiction in front of Sixer here. Not after the... incident we had a few days ago.
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Stanford: I’ve seen many disturbing things in my life, but that horror we witnessed was beyond even what the nightmare realm could conjure. That’s why I destroyed it.
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Stanley: You’re tellin’ me that you, Dr. Dorktron 3000, who built a portal because ya wanted ‘girls to start talkin' to you finally’, is offended that folks on the internet drew you in a rather generous light, some of them likely including girls? And not just pictures! They write stuff about you, too. I know we skipped out on nearly forty years together, but the Ford I knew as a kid woulda been overjoyed to get that much attention.
Stanford: Yes, but I want adoration for my mind, Stanley! For my contributions to science. My body is merely a vessel for me that I have to maintain on occasion so that I can continue to pursue this world’s mysteries. What use is attention for something I can’t control? I’d rather I be lauded for what I’ve achiev-
Stanley: There it is.
Stanford: What?
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Stanley: *raises voice* Oh internet, don’t make pictures of me! I may be a silver fox and can’t control my studliness, but please notice my big sexy brain instead!
Cut the bull, Ford. Also, you look like me. I don’t mean to brag, but there’s a reason they call me Hunkle Stan. And if the internet can love a chubby old conman like me, well... you’re like the fitter version of that. Put two and two together and it just makes sense.
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*Ford opens his mouth to argue, but pauses. His brown eyes widen and his brows raise, as if realizing something for the first time. The expression quickly leaves, though, replaced by a neutral face. Though anyone looking closely would notice that he is fidgeting with his hands, at first behind his back, then brings them forward and rubs one of his sixth fingers.*
Stanford: *sighs* Alright, fine. I won’t bring out any more nuclear weapons if the internet continues to make art of me... for whatever reason. But it better be fanart that emphasizes my dedication to knowledge, my skill with advanced weaponry, and most importantly, my bold sense of adventure into the world’s greatest - and weirdest - unknowns.
Stanley: A badass, then?
Stanford: A smart badass, to be exact. A scientist who’s as willing to investigate the strange as he is to protect those he loves from it. Something along the lines of this:
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Stanley: Well, internet, you heard the man. Ford wants pictures and stories about being a sci-fi sideburn badass. No more speedos. Though if some were to just happen to show up in my mailbox...
Stanford: Nukes, Stanley.
Stanley: Hey, ‘til you start pitchin' in towards the electricity bill - which is ridiculous thanks to your nerdamagookery downstairs - I’ll do anything I need to to keep this place running. Just think of all the hunkle art and merch we could sell to hordes of fangirls in the gift shop!
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Stanford: Nukes.
Stanley: Pfft, alright, fine! Wet blanket...
---
*That night, Stan walks down the Shack hallway to use the bathroom. However, someone’s inside. Stan is certain it’s Dipper, as he’s the usual culprit when the bathroom is occupied and music is blasting within. However, there’s no BABBA to be heard. Instead, synths and distorted and glitchy sound effects can be heard, as if someone is listening to a science fiction movie soundtrack. A little quieter are the small ‘pew pew’ and explosion noises, obviously made by someone’s mouth.*
Stanley: Hey, Dipper, quit nerdin’ out in there! All that Pitt Cola I drank is kickin’ in and-
*The music stops. Pure silence.*
Dips!?
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*The twins peer around the corner.*
Dipper: Grunkle Stan, I’ve been in the living room for hours.
Mabel: Yeah, we’ve been watching this cool new show called Things are Strange! It’s about this little town in Indiana and there are all these mysteries and hot teenage boys and this cute monster called the Demogorgon!
Stanley: What? Then who...?
*Stan narrows his eyes and puts his fists on his hips.*
Ford? Ford, I know it’s you in there!
Stanford: I’m busy!
Stanley: Even with that permanent stick up your rear I know it doesn’t take ya that long to finish. And what’s with the nerd music? Look, Poindexter, you’ve got to the count of three...
Stanford: Stanley, this is my house! I can stay in my own bathroom for as long as-
Stanley: Two... I’m pullin’ out a bobby pin!
*A loud bang sounds as Ford puts himself up against the door. Stan takes out a bobby pin and unlocks the door faster than what seems physically possible.*
Alright, what are you doin’ in...?
*Stan manages to push the door back to reveal Ford in the bathroom, shirtless but wearing the pants, boots, and oversized goggles he wore when he walked out of the portal a year before. His scars and burns and healed wounds from the other dimensions are on full display. The rifle he had carried back from the portal is wrapped in his arms, as are two of his pistols, latched into hip holsters. His turtleneck and trench coat are nowhere to be found. The only tell of what might have just been going on is that the steam in the mirror from an earlier shower has been wiped away.*
What in the absolute- Ford? What the hell were you doin’ in here?
Mabel: Grunkle Stan, don’t be so rude to Grunkle... *Peers in alongside Dipper.* 
Stanford: *Cheeks turn beet red.* There... there was an eldritch beast that wandered in here. I had to make sure I killed it.
Stanley: Why were you playin’ music, then?
Stanford: I... I needed to distract it.
Dipper: Why’s the mirror cleared off?
Mabel: Wait, Grunkle Ford, were you posing in front of it?
Stanford: N-no! I told you, there was an eldritch abomination in here! Now, clear out while I continue to look for it. If it harmed any of you, I don’t know what I’d do.
*Stan, Dipper, and Mabel glance at each other silently. Stan and Mabel burst out laughing, meanwhile Dipper's eyes get nearly sparkly as he glances at Ford’s guns and scars.*
Stanford: I’m telling the truth! *Pushes them out and shuts the door and locks it again.*
Stanley: Oh sure, Ford. Be sure to put the sci-fi doofus track back on before you continue your epic nerd adventure!
Dipper: For what it’s worth, Grunkle Ford, you look cool!
Stanley: Quit kissin’ his butt, Dipper. Yeesh, keep talkin’ like that and I’ll start thinkin’ you write fanfic for Ford like Soos does.
Dipper:
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C’mon, you don’t think I’d write fanfiction about my own great uncle, would you? What would I write about, anyway? How cool he looked coming out of that portal? How much I hope I turn out like he does someday, all buff and smart and awesome and battle-scarred?
Stan and Mabel: *Raise a brow.*
*Eventually, all three walk away from the door, Stan grousing about having to use the outhouse this late at night.*
Stanford: *Looks at the CD player by the sink.* Sorry old friend, looks like I’ll have to go without you from now on.
*Ford puts one boot up on the closed toilet, adjusts his goggles around his neck just so, then holds up his rifle with one hand somewhat behind his torso, the other angled so that his bicep is flexing. It’s at least another hour of him going through different poses in front of the mirror, some with the rifle, some with only one pistol, a few times with both pistols out. Through it all, he makes pew-pew and explosion noises.
When he hears that the Shack has become quiet, he finishes, nods at himself in the mirror, then heads out to go back up to his room. But first, he decides to go down to his lab to put the large rifle back.
He walks into the Gift Shop to find someone is there. He lifts his pistol and cocks it at the figure.*
Soos: Dood! Put it down!
Stanford: Soos? *Puts pistol down.* What the hell are you doing here this late at night?
Soos: Well, what are you doing here, in the Gift Shop, late at night, looking so... hunky?
Stanford: ...
Soos: ...
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Stanford: Put that down! Wait, hey-
*Soos runs out of the Shack, screaming something about doing it for the internet’s sake. Also, because Stan said he’d pay him for any and all shirtless Ford pictures he could scrounge up.*
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anonymousboxcar · 1 year
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Tilly the Dukedog (OC), Pt. Three: Bluebells & Sodor
Part One
Part Two
Here’s the final part of Tilly’s background/life story, from the 1960s to roughly the present day! Thanks for sticking with these posts. This is by far the longest one yet, so I suggest you grab a snack and a drink before settling in. I hope you all enjoy!
———————————
Tilly and Earl of Berkeley did their best to settle in on the Bluebell Railway. Like on the Cambrian main line, Tilly worked very hard to make sure all the new engines integrated and got along with each other. The Bluebell was among the first heritage railways; she wanted to make sure the model proved successful, to secure her and many others’ safety.
Earl of Berkeley, however, worried that Tilly was taking on too much by herself. He’d seen how driven she was on their old line, and he respected it very much. But he didn’t want to see her drive herself into the ground. “Everyone here wants the Bluebell to succeed,” he told her. “We’re all in this together.”
“…I know,” she said after a long pause. “I worry, is all. I don’t want to roll away and miss something.”
“We’ll keep each other in the loop, yeah? And you don’t have to go too far away. You can always delegate, give us things.”
The word “delegate” sparked something in Tilly’s mind. It reminded her of when she asked Edith to do something to set up a prank or a scheme in their Cornwall days. Looking at E.B., she knew she couldn’t go back to those days… but she could ensure they lived on.
So Tilly took it upon herself to teach E.B., an already cheeky soul, in all her old prankster ways.
There were practical reasons for doing this. She knew that most of the engines joining them were anxious and traumatized. Giving them things to laugh at, things at which to redirect their focus, would help them settle in and relax. It would make things run a little smoother.
Tilly also missed doing that sort of thing. Her schemes on the Cambrian main line were serious, caught up in the hard times and the desperation of it all. Times were still hard and desperate, of course. But thinking it over, she thought more good humor would’ve been helpful back then. She only couldn’t bring herself to do it again without her partner in crime.
Yet she still longed for a return to something much more lighthearted. She knew Edith would long for it, too. And that was enough for her to push past those buffers.
E.B. proved a skilled student who kept her and everyone else on the outer rims of their wheels. While lacking Tilly’s silver tongue, he had a knack at making people feel in on a joke. He was a class clown at heart, good-natured and happy to entertain. He laughed at himself more than anyone else, and that made him easy to trust.
For the first time in years, Tilly let herself loosen up a little bit too. She let herself grow closer to the other engines, being a friend as well as a counselor. She got in on some pranks and lighthearted schemes.
Nor did she stress over representing her line so much. While she was still representing the Dukedogs, so was E.B. They collaborated on educating guests about the GWR, their class, their lives as Bulldogs, and their Duke friends. And the Bluebell’s officials, unlike the GWR, supported their efforts.
As Stepney became the face of the Bluebell — of preserved steam engines, even — Tilly saw the anxiety under his mask. She shared her past experiences. Whatever reassurance she had, she gave to him. “It’s not the end of the world,” she told him after one gaffe.
“I know it isn’t. I just want to be a good representative for the Bluebell,” he said, looking at his buffers. “A engine losing his temper with the photographers is hardly that.”
“You were stroppy, but that happens to people. You’re a person. And so were our loved ones. Being imperfect and complicated is the best way to represent them, really.”
Stepney blinked, looking up. “I suppose so,” he said after a beat.“Can’t let them think we were all perfect angels, can we?”
“Oh, no.” She grinned. “Worse than historically inaccurate, that’d be boring.”
He barked a laugh at that.
In return for Tilly’s help, Stepney used his influence to push for more institutional support of her and E.B.’s efforts to educate the public. And he encouraged her to have her own fun, joining her and E.B. There were a couple prolific April Fool’s Days on their railway.
Knowing how she wished to respect Edith’s adventurous spirit, Stepney also told Tilly about his visit on Sodor. Curious, she joined him on several additional Sudrian trips.
I could probably fill up books talking about her dynamics with Sudrian engines, so I’ll restrain myself here to talking about her interactions with one character: Duck.
This is spilling over into yet more headcanon territory, but you guys remember how Duck told Peter Sam that “all Dukes were scrapped?” That remark isn’t incorrect, but it isn’t the full story, either.
It’s probable that Duck didn’t want to get bogged down in all the details while talking to Peter Sam. But I also like thinking he didn’t go into more detail because he never quite got over it. What if he had some friends in the Dukes, and was grieved and horrified to see new faces on their boilers?
“It was necessary for the survival of the Great Western,” he’d tell anyone who asked about it. And he believed it. He knew that no Great Western engine is above another, that it’s their Way to help each other in any way possible.
But for all that Duck cares about the GWR, I think he also cares about his individuality, feels the need to express himself in small ways. The idea of his bodily autonomy, already very limited, being disrupted in such a fatal manner for another engine, might’ve disturbed him. He wouldn’t blame any Dukedog for that, but he would struggle to lay responsibility at the feet of his beloved old railway.
Rather than deal with all his complicated feelings about this, I suggest here that Duck suppressed it. He avoided thinking about it, talking about it in detail.
So Duck didn’t speak much to Tilly outside of their first meeting. He was polite and civil in their few subsequent interactions, but always tense. It reminded Tilly of how other GWR engines responded to the Dukedogs in the first few months after the rebuilds.
It took years for Tilly to enact a successful plan to talk to him. He was slippery, but she eventually managed to finagle some down-time with him across several visits. It might’ve been better if she was less insistent, but that wasn’t her nature to let things lie.
Tilly’s first thought was to reassure him the way she did the others, saying she grieved the Dukes too. She tried this when they had a lull in their work together. Duck appreciated this and said so, but he still acted kind of uncomfortable. Tilly soon came to realize that this was tied up with his feelings about the GWR after further conversation.
Her perspective on the GWR — that it wasn’t as special as people made it out to be, often flawed like other railways — was a jolt to Duck. He disagreed at first on reflex, on principle, and Tilly took some offense. Things got heated.
But they managed to calm themselves by the next time they saw each other.
“I can’t tell you how to remember or feel about the Great Western,” Tilly said. “That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
Duck looked away. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ve needed to think about it all for some time now, if I’m honest. I’m sorry I was so rude to you.”
“We were rude to each other.” She edged closer. “I… what I should’ve said is that it’s alright to have conflicting feelings about the Great Western. If it weren’t alright, I don’t think I’d still be here today.”
“It’s the Great Western Way to carry on, no matter the fuss or how I feel,” he said after a beat, glancing back at her. “And I’ve done my best at that.”
“Indeed. You can’t be that much of a traitor to the railway, then, if you’re still here.”
“I don’t mean to suggest you’re a traitor to it, or to any of them. You’re carrying on too, honoring your… Edith, was it?”
“Yes.” She drew in a breath, feeling her lower lip tremble all of a sudden. “I — I’m glad you think so.”
Duck rolled alongside her, slow and quiet. “I know so, from what I’ve seen of you.”
Tilly took a moment to recollect herself. Clearing her tubes, she said, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re carrying on the best parts of the Great Western. Edith would be chuffed to see you pushing for solidarity, for respect in the yards.”
“…thank you.” Duck offered a small smile. “I think you’re doing much of that, too.”
“Well. I’m not that respectful if I hounded all this talk out of you, am I?”
“Ah, there’s always next time — especially on this railway.”
Tilly and Duck keep in touch to this day. They enjoy each other’s company and respect each other’s approaches to the GWR, agreeing there’s more overlap than they first thought. Duck’s rigidity on the Great Western Way softened over time. And Tilly grew a better understanding and respect for the ways people carry out histories and legacies.
With her visits, letters, and work on the Bluebell, Tilly rarely feels lonely or unfulfilled these days. She’s keeping on in all the ways she knows how, remembering and loving and learning. She works to honor Edith’s wishes in the same breath as her own.
On the most recent anniversary of her rebuild, she went out on a long run and spoke to Edith as she traveled. She talked about how things were going, about how she looked after the boiler and cab. “They’ve mended it a lot over the years, you know,” she said. “It might not have any of your original iron anymore.”
She paused, feeling the wind on her face. Water sloshed inside her in lazy circuits, trailing a second heartbeat alongside her pistons.
“But that’s alright. I’ve kept your iron in other places, staying ever so busy and silly.” She smiled. “It’s hard work, and it’s worth it. All of it.”
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indyhypnosis · 1 year
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The Dark Side Of Success (and A Silver Lining!)
You are an ambitious professional, small business owner, or goal-oriented achiever, right?
And YET, what if:
You still feel like you’re not as far along in life as you know you should be by now? 
And, maybe it also seems like, 
Even though you’ve never shied away from hard work ever;
Always invested in yourself & dreams (i.e., paid your dues); and
Made the tough decisions (and made the even tougher sacrifices because running into the fire is simply how you’re wired.)
However, when it comes to making those big, meaningful dreams come true? Well, that’s an entirely different story, is it not?
It’s like you got hit with the unworthy stick?
Because you can’t seem to outrun those deep-seated insecurities, no matter what you try or do?
You might also think you’re alone in this.
Like it’s just you, but after 35 years (and my work with clients in over 15,000+ individual sessions), I can tell you with absolute certainty…
You’d be stunned to discover that the majority of success-driven people (especially the ones you think have it all figured out), struggle daily with those same feelings of anxiety, self-doubt, and imposter syndrome because they feel unworthy deep inside, too.
Most of us have dreamt of living the good life one day, haven’t we?
I’m sure you want more than to only dream about having a successful career that makes the meaningful impact you know you’re supposed to (and are called to) have, right?
And the promise of being able to leverage automated systems to deliver the results you want, with predictable certainty, would be a dream come true, yes?
You want the time freedom to enjoy the fruits of all your sacrifice, devotion, and work without worry.
And, yet, there are so many obstacles, aren’t there? 
Why is nobody talking about the dark side of success or teaching Coaches & Consultants (people-leaders) to regain control of our freedom and independence?
Why does being an entrepreneur have to equal working 24/7, continually having the pressure to figure things out on your own, and wrestling with self-doubt, procrastination, time pressure, money pressure, and confusion about what to do next?
It’s gut-wrenching when gifted people who have an intense desire to make the world a better place feel like they aren’t progressing towards their goals regardless of how hard they work or contribute.
There’s also a myth that you always have to present a “positive attitude” and never show weakness, even to your family.
Said differently: Fake it till you make it!
Otherwise, it will cripple your business (or so “they” say).
“Clients will lose faith in you unless you always appear to have it all together.”
This creates tremendous stress and anxiety that must be shoved down, so it doesn’t prevent you from pushing forward.
What do ambitious, success-minded people do in that situation? 
What we always do: 
We seek out a magical marketing plan, an automated sales tool (since most practitioners don’t like selling), a new funnel-building software, or a coach/partner who will come in and save the day!
Or, we drive ourselves into the ground working 15-hour days, 7 days a week, never taking breaks, always on someone else’s schedule (emails, clients, business deadlines)…
We even feel guilty watching a 90-minute movie or celebrating a holiday with family because we should be getting more stuff done for strangers we don’t even know.
We are so devoted and dedicated that our health, happiness, family time, and mental health are sacrificed so we can get one more item checked off the never-ending To-Do list. 
Why? 
Because if it doesn’t get done, we might miss out on that life-changing opportunity, everything will fall apart, or the ultimate payoff for all the sacrifice will never occur. 😭
Also because we’ve been taught that this is what it takes to succeed. 
“Never give up… 
“Never surrender, never quit…no matter the cost!”
After years of chasing dreams and seeking out the newest sales, marketing, or social media strategy to make all my dreams come true, I realized this was keeping me from getting what I wanted. 
I just couldn’t see it at the time. 
A few entrepreneurs were living a fulfilling life without killing themselves or sacrificing their families for fame and fortune.
Seth Godin, for example, personally told me he doesn’t even use social media and has made a great living doing what he loves.
There is a different way to play this game where you can have the money, time freedom, quality experiences with your family, and the space to care for yourself.
Luckily, as you may not realize until now, this is exactly what my One Belief Away™ Method Certification and OBA Practice Amplifier™ projects are dedicated to doing for Coaches & Consultants in the personal and professional development space.
As you may already know, I’ve been a business owner for 28 years.
Through hard work and lots of coaching, I have built and run one of the country’s top Hypnosis coaching practices. 
During that time, my entrepreneurial brain kicked in. Through trial and error, I figured out how to develop multiple streams of income, like:
Operating a Hypnotism school;
Becoming an award-winning motivational speaker;
Being a top corporate leadership trainer;
Writing bestselling books as an author;
Interviewing industry icons as a podcast host;
Developing into a TV personality;
A publisher of online training programs;
Launching popular virtual Summits;
Winning multiple industry awards for my contributions and;
A whole bunch of other exciting collaborations, too.
You’re probably more than familiar with the routine, right? Do whatever it takes and see what sticks.
I once asked Dr. Joe Vitale what he did to become so successful. He said, “I did EVERYTHING!”
Anyway, it’s certainly been a privilege to help thousands of people attain goals, make impossible dreams come true, and experience a more profound sense of self-love, acceptance, and confidence.
Many of my best clients are also entrepreneurs who serve the world as life coaches, hypnotists, healers, business strategists, marketing experts, speakers, authors, wellness experts, small business owners, and more.
Although they came in for different reasons, the problems (and solutions) were always the same. 
They were struggling in their business because of holding back, procrastination, self-doubt, feeling like a fraud, lack of focus or clarity, overwhelm, and high anxiety.
Other clients had attained a high level of material success. 
Still, they struggled with trusting others, achieving work/life balance, chasing approval, communicating with honesty, turning to pot/alcohol/sugar to cope, breaking lifelong bad habits, and trying to avoid a divorce.
You can see where material success, happiness, or inner peace always breaks apart, right?
It all comes down to our mind’s OS (Operating System).
And more importantly, beginning to see the mental malware that’s unknowingly been downright attacking most (if not all) of the upgrades we’ve made to our mindset over the years.
Because it’s only after you begin to see the malware that you’ll be able to start the removal process.
However, all mental malware infects us at the unconscious level.
The problem here is obvious, then, right? 
If it’s UNCONSCIOUS, how will you ever know the root issue and resolve it?
That’s when you hear people say, “I’ve been doing the work for fifteen years but still feel like I haven’t gotten deep enough to the real issues.”
Well, here’s the thing: In the beginning, it’s damn near impossible to see it in yourself, BUT it’s rather easy to see it in others.
In fact, once I show you how to spot it, you’ll probably start recognizing it in yourself and seeing it in others almost automatically.
And that’s why starting tomorrow, I’m going to share a few case studies from my client files so you can get a feel for how to begin to evaluate if there’s any mental malware mutating away in your unconscious.
Now, although I won’t use their real names (to maintain confidentiality), the stories and struggles you’ll get to see are very real.
Chances are good that you will be able to relate to the issues my clients were going through (heck, I could personally relate to almost everything they faced).
So if you feel like one or more of these stories fits and describes you to a tee, don’t be surprised. 
This is the dark side of being an entrepreneur. 
Yet, when you learn what happened as a result of them going through my One Belief Away™ Method to find their solutions, you’ll realize the rewards are nothing short of miraculous.
We’ll kick things off tomorrow, where you’ll meet, John.
John is a successful business coach whose mental malware infected him at the age of 10. And little did he know, it was severely holding him back from taking his business to the heights he wanted.
And, strangely enough, you’ll discover how the same malware also almost destroyed his 30-year marriage.
See, it almost always controls every area of your life.
Yet, that’s the best news! Why? Because by cleansing the malware from one area of John’s mind, he was able to regain his freedom across the board.
Plus, you will find the speed at which he did so was staggering. 
More on that tomorrow.
🙂 Tim (Making the Unconscious Conscious) Shurr
0 notes
flamingo-writes · 2 years
Text
Sketch – e.m.
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Based from this post.
A/N: I am down bad for this man. And particularly hungry for fluffy content. That and I absolutely love writing first kisses. Will I write a second part of this? Who knows.
Summary: You ask Eddie to help you out for one of your projects. And you two spend up some time by yourselves. Eddie can’t stop thinking about how incredibly adorable you look when you’re too focused doing your thing.
Genre: fluff, pointless fluff. Mutual pining, two dumbasses in love.
Word Count: 4K of pure fluff!!
Warnings: none that I can think off. Perhaps suggestive themes towards the end.
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"No, sugar…" Eddie chuckled, "You don't realize how crazy must you be to be called crazy by Eddie Munson himself" Raising an eyebrow he gave you a feign apologetic smile that didn't reach his eyes.
In his mind, he was more focused, paying close attention to the way your eyebrows knitted together and your lips puckered in a pout framing your puppy eyes in such a delightful way he wanted to ingrain in his memory forever. You, his favorite girl out of everyone at school, begging him for a favor he would've agreed to in a heartbeat if it wasn't for his friends watching everything unfold. The fast and strong beating of his heart, as well as the presence of his friends there only made him more uncomfortable. The blush subtly starting to tint his cheeks made him wonder how transparent he was. And in an attempt to deflect the attention, he cleared his throat.
"Oh, please Eddie!" You whined. "I've done so many drawings for your Dungeons and Dragons club!" You cried out "Do this one thing for me!"
Oh, poor Eddie Munson was smitten. If he could he'd give you the moon and stars in a silver tray, but then again, his friends there made it hard for him to open up. In fact, when it was just the two of you he was gentler, even sweeter and playful. And the fact that you too noticed this difference in his behavior made you tell yourself you should’ve waited for everyone to leave the classroom before you decided to go talk to the Dungeon Master himself.
Your feelings for Eddie were far too obvious, the rest of the Hellfire Club found it endearing. Perhaps, at times they thought how manipulative was of Eddie to constantly ask you to do drawings and sketches of the characters in their club. Perhaps, sometimes going as far to help Eddie design maps and dungeons. But, what they didn't know was that Eddie corresponded to each and every one of your feelings. Constantly asking for your help was merely an excuse to spend time with you.
In the beginning, he did ask you to sketch his Dungeons and Dragons character after he once saw you sketching some cool dragon during lunch break. The fact that he found you pretty was a plus. Any excuse to get to sit down with an attractive lady such as yourself who could draw and showed an interest for fantasy, he couldn't ask for more. What he didn't expect was for a friendship to bloom from that one favor. And soon, you were the Hellfire Club’s artist and honorary member. When Eddie took the mantle of the Dungeon Master, you somehow became part his of creative process.
Somewhere along the lines you started growing feelings for him. But how could you not? Whenever it was just the two of you he truly was a Prince Charming. Gentle, caring, his flamboyant demeanor always made you laugh; he showed you such a soft side of him you were sure no one else saw. The way he made you feel truly special for being the only one who saw the sweet side of Eddie "The Freak" Munson. How could you not fall for that?
“Sugar," He began with a soft chuckle, "let me get this straight, you want me to pose for your life drawing workshop?”
While Eddie liked being watched by an audience, however, something about this audience paying close attention to his every detail did irk him up. Especially because he couldn't be his usual theatrical self, and instead had to sit still. Something he could hardly do, even in class, and deal with having to sit through periods by bouncing his leg.
“Not exactly,” You sighed, catching Eddie’s attention even further. “Just for me, for my final project"
His heart stopped as he played an entire film in his mind. Eddie playfully rolled his eyes and smirked. Trying to pretend like he wasn’t more than in on it all. And again, it was not to keep appearances to you, it was to keep his facade as the unachievable freak, flamboyant and obnoxious guy even bullies are scared of.
“What terms and conditions, sweetheart?" He followed up, looking at you with soft eyes and a cheeky grin as he rested his chin on his knuckles.
“l would love to draw you on your throne" You replied, reading all too well past his cold stone persona, and staring into the Eddie that took your breath away with every glance he shot at you.
“You know I like being looked at, and your taking advantage of it” He chuckled, as you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Said the guy who constantly asks me to draw for him, you know I like drawing…”
Eddie opened his mouth as to say something but nothing came of it. He shot you a smirk. The kind of satisfied smirk he’d put on when he had no comeback, admitting his defeat rather honorably. The kind of smile that made you weak on the knees.
“Come on, Ed," You whispered, your frown softening "It'll be just you and me, it wont even be in the drawing classroom... As long as I have light, it can be anywhere…"
Anywhere, he liked the sound of that. He looked down, chewing on the inside of his lip. He felt the stares of his friends, as if pressuring him for an answer. And everyone in the Hellfire Club had warmed up to you, to the point of giving you a shirt of your own, despite not actually playing D&D yourself, and all these guys were hoping Eddie would agree, because even the rest of the guys, felt persuaded by your cute pout and adorable eyes, not knowing, Eddie had made his mind the moment you first brought it up.
"Alright!" He said standing from his chair, clapping once before resting his hands on his waist. "When’s your project due?"
"Next week…" You replied, as you saw his cocky smile soon turned into a more gentler one.
Before your deadline on Friday, you were going to hand in a draft on Wednesday with whatever you had so far. So, on Monday after classes, Eddie took you to the vacant classroom where they usually got together form campaigns. A place you were very familiar with, and had been with Eddie alone countless of times, but for some reason this time felt different. Weirdly intimate.
Instead of doing planning with him or drawing fictional original characters, this time you were drawing Eddie himself. The face you’d seen so much, even in your dreams, was going to stay still, for you, for a while.
"It is in my biggest honor to welcome you home, princess" He said pushing the door open for you as you walked in and stared at the famous throne you were going to be drawing today. “Can I ask you something?" He asked.
"You want to know why I wanna dray you of all people?" You whispered, already anticipating his question.
"My clever girl never ceases to surprise me” He chuckled, his comment making your cheeks burn and your breath shorten.
“The first time you brought me here, l was surprised by how all of this looked…" You explained. "Especially after you became the DM…I don’t know, you fit perfectly in the throne"
Your compliment washed over his ego, making something in his chest –and his pants– feel warmer. He watched you as you looked around the room, taking notice of every single detail as if it was the first time you’d been there. But it didn’t take long for Eddie to realize you were taking as many of the details you were seeing to include them in your drawing.
"You know, I’ve always thought this whole set up is incredibly…Well planned?” You said, not sure if that was the word you were looking for. “It’s pretty easy to submerge yourself in the game when your surroundings look like this”
“Well, darling, it did take us a lot of work to decorate so it looked like the epic hideout it is” Eddie said opening his arms and gesturing vaguely everywhere in the room.
“Yeah, I know. You told me…You took one of your grandmother’s chairs and added stuff to it in the carpentry workshop you took last year? That’s pretty rad” You complimented, managing to paint his cheeks pink. “The candles, the Christmas lights to avoid turning on the actual lights from the classroom so it looks darker and ominous? I’m very impressed with all the work you’ve all done” You said as Eddie walked closer to you and gently grabbed you by the shoulders.
“You sure know how to flatter someone’s work” He purred and kissed your forehead.
It wasn’t a new occurrence, really. He’d every so often kiss your head or your forehead, whenever you made a drawing for him, or on your birthday or whenever you went to him telling him how you’d gotten another good grade. And god, every time he did, you could feel your feelings bubbling up in your mouth, wanting to rush out of your mouth like word vomit. You were so into him it was stupid. Especially because you knew he knew about them.
“Nothing but an artist recognizing another artist’s work…” You replied giving him a smile.
“So, what can I do for my fair lady, tonight?” He said walking towards his throne and sitting on it, as he stretched his legs and rest them over the table.
You looked at him as the idea sparked your mind. With wide eyes, you walked around him, looking for the best spot to get your drawing from. Eddie stared back at you curiously, with a subtle smirk on his face.
“Just stay there” You said as you pulled one of the chairs and placed it in front of Eddie and got your things out.
“Bossy” He said with the playful smile he’d have every so often as you shot him a glare.
“Look who’s talking” You teased back as he let a low chuckle escape his lips. “We don’t have a lot of time, babe. The school will be closing soon…”
“Yeah, I know. I’m thinking of getting a basic sketch of you and focusing on the details right now, and tomorrow I can work on your part of the sketch…” You said as you started running your pencil over the paper, getting a general layout of everything as well as marking very lightly some shadows.
Eddie watched you soon get lost in your sketchbook, every now and then looking up and taking him in your sight, as your focused eyes scanned him like he’d never seen you before. You looked so focused, taking in as many details as you could from him, making him feel strangely exposed, almost even naked. As the thought sprouted in his mind, he soon shook that thought of his head. And soon, another idea came to his mind.
His time in this school was running out, just like yours. And while you were clearly into him, and he was better at keeping his feelings concealed, he never really understood why he never decided to make a move. And he knew that every passing day just made it harder and harder. Perhaps he was scared of the slim chances of you rejecting him, or perhaps the idea that you two don’t work out and ultimately ends up losing you. But if you two graduated, and took different paths in life, that would be like losing you too, right? And he couldn’t bear the thought of it.
“Hey,” He broke the silence, his heart climbing all the way to his throat.
“Yeah?”
“We can…after this go back to my place. I mean, it’s not the same set up, but there’s some dim lights and, you can keep..you know, doing your thing” He said. “Working your magic…” He couldn’t understand why he felt so nervous inviting you over to his place, you had been to his place before.
You looked at him, your eyes wide and your smile growing just as much.
“Ed, that’s brilliant! Yes!” He felt the tension releasing through his shoulders as you seemed to be on board with the idea. “I can finish this today, and work on details tomorrow and it’ll be ready for Wednesday” You said, pretty relieved actually as you had other projects to work on as well.
Going to Eddie's place for the first time ever made you feel a weird twist in your guts. Normally you'd go there and help Ed with his campaign planning, and sometimes it wasn't even just about drawing; sometimes you helped him brainstorm. Again, any excuse that implied spending time with Eddie was good. However, some how, this time around felt... different. Was it because this time around was because it was you who needed his help and not the other way around.
"So, " He began “ I'm at your disposition, princess " He said bowing.
Grabbing your backpack, you took out your sketchbook and opened it on his sketch, he pecked over your shoulder as he world very often do and whistled impressed. The sketch was still halfway done, however, you'd managed to do quite an extraordinary job at drawing his throne and every little detail surrounding it keeping the shadows and lights so spot on, Eddie could almost feel the warmth from the candles behind his throne, just by staring at your drawing. His surroundings perfectly transferred into the paper, however the blank space, shaped in his silhouette was still faded, very light and subtle guide lines that waiting for you to shape into him.
You instructed Eddie to sit on his bed, taking a similar posture as he'd done back in the classroom. And you soon started sketching him. Once again, your eyes shifted a focused trance. Your usual wide, cheerful eyes soon changed into serious observant orbs that every so often look at him. And while he knew you were merely taking in his physical appearance, he swore you could stare into his soul and read his thoughts.
He had to admit, he felt weirdly watched, and tried to maintain a conversation you, mostly for the sake of his nerves. And he actually appreciated your efforts in trying to go with the conversation without losing your focus. But he knew he was distracting you. And god, you looked stunning. He couldn't stop thinking about how that focused look in you made him feel hopelessly lost in you. God, he wish he could peek in your mind the way he felt you were peeking into him.
With his heart in his mouth and a dizzying fever making him feel almost high, he couldn't endure that stare of yours any longer, he needed to say something. And right now seemed like the perfect time.it was just the two of you, graduation day just around the corner, and the odd intimate atmosphere.
If he had a golden chance, this was it.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you look when you're all focused in your drawings?" Eddie said, breaking the silence once more.
His sudden compliment soon clawed to your cheeks making them heat up as your heart soon caught up with it, making you feel flustered.
"Stop" You said, smiling softly, not wanting to externalize how much his comment made you all mushy and weak on the inside.
Despite your biggest efforts, he was able to see right through you, smiling at the effect he had on you.
“But I mean it, babe. I mean,” He said with a confident smirk, fueled by the look in your eyes and the way you were clearly avoiding his stare “You look pretty always, but its mesmerizing to see you draw…” his voice softened and soon faded out.
And you finally met his stare. Feeling time stop, as everything you could hear was your heartbeat. Your eyes met his black orbs, feeling like the world was spinning way faster as you could hear eating voice at the back of your head, telling you something was going to happen. And your hearts the world, and time seemed to stop for the longest second in your life after he spoke.
“You know that I like you a lot, right?”
God. Nothing could ever compare to the way those words felt.The longest second of your life stretched, as you repeated his words over and over again. Never had you felt a high as this one, your mind clinging to this absolute bliss washing over your body as your heart raced. Still looking at him, your eyes widened with an euphoric surprise as you felt this urge to rush to his lap and kiss him. Melt against his lips and feel his heart beat next to yours.
Your grip loosened and you dropped your pencil as you threw you notebook on the floor next to your backpack as you stood up, walking towards him. His own heart raced at an unimaginable speed with every step you took towards him.
“I like you too, Ed” You whispered, making him feel light headed, almost as he was drunk.
“I know you do…” he whispered as he moved clover to the edge of his bed, looking at you curiously as you stood in front of him “What is my little princess doing?" he said as your thighs gently bumped against his knees.
“Little princess” You whispered, his smirk grew even further and he sat up, nearing the edge of the bed, as his hands slowly stretched to your hips.
“Like that nickname? I can also call my M'Lady…" He purred smiling as he slowly pulled you closer, making you sit on his lap, straddling him.
You blushed and looked down, feeling your entire body growing hotter, as you sat on his hips. Your heart beating in your ears as your guts continued to twist in your stomach. Feeling his touch burning through the thick denim of your shorts as his hands moved down, eventually reaching the naked skin of your thighs. His dark eyes taking you in, capturing that moment forever in his memory as he had a dumbfounded and sleepy stare.
You pulled up a hand to his cheek, as he closed his eyes and leaned against your warm soft palm. A pleased him escaped his lips. You smiled and brought your other hand to his face, and admired his face. The face many people feared and looked with disdain, and the same face who often sarcastically glared at others and theatrically called out those who gave him strange looks. The same face now relaxed under your touch, looking vulnerable and soft, and you knew no one had seen such a side of Eddie Munson. And you loved it.
"I actually love it when you call me Bunny," You mouthed as he smiled and opened his eyes, slowly, staring at you with melting adoration. "But as long as you call me yours… I don't care, you can call me whatever you want" You replied as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his.
Slowly closing his eyes, he sighed deeply, leaning himself as his nose brushed yours in a shy movement. Nothing could describe how he felt right now. Eddie, who had had his fair share of random party hook ups, and weird casual flings when he’s getting high with someone who just bought drugs from him. But he never actually felt the intimacy of being this close to someone he cared for. The dim lights now seemingly radiant, and his skin reacting to every single move you made, and every noise making his ears spike up attentively. That discreet hunger of holding you and wishing for time to stop. No matter how many times he had sex, and how many of them were while being high, nothing compared to this love drunken and tender moment. He felt shy, and going as far as feeling like a total noob. And truth was, he had never been with someone he liked this much.
"You're killing me here, babe…" His voice echoed and rumbled through your bones as you felt your breath shorten. "Kiss me already, Bunny" He added, and your brain felt like the lightest thing in earth, light enough to pull you past the stratosphere.
"Manners, Munson" You managed to reply with a sly smirk, making him chuckle as he pulled back and opened his eyes to look at you with the same desiring and innocent look in his pitch black eyes,
"M'Lady," He began, stealing a soft giggle from your throat as your hands slid down his cheeks to his neck, and making him shiver lightly, "I humbly ask of you could please, give me a kiss already. Pretty please?"
And without wasting any more time, you leaned forward. Closing your eyes as he gave you a last curious a look before closing his eyes as well, your nose shyly lingered against his. Smirking, he used one of his fingers to lift your chin and pulled you closer. His lips, warm and soft like you’d always imagined met yours in a static awkward kiss at first. And feeling your heart wanting to jump out of your chest, your lips soon locked with his, as your breath shuddered. Eddie’s lips lovingly molding to yours as he stole your breath. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close, as your chest pressed against his. His hands leaving your thighs to wrap around your body as well, clinging to you like you were the best to happen to him. And god, you were. Eddie could not believe the ecstatic, euphoric state he was in. A desire to feel you closer, even closer to him took over, as he wanted to savor this moment with every inch of his being. He wanted to taste the universe in your lips, and memorize every inch of your skin, and make himself at home underneath your skin.
He moaned softly against your lips, making a shiver run down your spine as your fingers found their way in his thick hair, brushing it slowly, gently tugging on it, making him feel more and more lost in the kiss. He moaned again, his hands sliding down your back, as he let go of your waist and brought his hands up to your face, cupping your face in his big hands as he pulled back, breaking the kiss for a split second before he pecked your lips sweetly a couple of times before he pressed another deep and hungry kiss against your lips, this time, making you moan. Shy, low and sweet, the sound of your voice echoed, making his lower half feel hot. And with your weight on top of him, you could tell your moan had made his body react, you could feel it. Shyly, you broke the kiss, looking at him with heavy lidded eyes, and breathless.
"Eddie," You gasped, catching your breath as his eyes scanned your flustered face, gluing to your plumped wet lips.
"Yes, princess?"
"Ca-can we…take it slow?" You purred. "I-I’ve…never…you know…"
He chuckled softly, pulling back as his hands remained in your boiling cheeks. He stared at you with a sleepy stare and a lazy smile. He leaned closer pecking your lips.
"So that means you’re mine now?" He purred and moved to the corner of your lips, pressing another kiss before pulling back, looking at you.
His dark eyes engulfing you, making you feel lost in them, as you could swear you could feel what Eddie was feeling right now. And God, it made you glad that he corresponded your feelings. That he seemingly was as head over heels as you were for him.
"Ed…"
He smirked and pressed his forehead to yours as his hands slid down to your shoulders.
"Anything for my baby girl. We can take it as slow as you want…"
318 notes · View notes
erodasfishtacos · 3 years
Text
Not Your Charity Case
prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?
word count: 6.2k 
warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt
other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing
Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)
+++
You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.
Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.
It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.
Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.
When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.
When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.
You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.
From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.
The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”
You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.
He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.
You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”
The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”
You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.
It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.
You sign, “What are you trying to order?”
He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.
He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”
You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”
The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.
You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.
The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.
“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.
“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.
+++
Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.
With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”
You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”
His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”
“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.
Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.
You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.
His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.
Well fuck him then.
***
You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.
It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.
You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.
As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.
Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.
After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”
You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.
Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.
You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.
A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.
“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.
He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.
You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.
You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”
There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”
Your brows furrow, “I did.”
“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.
You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”
“What do you need?”
He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.
You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 
***
Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.
You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.
You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.
When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.
***
The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.
‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’
After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.
You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.
***
You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.
After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.
Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.
The reply text comes shortly after
Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.
Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!
I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.
You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.
I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?
Sounds great. Thank you again x
Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?
***
He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.
You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.
You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”
He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.
You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.
He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.
“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.
The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.
“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 
Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.
It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.
Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.
Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”
Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.
The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.
Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.
“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.
His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.
He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.
He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”
You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.
“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.
“Yes.”
“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.
He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”
You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”
“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”
“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.
“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.
***
The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.
“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.
You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.
A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”
“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.
The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.
Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.
You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”
Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”
“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.
Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 
Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.
“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.
You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.
“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.
“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 
Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.
Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.
***
Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.
“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.
“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.
“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”
“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.
“I’m not very trusting of people.”
You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”
“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.
“One more chance, Styles.”
Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’
***
It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.
You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.
Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”
You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”
He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.
You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”
The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.
He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.
The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.
“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.
***
The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.
Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’
You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.
Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 
He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **
You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.
Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.
Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.
Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.
You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.
The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”
Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.
Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”
“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.
He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.
You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.
Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.
His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”
“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb
His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”
**
You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.
You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.
With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.
Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.
Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.
“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.
You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”
“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.
It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.
You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.
“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.
“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.
“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.
“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.
“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.
Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.
It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.
You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.
Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.
When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.
Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”
Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”
Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 
You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.
It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.
All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.
He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.
Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.
Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”
You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”
He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.
So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.
Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.
Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.
Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”
Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”
Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”
Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.
You wanted everything from him.
“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.
“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.
“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.
You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.
You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.
He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.
His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.
“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.
You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.
As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.
When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”
You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.
His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.
Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.
Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.
Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.
Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 
You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.
You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.
You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”
With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.
“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.
“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.
You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.
Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.
Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.
When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”
You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.
You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”
“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.
“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.
And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.
Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.
When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.
Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.
It takes you a moment - then it hits you.
Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.
You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.
When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.
The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.
---
Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.
“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.
“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.
“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.
“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.
“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
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Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family
I’m Home
Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary | based on the request ^^
Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death
Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬
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The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.
There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.
Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.
“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.
“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.
“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.
“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.
“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.
“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”
“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.
“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”
“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.
The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.
“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”
“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”
“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”
“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”
“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.
“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.
“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.
“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,
“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.
But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”
As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”
To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.
“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”
“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”
“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”
Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.
“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.
The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.
“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”
Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.
Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.
Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.
They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.
“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.
“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.
“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”
“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”
“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”
“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.
“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“
“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.
“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.
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chanfictions · 3 years
Text
Chidori
18+ CONTENT! MINORS DNI!
Kakashi x Reader
Part 2
Playing with electricity, mind games, smut, smut, smut.
2.4k
It's all fun and games until your boyfriend acquires intel that you have some unfulfilled fantasies involving his chakra nature.
You and your big fucking mouth.
You knew getting drunk and shmoozing with that old pervert was a huge mistake, but inebriated you was just a treasure trove of curative ideas for the raunchy author's writer's block, and he was footing the tab. One cup of sake after another and your most titillating fantasies just rolled right off of your twisted tongue in a drunken game of Never-Have-I-Ever, Kink Edition. Little did you know that your traitorous mountain of a drinking buddy would slink off to your boyfriend later with all of the intel he had gathered from you.
You made a mental note to sic Tsunade on him later. Now, however, you had more important things to worry about, namely the chirping cracks of lightning surrounding Kakashi’s hand as you shifted nervously in your rope bindings. "Babe, shouldn't we talk about this?" You squeaked nervously as you twirled in place like a little marionette with your arms bound above your head.
"What's there to talk about, hm? Jiraiya told me just how exciting you thought it would be to play with electricity." The eerie calm in his voice as he circled you, wielding that handful of sparking doom sent lusty shivers up your spine. You were a thrill seeking fear slut, and Kakashi knew it. The danger held in his palm twisted your insides into the most delightful knots and left you dripping with excitement.
"I meant… oh, I don't know, a violet wand or something designed for use on the human body, not an assassination jutsu!" You stammered and your voice climbed in pitch. Your eyes widened the closer he got to you. The scent of ozone filled your nostrils, and all of the little hairs on your body stood on end from the static beginning to collect in the air.
"What's the matter, kitten? Don't think you can handle it?"
"Do I think I can handle a jutsu you use to literally pierce people's hearts as FOREPLAY?!" Your voice entered the soprano register as you gnawed your lip and spun around him again, tipping about on the balls of your bare feet.
A chuckle purred deep in Kakashi’s chest as he pulled his mask down with a light curl to the corner of his mouth. "That is what I asked you."
Words failed you, and all you could manage was a high pitched squeal as he ghosted the edge of that jutsu around your exposed stomach, just barely kissing your skin with static. Your breath caught in your throat as your heart leapt into your mouth.
"You haven't forgotten your safe word, have you?" He mused while continuing to circle you like a silver-haired lion.
Another squeaky yelp that sounded like a 'no' slipped from your lips as your bugged out eyes followed the sparks and you twitched away from his hand.
"What we should talk about is your racy little conversation with Master Jiraiya yesterday." Kakashi’s dark iris glinted with the reflection of those chirping bolts as he traced a less dangerous finger along your trembling jawline, tipping your chin upward. "Naughty girl, telling that old pervert about your little fantasies before even I had the privilege of hearing them." His voice was a mere gusty murmur blowing beneath the deafening crackle humming right next to your face.
"We were just talking about his unfinished book," you insisted in a shaky chitter as your eyes locked on the blue chakra leaping from his fingertips. Boy, did Kakashi know how to push your buttons. The ache between your legs had you twisting your thighs as that knot of excited fear tightened in your belly. He had barely laid a finger on you since hanging you up, and you were just fluttering for some kind of stimulation.
Another dark little laugh rolled in Kakashi’s chest. "You should really know better by now, kitten," he purred, bringing the jumping bolts ever closer to your skin, letting little shocks nip and draw goosebumps on your waist as he trailed his sparking hand ever closer to your very erect nipples, making you squirm anxiously. "Master Jiraiya and I are very good friends. He tells me everything."
You swallowed hard, breaking into a bit of a sweat. "So… um… what else did he tell you?" Your voice cracked under the strain of the pitch you were reaching while you bit your lip. Keeping your heaving chest away from his hand was growing more difficult with the little slack you had in your rope.
"Now, where's the fun in giving up my leverage?" A sly smile tilted his lips. "You might want to stop squirming before this arcs… electricity can be so unpredictable, can't it?"
A high whine hummed in your throat as your eyes flicked from that devious smile back to his hand again. He wouldn't, right? Another hard swallow had you nibbling on your lip in hopeful anticipation and wringing your bound hands. That chirping sound terrified you, as you knew it all too well from fighting alongside the silver-haired jonin. Your heart raced in the best possible way, that fear leaving you aching and wet.
"Oh, but you'd like that, wouldn't you? I can see it in your eyes," he murmured in your ear, sliding behind you and pulling your body tightly against his with his tamer hand, tracing a line from your navel up to the breast he firmly cupped. You felt that bulge of desire for you straining the fabric of his pants when you were pulled in and gave your ass a little teasing wiggle against it. He trailed his lips along your neck up to your jaw. Deft fingers rolled a hardened bud, sending tasty jolts through your body, making you arch into his touch. The chattering spark in his left hand hovered inches from your skin. "Say it."
"K-kakashi, I--" you stammered nervously. He could no doubt feel your racing pulse beneath his lips as he kissed his way along your neck.
"It's simple. Either you want it and you tell me as much, or you don't and tap out, but we both know what you're going to say." How that man managed to maintain such an aloof coolness while terrorizing you like this was just beyond you.
With your blood rushing in your ears, you bit your lip and dropped your head back against his shoulder. "Light me up," you breathed lustfully before you even realized what you were asking for.
With a knowing chuckle, Kakashi obliged. The pitch of the chirping shifted, and hot points of light licked your skin, leaving you gasping in surprise. The little lightning strikes were fiery and felt sharp like the edge of a knife being dragged over your flesh. You had expected it to really hurt, but as usual, Kakashi had twisted your head around in a delicious mind fuck, letting you think he just might fry you up until the very last moment. The sensation beautifully toed the line between pain and pleasure, sending literal shocks through your body. Arching your back, you bit your lip with an excited squeal as his hand hovered just above your nipple, peppering it with a storm of static. "Did you really think that I would touch you with an actual Chidori?" The tone of his voice sent shivers up your spine.
"It s--ah-aaah-oounded like the rreeeal one," you gasped in a breathy moan as those sparks danced around your torso. Tiny bolts pierced your skin like needles without leaving so much as a mark in their wake. The most shocking aspect of this newfound kink was the smell. It never occurred to you that electricity had any kind of defining odor, but this did, and you couldn't get enough of it.
More soft chuckles hummed behind you as Kakashi’s breath fanned your neck. His sparking hand ran circles around your breasts, sending shocks straight through your body to your throbbing clit. The sensation was amazing and left you arching into his body, swaying your hips against his own waiting lust. "Are you trying to tell me something, hm?" He punctuated the statement with a nip of your neck and began trailing his new favorite toy downward.
"W-w-aaaait a minute!!" You squeaked in surprise at a dog-whistle pitch, wiggling your hips again in an effort to avoid that hand as you had quickly realized what he was about to do with it.
"You know the word to use if you want me to stop," he murmured, more and more amused by this. "Otherwise, I'm going to find out if I can get you off without actually touching you." He slid his feet between yours, prying your legs apart and stepping lightly on the tops of your now inward turned feet to keep you rooted.
The next sound coming out of your mouth was a shrill, giggling shriek that rolled into a loud moan. Kakashi brought those sparking fingers down to your slick clit, hovering just above it and sending little lightning strikes grouped in pulsing waves directly at the most sensitive spot. The electric chakra jumped around your dripping pussy, sending all new sensations ripping through your body. The inhuman noise you were producing grew loud enough that Kakashi had to muffle your mouth with his other hand to prevent the neighbors from thinking he was murdering you.
Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let out another loud wail. Pins, needles, and precise strikes of heat from the electricity coursing through you sent your muscles contracting in waves in time with the pulses leaving his fingers. Your walls fluttered around nothing, absolutely starving to be filled. The intensity was unlike anything you had ever experienced. Your legs trembled as the pitch of your voice rolled chromatically skyward.
Kakashi hummed praises in your ear, kissing along your exposed neck as he kept that one hand clamped firmly over your mouth. With a sly smirk he whispered in your ear, "Let's turn things up a bit."
To say you saw stars as he did just that was an understatement. The heat and force applied by those biting strikes of sparking chakra increased, intensifying your involuntary muscle contractions. Your legs nearly gave way as the first heavy wave of the night crashed over you and stole the air from your screaming lungs. Your walls clenched desperately. The knot of heat in your belly finally burst.
"Mmm, so that does work. Good to know," he mused, turning up the power as you rode out that first release until you wailed again and bucked your hips into his hand. Cutting the chakra off for the moment, he pressed hard against your puffy clit, rubbing circles to keep you teetering on the edge of blissful insanity.
"Mmmfffff--K-kakashi, please," you begged desperately around his hand. You were throbbing, aching, pining to be filled. "N-need you, need you now--"
As swift as the bolts of lightning crackling about in his hand, Kakashi had you untied from the rope, stripped his own clothes, and pinned to the mattress just a few steps behind where you were hanging. With a bruising kiss and a hand tangled in your hair, he ground his hips against your throbbing pussy, eliciting a lewd moan from you into his mouth. Hungry, desperate, and needy for him, you snapped your legs around him, urging him to stuff you. There was no need for the usual prep with how wet that electricity had gotten you. You gasped with eyes rolling back into your head as he abruptly rutted his full length into your aching core, sending you right back into outer space, digging your nails into his shoulders and locking your legs around him.
A low growl rumbled in Kakashi’s throat as your walls attempted to crush his cock. He swallowed your moans and wails from his movements in equally ravenous kisses with one hand still tangled into your hair. As you rode out yet another blinding orgasm, he snatched one of your knees and pinned it to your chest to achieve more depth that left you teetering on the edge of blackout. It was so fucking good. You clenched around him again, finally with the satisfaction of being stuffed so full and babbled incoherently. "Fuck-- Kakashi, so fu-haaah-ah-big -- can't -- oh, gods-- I--"
Hearing you unable to string together a coherent sentence filled Kakashi with immense satisfaction as he ground deeply into your impossibly tight little hole. Picking up the pace, the force of his thrusts rocked the bed noisily into the wall, though it likely couldn't be heard over you. He smothered your rambling cries with his mouth, leaving trails of bites and hot breath down your neck before coming back for more. He groaned loudly as you bit his shoulder while fluttering around him yet again to stifle your own noise. Nail marks decorated his upper back from your desperate attempt to hold onto something as he railed you into oblivion. His breathing quickened before catching in his throat and erupting as a guttural growl when he delved into you to an impossible depth, painting your insides white.
You were nearly choking on your own saliva as you dropped your head back into the mattress beneath you, fighting to catch your breath. Kakashi buried his face into the curve of your neck, gripping you tightly and murmuring soft affections as you both slowly drifted down from that impressive high. You could hardly feel your legs from how hard your soul had been fucked out of your body. He remained there, buried in you with your leg still trapped, trailing his fingers along your cheek while you tried to remember your own name.
"That was… ridiculous," you breathed heavily, coiling your arms around his neck.
Kakashi just chuckled, trailing his lips up your neck to yours again. "Well, now that you can speak again, perhaps we can finish the conversation we started earlier," he mused, running his fingers along your side teasingly.
You were not running on full steam and just pressed yourself tightly against him. "Hmm?"
"Mmm, electricity wasn't the only thing you were talking about with Master Jiraiya…" Kakashi spoke in a husky tone and trailed off with a wicked twinkle in his eye.
You peered up at him, face beginning to flame with embarrassment and a slight hint of dread as you remembered the depth of your drunken chat with the sannin who was definitely going to get pummeled for this later.
Oh, shit.
"What's this I heard about shadow clones?"
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silversatoru · 4 years
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Can i regurst a gojo x reader smut where y/n is gojo’s ex girlfriend and also a strong jujutsu sorcerer and they get back together asdfghjkl 🥺😂? Tyy 🥺
hehhee yes ma’am here u are!!! i actually loved writing this one (i think i just have a thing for writing gojo lately lmao) anyway! i! hope! you! enjoy!
to heaven and back
gojo satoru x f! sorcerer!reader
synopsis: you and your ex, gojo satoru, beat the hell out of a few special grade curses and then head back to his house to rekindle an old (and kind of kinky) flame
tags/warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, handcuffs, blindfolding, little bit of oral sex, teasing, alcohol consumption, some fluff at the end? just a little
word count: 3.1k
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You lifted your elegant glass of random wine that you could care less about knowing the name of, and took a long sip. All of these old rich bastards talked way too much about brand names, aging, and what cheese paired well with each wine. They were missing what was really important — which one would get you drunk the quickest. 
These kinds of formal events weren’t really your scene, and having to listen to a bunch of old, conservative, high-up jujutsu leaders was terribly boring — so why not take this opportunity to get a little tipsy? You deserved it for putting up with all of these assholes. After all, the only reason they invited you to this prestigious event was for protection. If that pesky band of special grade curses caught wind that all of the higher ups from both Kyoto and Tokyo were in the same place, they were sure to launch some kind of attack. The old, wrinkly douchebags couldn’t care less about your opinions of the jujutsu world and how you would change it, they only liked you for incredible cursed technique. 
And so here you were, spitefully wearing your most elegant dress and downing glasses of wine in an attempt to drown out all of the nonsense around you. There was only one thing that could make this event any worse and— 
“Hello everyone! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer has arrived — I know you were all looking forward to my appearance”. 
And there it was. There was that one thing that could make this event any worse. Gojo Satoru.
You dipped your head low, burying yourself in your glass of wine and praying to any god who would listen to not let this man see you. It’s been over two years since the two of you broke up, but he still wasn’t someone you enjoyed running into. 
Gojo was terribly notorious for having a long line of girls at his disposal, and with his incredible strength and annoyingly good-looks, it wasn’t hard to understand why. The two of you had never been in an officially committed relationship, and so technically Gojo was free to do as he pleased — but you were practically dating and your heart ached every time you caught wind of him being with another woman. And so two years ago you cut things off with him for good — you were tired of being the one he always ran back to at the end of the day. 
He’d looked at you with eyes full of pain that night, begging and pleading to stay with him. He showed you a vulnerable side to him that you had never seen before — and he swore to you that if you had asked to make things official, he would have committed himself to you fully. You declined however, because you felt like you shouldn’t have needed to ask for that kind of thing — but maybe that was just your ego getting in the way. 
“Hey, beautiful, I’ve never seen you around before, you must be from the Tokyo campus,” Some random assistant casually leaned against the counter you were sitting at and shook you out of your thoughts.
“If you’ve never seen me before then you must not be very important,” You shot him a distasteful glance, taking another sip of your wine. 
The man’s face lit up with panic — he must not have been expecting such retaliation to his pathetic attempt of flirting. 
“Are you bothering her?” A familiar voice came from behind you — a long, slender hand slapping down onto your shoulder, “Please don’t flirt with my wife”. 
“Ah- Wife? I’m so sorry, sir,” The man stumbled over his words, bowing his head to Gojo and scurrying away. 
Gojo wasted no time sliding into the seat next to you and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle you’d already been working on. 
“Really? You’re telling people I’m your wife now?” You gave him a deadpanned look. 
“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his glass. 
You rolled your eyes hard, “Why are you here, Satoru?” 
“Same reason as you. The old, conservative pussies are afraid those special grades might attack — so why not invite their two prized sorcerers to protect them?” 
“Fair,” You let out a heavy sigh, “Not sure that was their best move though — I don’t think either one of us is very motivated to save these fuckers”. 
“No, but I brought my students with me today. So, if anything does happen, make sure you put on a show for them,” He winked, already topping off his wine glass. 
You looked over to see a few kids sitting a couple tables away from the two of you, chatting amongst themselves and wondering why the fuck they had to be here. 
And so an hour or two went by, and to your surprise, you found yourself laughing hysterically alongside Gojo. The two of you had definitely drank a bit too much, and your personalities complimented each other a little too perfectly. You shared the same terrible sense of humor and he had quite the knack for bringing out this lighthearted side of you. You had missed moments like this these past two years. 
Neither of you were paying any attention to the current debate that was occurring between the higher ups when a loud crash sent broken pieces of glass flying through the grand hall. Sure enough, the curses had made their appearance and came flying into the building through a now broken window.
“It’s our time to shine, huh?” Gojo looked over at you, and you imagined that his icy blue eyes were swirling with excitement under that mask. 
“Yeah, let’s make this quick,” You found a warm ball of excitement churning in your own stomach — it’d been a long time since the two of you had fought together. 
Your technique revolved around the manipulation of cursed energy and converting it into light. You could wrap yourself in a shield of light, send curse-filled bursts of light at your enemies, and move at the speed of light as well — which was almost as efficient as Gojo’s teleportation abilities. You had a series of more advanced moves as well, but those required more energy output and therefore you used them a little less often.
The two of you were both able to move so fast that the curses really didn’t stand a chance. You found yourself laughing as you flipped through the air, hurling balls of light at the curses as Gojo worked closer in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, while the two of you were flying past each other, Gojo stuck out his hand and gave you a high five, both of you smiling like maniacs who enjoyed fighting a little too much. 
Between Gojo’s Limitless and your extreme agility and bursts of light, the curses were quickly forced to flee. Both of you were feeling much too drunk and much too lazy to chase after them, even with all of the higher ups begging you to do so. Gojo simply flipped them off and stuck out his tongue, saying that he did what they paid him to do — keep the curses away — and now that the curses had been scared off, he was no longer needed. 
“You want to come back with me, relieve more of our old memories together? I remember how much you loved sleeping in my king sized bed,” Gojo looked back at you, offering one of his large, slender hands. 
Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your stupid, stupid heart, but you reached out and took his hand, “Fuck it, let’s go”. 
Gojo’s house on the outskirts of the Tokyo campus was just as you remembered — sleek black interior with modern furniture and extravagantly silky sheets on his bed — his same bed that you were currently sprawled out on, laying in nothing but your undergarments. 
Gojo joined you a couple minutes later, his bare skin warm and familiar against yours. He pressed a few sloppy kisses to your lips, both of you still incredibly tipsy and unable to stop the small giggles from leaking out between your lips while you kissed. 
“Take the blind fold off you weirdo,” You pulled at the back of the black fabric. 
“Mmm, okay,” He mumbled, undoing the knot and exposing his piercing blue eyes.
“So pretty,” You murmured under your breath — his eyes really were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life
His fluffy silver hair fell down messily over his face, a drunken smile stretched across his lips. His smile quickly turned into a devilish grin as he slipped the mask over your eyes instead, tying a tight not at the back of your head.
“This isn’t what I meant,” You droned, but you didn’t argue — you certainly weren’t opposed to being blindfolded.
“It looks good on you,” He slurred, his words messy and his lips even messier as he pressed them back against yours. 
The kisses seemed to last forever, and both of you were perfectly okay with that — your hands taking their time exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in far too long. 
Gojo���s hands worked their way up your back, tracing lines along your toned muscles until he finally reached the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, soft hums coming from his lips.
“I still have handcuffs, if you’re still into that sort of thing,” he mused, massaging his fingertips into your scalp. 
“Damn, I can’t believe you remember what I like. I thought my preferences would have gotten lost among the sea of other women you were pleasing,” You let the snarky remark roll off your tongue, though there was clearly no real spite in your words — you’re both adults and what happened then was in the past now.
“It wasn’t even that many,” He defended, “And you were the only one who ever mattered”. 
“I’m flattered,” You laughed, “Now, where are those handcuffs?” 
Gojo stifled a deep laugh, his hands leaving your hair as he lifted himself up and stood from the bed. When he returned a few moments later, there was cool metal wrapping around both of your wrists. He had two sets of handcuffs, putting one on each wrist and then hooking the other side to the bed posts. 
You were entirely at his disposal now, your hands secured over your head and your vision blocked off by the black mask. 
“I could tickle you right now and there’s nothing you could do,” Gojo observed aloud, pressing kisses up the side of your torso.
“Satoru, I would kick the living shit out of you,” You threaten, goosebumps growing under your skin. 
“Yeah, but you can’t touch me unless I let you,” He retaliated, his soft hands reaching underneath your bra to feel your breasts.
You groaned in response — his Limitless really did make him impossible.
He cupped each of his hands around your firm lumps, gently massaging them between his fingers. His cool fingertips then made their way down to your lower body, swiftly removing your remaining underwear. You were now completely exposed to him, chills running down your spine as you wondered what he would do next. 
You heard a shaky breath leave his lips, his hungry hands massaging circles into your thighs, “God, you’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, you know that?” 
“I’m sure you did,” You breathed, “I’m a wonderful person to be around”. 
Gojo let out a hearty laugh, and you heard what you assumed to be the sound of his own underwear getting thrown to the floor. A few seconds later he was straddling your torso, his warm thighs wrapped around your body. You couldn’t see it, but you knew his massive member had to be right in front of your face now. 
“Remind me what that pretty mouth can do,” He cooed, pressing the tip of his length gently to your lips. 
You graciously granted him access, parting your lips and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, earning a few twitches from Gojo’s body. You began to bob your head back and forth as much as the handcuffs allowed, a few quiet moans leaving his throat in response. 
He began to move his hips against you, gingerly pushing his member deeper and deeper into your mouth until you were taking the full length down your throat. He groaned and let a few curse words slide from between his teeth — your mouth was wrapped so perfectly around him. Tears pricked at your eyes and a couple rough gags ripped through your throat, Gojo finally pulling away and allowing you to catch your breath. 
After that, you felt a single one of his long, slim fingers slide into your mouth, and you wasted no time wrapping it in your tongue and sucking hard. 
“Good girl,” He murmured, plucking his finger back out of your mouth and moving it down to your aching entrance. 
Between the saliva on his finger and the slick juices around your opening — his finger slid in effortlessly. He started moving in quick movements, curling his finger up into your g-spot each time. A few light moans left your lips, your fists clenching in the cuffs as your yearned for more. His finger felt good, but you wanted the real thing — you needed it.
“Satoru, please,” You practically whined his name, a tiny bit ashamed for how desperate you were for him right now. 
“Patience, love,” He clicked his tongue and your heart did somersaults at the endearing name. 
He removed his singular finger and intertwined it with a second one before sliding them back into your cavern. He picked up a steady pace again, your breath hitching in your throat. Two fingers was certainly better than one, but the continuous teasing was just making you even more desperate to feel his member inside of you. You mumbled his name over and over, small pleads and shameless whispers leaving your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hands.
“No ones fucked you as good as I used to, have they? You’re horribly desperate right now” He clicked his tongue again, removing his fingers and moving them up to your clit. He rubbed the smallest, softest circles against the small nub, your core growing warmer with desire. 
“I won’t make you wait any longer then,” He whispered, sitting back and positioning the head of his length against your throbbing cunt. 
“Please,” You mumbled fervently, any ego or pride that you once had was completely down the drain now. 
Your pleads were finally rewarded, Gojo pressing himself deep into your tight walls. The immediate feeling was complete bliss, your head rolling back in pleasure as you heard a throaty moan creep it’s way out of Gojo’s mouth. His moans were so pretty — god, you’d missed the sound of them.  
He moved in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace at first, your hips bucking and wiggling as you made fervent attempts to make him go faster.
“So eager…” He shook his head, continuing to move at a pace that was absolutely agonizing — you thought you might die if he didn’t rail the hell out of you soon. 
“Please, fuck,” You gasped, “Stop moving so goddamn slowly”. 
“Your whines are so pretty, baby. Say my name and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” He murmured, his voice low and husky. 
“Fucking hell,” You gritted your teeth, “Please Satoru, please fuck me already”. 
“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, your words sending electricity coursing through his body. 
After hearing you say that, he was quick to give you what you wanted, picking up his pace and wrapping his hands firmly around your hips. Strangled combinations of moans, whimpers, and cries filled the air as they flew from your mouth. You didn’t care how loud or desperate you sounded, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel. 
The two of you were an entangled mess of sweaty skin and throaty moans, Gojo filling your ears with praises and compliments the entire time. His lengthy member railed into you over and over, hitting that perfect pleasure point with each stroke and sending warm surges of ecstasy through your veins. 
Your bodies moved together in sync, your breaths aligning and your climaxes threatening to arrive simultaneously. After a few more firm strokes, you felt yourself drowning in pleasure — euphoria crashing through your body like waves. Gojo reached his end point just a few moments later, his loud cuss words and strangled moans filling your ears. 
The two of you rode out your orgasms together, and almost immediately afterwards Gojo collapsed next to you. He lazily reached up and uncuffed each of your hands, leaving the cuffs dangling from his bed posts just in case there was a round two in his future. He rolled the sticky condom off his member and tossed into a nearby trash bin, a relaxed sigh slipping between his parted lips. You peeled the black mask off of your eyes, finally able to meet his again. 
He was staring at you with eyes filled with all kinds of emotions — the emotions that he’d been too afraid to admit to the first time the two of you were together. But he wasn’t afraid of commitment anymore, he was absolutely certain about what he wanted, and it was you. 
“Stay with me,” He asked, his eyes pleading with you, “I’m ready this time, I promise. I’m all yours, if you’ll have me”. 
You found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you looked deeper into his eyes, “Of course I’ll stay, as long as you still feel this way when you wake up sober tomorrow”. 
“I’ll feel this way forever,” He pressed his head into you and mumbled into your chest, “And I’ll remind you as many times as you need to hear it”. 
You wrapped your arms around him in response, the two of you fitting impeccably together. He placed a few gentle kisses to your skin before his breathes began to slow. You found your own breathing to be evening out, your cloudy thoughts pushing you closer and closer to sleep. The two of you slowly drifted off together, your heavy breaths falling perfectly in sync.
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alcinadimitrescuwu · 3 years
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You Make Me Feel So Young (Alcina x Older!Reader)
Part II Alcina’s golden eyes open slowly as the early morning sun shone through the curtains. She looks down at you, cradled against the curve of her body, your head tucked comfortably under her chin. She smiles to herself. This is the way the two of you have woken up every morning for decades, and yet Alcina can never seem to get tired of it.
You shift in her embrace as you wake, blinking your eyes slowly as they adjust to the morning light. Alcina holds her breath for a moment. Lately your memory had not been as clear as it once was and Alcina hoped, no she needed you to remember what day it was.
Alcina runs a hand through your thin graying hair. “Good morning, draga mea,” she says, placing a kiss on your forehead.
You smile back at your wife. Even after all these years, the sight of Alcina waking up next to you never failed to take your breath away. Her face is clear of her makeup, her wrinkles that were usually hidden by her pale foundation made more prominent. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as she smiles at you, her laugh lines like little accent marks indenting her cheeks.
“Good morning, my love,” you say, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “And also...happy anniversary.”
Tears begin to well up in Alcina’s eyes. “Darling, you remembered!” she says, swiftly kissing your cheek in her excitement.
“Yes!” you say as you hold her close, running a thumb along her shoulder. “The doctor said I would have some days of clarity, when I would be more lucid. I’m glad today is one of those days.”
“As am I,” Alcina said, wiping tears furiously from her eyes. She gives you a watery smile. “Well, shall I help you get ready?”
You nod and Alcina gets out of bed and heads over to your side in a flash. She holds out her hand to you and you take it, wobbling slightly as you try to find your balance. Your center of gravity isn’t as stable as it once was. Alcina’s hand is on your back holding you steady, however. You hold her hand as she gently guides you to the vanity.
She sets you in front of the vanity, takes out a silver-back brush and begins to brush out your hair. As Alcina brushes your hair, you look around at the pictures that you have placed at the edge of the mirror. There is one that Alcina had taken of you when you were first courting. The two of you had been on a picnic. It was a particularly windy day  and you were trying to brush the hair away from your eyes. You see your younger face break out in a sheepish grin as you realize that Alcina had taken that opportunity to capture the moment.
Another picture is of you and Alcina on your wedding day. The two of you are face to face holding one another’s hands. You are standing on the pedestal that Heisenberg had made himself so you could truly look into your wife’s aureate eyes as you made your vows. You can make out the glisten of joyful tears in Alcina’s eyes, her beautiful raven hair swept up into an elegant chignon.
Then there is the most recent picture of you and your family. Alcina is sitting in the chair and you stand behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on your cane, leaning against the chair for support. Bela and Cassandra had behaved remarkably well during the shoot, but Daniela couldn’t resist making the peace sign, much to Alcina’s chagrin.
“Looking at all these pictures of us really melts the years away, doesn’t it?’ you say, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.
Alcina doesn’t smile back. Her brow is furrowed and her golden eyes look pensive. “Do you ever-” she begins to ask, but then she snaps her mouth shut as if thinking better of it.
You gently take the brush out of her hand, setting it on the vanity and turn to face her. “Do I ever what, darling?” you ask, kissing her knuckles.
“Do you ever...regret not taking the Cadou?”
You look at her, smiling sadly. “Dearest, we’ve been over this so many times.”
“I know, I know,” Alcina says impatiently. “But...have you?” Alcina begins to wring her hands nervously.
You take her hand and run circles over her wrist with your thumb as you collect your thoughts. “I know you would rather I did, but like I’ve told you before, I want to experience life in all its stages. All the good and the bad.”
“But your memory,” she says, her voice cracking. “It could fix your memory. Don’t you want that?”
“Of course I do,” you say gently. “But I also want my life to take its natural course. You can understand that, can't you?”
Alcina nods, tears falling on the top of her nightgown. You take your trembling hand and gently wipe her tears away from her cheeks with your handkerchief. “I understand,” she says, her voice thick. “I do, and I know I’m just being selfish. But I’m simply not ready to know a world without you in it. I don’t think I ever will be.”
You suddenly pull your wife in a hug, tucking your chin under her shoulder. “Let’s not worry about that today, darling,” you soothe, stroking her ebony hair. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have together, hmm?” You pull away, but hold her alabaster face in your hands. “Besides, it’s not often that 50th wedding anniversaries come around, do they?”
Alcina’s face breaks out into a wide grin. “It’s unbelievable,” she breathes. “It seems like almost yesterday.”
You run a finger along her cheekbone and she leans into your touch. “I still remember sitting at that table in the cabaret. I could hardly believe my shock when I realized that the gorgeous lounge singer was also my employer!”
Alcina’s eyes glitter with mischief. “Oh, but I knew who you were the whole time, pet,” she says, smirking.
“I know you did,” you laugh. “And to make matters worse you sang to me the whole time. I was practically another stage light with how much I was blushing!”
Alcina chuckled. “I couldn’t resist, especially when I saw how lovely you looked with all the color rushing to your face.” She takes your chin in her hand. “The way it looks right now.”
When you chance a look at your reflection in the mirror, you find your face is indeed as red as it was on that day over half a century ago. You are amazed that no matter how many years passed, Alcina still had the ability to make you feel like a young woman again.
Alcina brings your chin forward and briefly brushes her lips against yours. You press your lips to her cheeks, her laugh lines, her chin. “I love you,” you say, leaning your forehead against hers. “Always know that.”
“I love you, too,” Alcina presses a kiss to your brow before tucking her chin under your gray curls. “Happy Anniversary, draga mea.”
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bluelightning16 · 2 years
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Hi! I saw your fanart about Silver's harem and saw Idia there too! May I ask what you think about Idia x Silver? I started to shipp it after that vignette Silver SR Robes. I think it's cute to imagine Silver trying to understand Idia's otaku side
I started to ship them after reading that vignette, too!
Their dynamic is honestly such a wholesome one.  Let me just preface this by saying that relationships don’t necessarily have to be formed off of mutual growth, but I’m a firm believer that it makes for more interesting content when they do.  All of the Twisted Wonderland boys, pre-Yuu, have been lacking something in their lives.  In Idia’s case, this is confidence (among other things, but that’s some Episode/Book 6 content I shouldn’t get into now), whereas Silver’s needs are more along the lines of being able to relax and find a reason to live outside of his family and duty.  Luckily for Idia, Silver’s ability to see the good in everyone and his blunt sincerity, while embarrassing at times, is the encouragement he’s been missing; he does, naturally, have Ortho as one of his staunch supporters as well, but words often feel more meaningful coming from an outside party.  Meanwhile, hanging out with Idia can teach Silver so much about what it feels like to just be a normal kid, free of his more formal duties and obligations.  Expanding his social circles beyond just that of Diasomnia allows him to explore a less serious side of himself that he wouldn’t discover otherwise.  Of course, there’s also the possibility for lots of one-sided pining within their relationship—but I won’t talk about my angsty tastes this time...
Idia’s flustered reactions to Silver are always so cute to see.  He actually voluntarily approaches his underclassman in the aforementioned vignette, drawn in by his beauty... which is just so indicative of more than just platonic feelings???  Personally, I’d love to see more of him like this, as it would really underline the changes being around Silver has brought.  And concerning confessions, I think it would be the final nail in his coffin of development if he actually makes the first move.  I’m also partial to seeing more male-lead-Silver wooing Idia unintentionally like it’s second nature—either way, the scene would be amazing, but playing around with typical dynamics is a particular hobby of mine.
Speaking of hobbies... I think that both before and after the start of their relationship, Idia and Silver have a weekly ritual of going to Idia’s dorm room to play video games and read manga.  This routine initially begins as a request from Silver to learn more about what’s popular among his peers, as per Lilia’s instructions.  Idia, while wary at first, quickly warms to him, excited to finally have an irl friend to share his hobbies with.  To his surprise, Silver isn’t half-bad.  However, there’s still room for improvement; that’s the sole reason behind why he offers to see him for future practice sessions—for the training and only the training, of course.  Eventually, after Silver crashes for the umpteenth time in his bed during a late match, they make arrangements for sleepovers instead.
At some point in time, once they’re officially dating, Silver asks if he can bring his fa—Lilia-senpai, to one of their little hang outs, to which Idia reluctantly agrees.  He still doesn’t exactly know what to make of the mysterious vice dorm leader, but it seems important to his boyfriend, so there’s really no other option but to say yes—unbeknownst to him, this is Silver’s way of slowly introducing him to his family.  Once again, he is utterly shocked by the level of skill demonstrated by an unlikely candidate.  Later, he’ll ask Silver if everyone in Diasomnia is some sort of closet gaming addict, but in the meantime, he finds himself actually bonding with Lilia, much to Silver’s delight.  As they fall into an easy banter, Idia can’t help but marvel at the strange air of familiarity about his fellow classmate...
I think that Silver’s interactions with Ortho would also be something interesting to explore.  They aren’t exactly close friends or anything like that, but he treats Idia’s younger brother with the same kindness and respect as he does anyone else, resulting in a shared fondness between the two.  Even before Idia introduces him to Ortho as his boyfriend, Silver has become his favorite of Idia’s friends, thanks to how happy he makes his brother.  Sebek, on the other hand, is less than thrilled to hear that his psuedo-older-brother is involved with such a strange and weak human.  Still, Idia’s appearance around Diasomnia has become more common as of late and off Silver’s subtle glares, he shifts the topic from one of chastisement to one of praise for Malleus’ actions that day.  Needless to say, most of their time in Silver’s dorm is spent in his room as well.
Once Idia becomes more comfortable around the Diasomnia crew, I think that it’s highly likely that he becomes their resident IT department.  Seeing as Briar Valley is a region with barely any modern advancements, it’s up to him to educate Silver (and, by extension, his family) on not just otaku culture but also technology in general.  Though it’s a slow and painful process to teach Malleus the wonders of Google and get Sebek to stop shouting whenever he’s on speakerphone, it’s somehow all worth it when he sees Silver smile.
—Alright, it’s AU time now.  I’ve been thinking about a post graduation AU recently, in which Idia has inherited his family’s business and essentially hasn’t seen the light of day for six years... this time not by choice.  When he’s finally permitted a short break from the daunting workload, his first course of action is to visit the boy who’s been on his mind ever since graduation.  However, the world as he knows it has changed drastically, and Silver is no longer the kind underclassman he once loved.  Instead, his cold exterior has seemingly permeated his very being after half a decade of facing the reality of what it means to officially serve as a human in Malleus’ court.  As Idia regrettably finds, who they used to be and the connection they used to share has been broken beyond repair, but when a sudden spike in the number of Overblots across Briar Valley comes to the pair’s attention, they’re thrust into a sinister mystery with betrayal at every turn...
Another AU idea that just won’t leave my mind is a Greek mythology one.  Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for coming up with it, but it’s just too genius not to share—I’d highly encourage finding the work I’m talking about under the Idia/Silver tag on AO3 (unfortunately, they haven’t actually written their part yet, but the other pairings are really interesting to read as well).  Anyway, in the fic, the author reimagines Hades and Persephone as our two favorite boys, which I think suits them to a T.  And with Lilia as Demeter... the canon character dynamics are preserved shockingly well, with some (prospective) drama to spice things up.  Some time in the future, I’d love to try drawing all of them in Greek garbs...!
Okay, and because Idia’s such a massive otaku, I have to include this one—an isekai AU with Idia as the typical reincarnated office worker who finds himself in the world of one of his favorite games.  As an NPC fated to die in the very beginning, he latches onto the game’s protagonist, Silver, a knight blessed with the special holy power necessary to defeat the Dark Lord who’s overtaken his homeland.  The final boss is also, coincidentally, Silver’s father.  At first, Idia’s only hanging around him to avoid the most major death flags, after which he’ll dip before the ultimate battle, but fate has other plans for him.  In a massively cliche plot twist, he needs to stick around the hero to survive.  Thus begins the adventures of Sir Silver and his reluctant sidekick, Idia the Fearful...
Sorry it took me a little longer to reply than usual, but I hope this satisfied your Idia x Silver craving!  Though this isn’t actually my favorite Silver ship, it’s still definitely up there on my list and quite frankly has the most canon content to backing it.  Let’s pray to the Great Seven for more of then in Episode/Book 7 and future events...!
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Here’s a little bonus story for the android au, sometime later down the line with Aziraphale and Crowley, before a relationship starts and before Crowley finds out Ezra is really named Aziraphale, and Crowley finally decides on a name.
For this, Crowley is called AJ, short for the serial number AJ0440. However, the android had discovered gender and is playing with them, so for this one-shot, the pronouns are they/them.
As for eating, I was considering that Crowley can’t eat, why make an eating android, but then I realized that biofuel can be used through processing foodstuff (there’s this delightfully soul crushing mini anime that DT was in about robots where they made biofuel from fruits and stuff). So, Crowley can eat just a tiny bit as backup fuel, like an extra charge. But not a full-on meal, no, there are robots that can do that to process the food into biofuel for other robots. 
On with the fic!
--
“I don’t often go to the little shops,” Ezra started as he walked down the streets with AJ’s arm hooked around his own, “but they sometimes have just the thing I need!”
“Did you really need me to come along with you for this?” AJ asked, not that they minded, they loved going anywhere with their angelic cyborg, but a little trip to a shop didn’t seem like much.
Still, being anywhere with Ezra was a blessing for them.
“Well... I figured we could go to the park afterwards, I know you like to feed the ducks.”
That they did, AJ had grown very fascinated with the little waterfowls. Such simple activities were not really required of their original protocol and purpose, but since gaining free will, they greatly enjoyed the little joys in life.
“Ah, here we go.” Ezra stepped into a small store with AJ. “Have a look about, I just need to grab a few things. Pickout something if you see anything, alright?”
He left them to stand by the door and AJ looked around, toying with the sleeves of their hoodie, before noticing colorful items. A quick scan indicated that the items were makeup and nail polish. AJ had tried makeup before, and rather liked it, 
They looked at their fingers though, at the translucent tips, where impressions to make it look like they had fingernails were. They feared that painting over the fake nails might be bad, what if it didn’t come off? But... they wanted to try out nail polish, they had seen humans with it, it always looked so nice.
They picked up a few bottles, red and black, and a lovely, sparkly silver. They wanted them. Maybe they could paint Ezra’s nails! Oh, but he likes blue and gold. Maybe they could get those instead?
Then AJ spotted something next to the polish, a little packet of things. A smile came to their lips and they snatched those up, along with a blue bottle and a gold, bringing them over to Ezra. “I found things.”
“Oh?” Ezra blinked and looked at the bundle in their arms. “Oh, those are lovely, did you want to-?”
“Yes!” 
“Alright, I can get those for you.” Ezra said with a smile that always made AJ wonder if it made their pupils change shape.
--
“I’m thinking about getting some ice cream.” Ezra spoke as they sat on their favorite bench, the android next to him currently opening up a package of fake fingernails to put on the ends of their fingers. “Did you want anything?”
“Huh?” AJ looked at them, blinking behind their shades. “Ice cream?”
“Yes, uh... oh, that’s a rather dumb question, do you even eat?” 
“I... I can. It’s not something I really need to do, but if I consume a small amount of food, typically in a soft, more-liquid like form, I can process it into extra fuel for my internal batteries if I am not close to a charging station.”
“Would you like something?”
“I could eat something small, yeah.”
Ezra nodded, excusing himself to approach a cart nearby. AJ returned to looking at the nails and started to process of trying to put them on each finger correctly. Once secured, they dug through the bag, careful to not knock the nails off, for the silver nail polish. 
Ezra returned before they could start to apply, holding a strawberry lolly and a vanilla with a flake, holding the latter out to AJ. “I hope this is okay.” 
“This is fine, thanks.” They took the frozen treat, sticking out their tongue to give it a lick.
“Can you taste? I know you said you can smell things, but how is your sense of taste?” Ezra asked as he sat down, licking his own treat. 
AJ blinked. “Ah, well, it’s... I can taste, I have a very strong sense of taste, actually. I was programmed to be able to taste my owner’s food for them before they ate, in case of poison.”
“Goodness!”
“I was created to serve people of power and money, they tend to have enemies.” AJ shrugged.
“Gosh, glad I don’t really have enemies.”
“What about those men in dark suits that sometimes try to come into the shop?”
Ezra smiled, but there was ice to it. “Oh? Those gentlemen? They know better than to bother me, once I have a little talk with them.”
AJ wondered if they should question Ezra more on that, but their angel was a brave, strong, dangerous man when he wanted to be, so they shouldn’t worry. “You live a weird life, angel.”
“I suppose I do, but I like my life.” Ezra smiled. “And you?”
“I love it. Look at me! I’m in the park, attempting to eat ice cream, wearing fake nails, which I’m totally painting silver and black cause that’d look so cool! And look, there’s the ducks! And that swan that tried to eat your pocket watch! It’s a beautiful day, and I’m not stuck being yelled at my some asshole who treats me like garbage. Instead, I’m out here with my best friend, having a nice day.” AJ said, grinning, leaning against their human. 
An arm slipped around their shoulders, keeping them close. “Same here, my dear. And when we get back, you can paint my nails, if you’d like?”
“Really? You want me to?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice those other colors you picked, I know you want to.”
AJ’s grin grew and they wiggled closer, before biting into their ice cream, much to Ezra’s dismay. 
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raggaraddy · 3 years
Note
hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!
Bitten to death
A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜
Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.
Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.
Vampire! Hoseok
It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.
Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.
Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.
Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.
You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.
The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.
Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.
The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.
"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.
"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.
Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.
He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.
"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.
The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.
"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."
He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.
"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."
"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.
"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.
"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.
Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.
"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.
Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.
"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.
"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.
Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.
Why did you say that?
In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?
With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.
"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.
Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.
Your eyes go wide in shock.
"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.
This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!
"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"
"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."
"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."
"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"
"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.
The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"
"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."
"And does he love you?"
"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.
"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.
"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.
"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."
"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.
That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.
"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."
You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.
"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."
"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."
"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.
"We will see."
The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.
You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.
100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.
The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.
Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.
Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.
"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you. 
The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.
"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"
"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."
"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."
Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.
"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.
Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.
Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.
The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.
You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.
There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.
Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.
"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.
Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.
"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.
"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."
"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."
On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.
"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"
With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.
You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.
With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.
"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.
"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"
"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.
Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.
Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.
"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.
"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.
Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.
"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.
Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.
"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.
"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.
"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.
Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.
"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."
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230 notes · View notes
plush-rabbit · 3 years
Text
Secret Admirer
Request: Do you think Shigaraki would play the part of ‘secret admirer’ with his crush for a while before confessing? Like just leaving little gifts in their room from time to time, with small notes saying it’s from their secret admirer?
I like to imagine he enjoys seeing how giddy they get
A/N: I had a fic where he met a new recruit and was like oh?? What's this feeling?? Sickness?? But it was just him having a crush and thinking they were cute. And i really enjoyed that one, never got around to a part two tho
-
Being locked in a room and forced to comply with the principles of his mentor led to Tomura being unsure of what to do with his feelings that aren’t destruction and chaos. He’s never had a crush, was never allowed to grow as a child and instead was kept with a foggy understanding of the feelings that bubble inside of him when he sees you. He isn’t sure what to do with these new types of feelings that he has for you. At first, he thought it was just his friendship with you but then he felt his face start to get hot, he felt himself become excited to see you and now he doesn’t know where he sits when he thinks of you. He isn’t sure why it’s you. Maybe it’s the way that you’re nice to him and always make sure to tell him good morning and save him a piece of toast. Maybe it’s how you listen to him ramble about everything and how when he looks at you, he doesn’t ever want to stop.
His feelings are too much and he doesn’t know who to go to with these feelings. Kurogiri isn’t around, Dabi isn’t exactly the romantic type, Twice and Toga would both run to you the minute they knew- accidently and purposefully- and Spinner is similar to him in the lack of understanding on what to do with these types of emotions. He ends up going to Mister Compress, nervous and feeling too much like a child and it’s awful, but he’s the only logical option. He’s given all sorts of advice that leaves him irritated in the way that a child does when they’re teased for having a crush, but he eventually settles on the secret admirer path. He doesn’t know how you feel about him and he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship that he has with you, so he rather be secretive about it.
Luckily, he knows you, so it isn’t hard to figure out what your interests are in order to get you nice gifts- or at least gifts that you would like. He’ll stockpile all the gifts and even bribe Mister Compress to marble some away so it isn’t too suspicious on why he has loads of items that are obviously not for him. It’s annoying and he has to find small containers to label in order to make sure that he knows what he’s going to give you. It’s annoying and tedious work that makes his hand ache and in turn writing sloppy, but it’s for you and he wants to make sure that you enjoy your gifts.
The gifts are well thought out- things that you mentioned liking, items that you’ve favorited on a shopping site for some reason, and even just things he knows you’d like by context clues- however, the wrapping is where he struggles at. Even with the gloves, it’s hard to break out of habit, and the tape sticks together and the paper crinkles too much and he’s just frustrated. He’s already asked Mister Compress for too much help and he doesn’t want to bother him any more than he already does, but the thought of just having all that done by a professional grows more and more tempting with every crooked line that he makes. You’re lucky that he has strong emotions for you or else he wouldn’t be putting this much effort into making the gifts look nice.
It’s an increase in the complexity of the gifts. First it’s flowers that he can see are in a vase when he walks by your room, then it’s chocolates that you hide in order to not share with others, and then it’s stuffed animals that he sees laid out in your bed. He’s glad that you like the gifts and he can’t help but feel a bit prideful at how you start to smile more and more everyday, how you wear the things he gets you no matter how small the accessory is. He wants to approach you and comment on your items but he’s unsure how. He doesn’t want to make it obvious that it’s him and while he can keep a secret, he also just wants you to know that it is him. But the fear of rejection from you is stronger than the curiosity that dwells in him.
Tired of the longing stares and the scratching that has started to make the pining boy’s neck raw, it’s Mister Compress who comments on a necklace that you wear. He asks where you got it from, leaning close to you and unsuccessfully trying to pull the pining boy towards the conversation. You, on the other hand, can only shrug, twirling the silver chain between your fingers as you say that it was a gift from someone special. It’s easy to tell that you really enjoyed this gift from how you smile, the corners of your lips stretched and unbreaking.
Perhaps he’s a bit jealous with how you pull Mister Compress to a closed corridor with shifting eyes to make sure that no one else is around to listen, but he can’t blame you. Maybe if he were to have commented on your necklace, then it would have been you pulling him close, your lips over the shell of his ear as you tell him- he doesn’t know, but he knows that you’d tell him something and then maybe he could confess to you. But even then, it’s not certain that you would return his feelings. He knows that rejection would hurt. He’s supposed to be some powerful leader in order to destroy hero society and everything that comes along with it, but he still has feelings, he still mulls over the decisions he’s made when he’s around you, he still tries to stare discreetly at you and sit behind you in order to just hear you talk to him. But he can’t have that, not with rejection so clear in sight.
Whatever Mister Compress said to you, it has you talking more and more to him. You’ve always been friendly towards him, but now, it feels so much more. He wonders- No, he knows that Mister Compress led you to his direction and he doesn’t know whether to be angry at the thought that his secret was possibly spilled or if he’s glad that he doesn’t have to do a reveal. No matter, you’re talking to him. You’re pulling him to your room and showing him all the things you received, and when he reaches out to touch a cheap gift he had bought you- a squishy animal- you stop him. You smile at him and pull the animal close to you, commenting how someone gave it to you and that you’re weirdly territorial on gifts you've received. He nods and in his chest, his heart beats rapidly. When he’s about to leave, he notices that the flowers he’s got you are gone. He doesn’t even realize his mistake when he asks you what happened to the flowers. You only stare at him, shaking your head and telling him that they dried out and that the petals are inside a jar.
A part of him wants to confess to you. He wants to tell you his feelings just to get the rejection over, but even so, a part of him still holds out hope that you like him the same way that he does. Even then, he still likes giving you gifts, he likes to see you wear i and pull Mister Compress aside and talk about your new gift, or when you go to him and tell him how you got a new gift- a soft, strawberry scented sloth that you can’t stop holding when he’s around you. He wants to tell you, but he’s unsure how.
Tomura confesses to you the way that it all started. He stands at your door, waiting for you to open and when you do, he bites on his tongue as he pushes the gift towards you. It’s different when he enters your room now, it feels much more private, like he’s invading a space that he shouldn’t as if he isn’t there, but watching through a window. He doesn't know what to say except that he is your secret admirer. He likes you and he didn’t know what to do but to give you gifts to smile and when you would think of the secret admirer you would smile and in turn, you’d be smiling at him, because of him. You make him feel all sorts of new things- freedom, happiness, content, the inevitable feeling of something warm that bubbles inside of him, and it terrifies him enough. He keeps his eyes on the jar full of dried petals from his flowers and he can understand that if you don’t feel the same, he won’t blame you, but he just needed to tell you. When he feels your hand above his, he tenses, his head turning to you and in a blink of an eye, your lips are pressed against his cheek, smooshing the little fat there is and he nods, a smile forming and he’s left with your arms around his shoulders.
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